CLIMBING FRANCE'S HIGHEST MOUTAIN IN A 1928 PEUGEOT

by Gilbert Bureau

Having kept a regular correspondence with Mr. Lucien Loreille, the "Pope" of antique automobiles in France, we were invited to take part in their annual Rallye du Val d'Isere, not knowing that this weekend would be worth three Hershey outings!

Shoelace pathways which would make the Laurentians look like the Trans-Canada highway, snow-covered roads under 70 degree sun…Some 50 antique automobiles ranging from a cute 1915 Amilcar to a huge 1937 Packard limousine… and a good number of motorcycles from the early '20s with "gendarmes" and all… Quite a sight indeed!

We also had the honor and privilege (should we say luck...) to join the equipage of a mint canary yellow Lancia tourer de luxe double cowl torpedo (quite a mouthful...). This mechanical oddity reminded me of a certain yellow submarine with its dual periscope side lamps. The Lancia was our official car but we must admit that we also had a lot of fun driving a cute little 1928 Peugeot that we had "borrowed" from a friend in Lyon.

And away we went! First, we paraded through the tiny burg of Val d'Isere where, as they say, the houses are made of ginger-bread. The mayor and his "court" welcomed us and the official departure was announced by a very old man driving a 1900 De Dion Vis-a-Vis voiturette. Needless to say, this man and his valiant horseless carriage never even attempted to drive up Val d'Isere. We were also told that he was the first habitant to drive a car from Val d'Isere to Lyon in 1915. Quite a trip, considering the obstacles in those days.

Then up the hills!

Everything went fine until an unknown vehicle forced our speedometer to a very slow 25 kilometers. The strange contraption was nothing less than a Citroen boatail of a 1925 vintage - and the car was moving up backwards! He was actually trying to make it up the hill in reverse! (The Ford "T" had the same "gravity" problem, but we never saw one of Henry's "T"s going backwards in a very official antique car rallye.) We overtook the Citroen and its equipage which seemed completely undisturbed by this "manière de faire" - in fact they were having more fun than five mice in a box of French cheese. That Citroen actually looked like a cheese box on wheels. Wait- what's that noise?… It was one of Hitler's official limousines. The driver dressed like one of the Fuehrer's devils overtook us in a jiffy. The monstrous roar reminded us of Adolf's incoherent speeches. That big Mercedes seemed like an apparition out of a vintage war movie. It was huge and extremely powerful. We were to learn that this particular Huns' chariot developed serious engine trouble on its way back to the Lyon Museum; the supercharger had actually blown itself to pieces when the driver tried to push it passed 125 kilometers- sic transit gloria!

The weather was perfect and the wind was competing with the chug-chug of our Peugeot. Then, to our complete dismay, we discovered that the brakes on our cute little car were due for a complete relining. Luckily, we could rely on the emergency brake which acted on the transmission only. We then gradually diminished our speed so as to compensate for the lack of security. It was down to a point when my girlfriend actually suggested taking off the floorboard so as to be able to use our feet to stop the car.

Following us not too far behind was a rather cute Simca Violet, a cyclecar that looked like a grasshopper in disguise. Its pilot, dressed up in Lindbergh attire, was just about to honk his way passed us when we saw another car right behind the Simca, a nice Renault with a hood à la Franklin. The big Renault easily passed both cars and accelerated like a rocket. We heard the hissing sound of its big six- cylinder engine, evident proof to its noble title in the luxury field.

We finally reached the top of Val d'Isere where the ever present Compagnie Ricard had installed a convenient table. The majority of the drivers were already installed in front of an improvised bar, sipping away their fourth aperitif of the day. The cars were parked in a circle in front of the chalet. Some brave equipages had brought their ski equipment. They would not be deceived - it was 70 degrees F and the snow was perfect!

We ended up with a couple from Paris who had made the whole trip in their newly restored 1937 Delage. They had driven 600 miles without any mishap and they really intended to go back home in their Delage. "Une voiture merveilleuse, ma chère! (A marvelous car, my dear!)" she casually mentioned between a green Chartreuse et le caviar. They had just inherited this classic from a rich uncle - just like in the movies! The great Gatsby dead and reborn- again - in a Delage.

To our astonishment we learned that all the cars, including the "Citroen in Reverse", had made it up the long hills. We had finished in l7th place; not too bad considering the mechanical performances of our Peugeot. The first prize went to a statuesque Hotchkiss from the mid-thirties. Its driver and copilot had driven this car in the Monte Carlo rallye and then to Rome a few years ago. This Hotchkiss convertible reminded me of an Auburn sans supercharger.

A couple of bottles of beaujolais later, we decided to go back to the village, down the mountain! A 1928 Peugeot with no brakes was definitely not a very good way of getting from the summit of the mountain to the village way down below. Luckily for us, a friend of ours accepted to take it down on its modern float.

We then had the choice of transportation between a big 1925 Hudson Tourer and a Lilliputian Zebre dating from the first World War. My heart fell for the Hudson, not because of my American feelings but for the simple reason that the Hudson seemed better equipped for that long ride down the mountain than the Zebran contraption.

The big Hudson Super-Six had been acquired in Nice by a young couple from Paris who actually lived in Lyon (!). The Hudson lived up to its good reputation since they had driven it all across France in the past three years. It was a long seven-passenger limousine with jump seats, flower vases, and silk curtains. The car was completely original except for the tires. The ribbon odometer showed exactly 21,000 miles. A rare automobile in near mint condition. We sat in the back enjoying the view through its aquarium-like windows.

We whizzed down the mountain passing everything in sight. Hispanos, Delauney-Belleville, and even a 1935 Cadillac with British license plates - we overtook them all! The Hudson was king of the winding road. We could actually "smell" the two-wheel brakes, doing their best to hold the car and its two tons of metal in the right direction. My girlfriend was FRIGHTENED. . . I tried to appear blasé but I was quite "nervous." The driver, obviously unaware of the danger, kept on honking his way down the mountain while his girlfriend chattered about only God knows what!

Well, believe it or not, we all made it to the village in one piece!

We sat at a nearby cafe, with the daredevil and his girlfriend. (How come everybody here seems to be with a "girlfriend" or a "boyfriend?" Don't the French ever marry? Or is this the new social laissez-faire? We also noticed a surprising number of "nieces" driving along with gray-haired gentlemen of an older vintage.) Contemplating the numerous equipages of vintage cars arriving in the village, we could not help but wonder at the quality and variety of this old car gathering.

We spent the rest of the week-end enjoying ourselves during the numerous activities, banquets, and outings. Our faithful Peugeot was restored to its original braking condition by a sympathetic local mechanic "whose grandfather had owned one just like ours."

During our trip back to Lyon we stopped at a restaurant and parked our humble Peugeot close to a blue Bugatti. It turned out that this particular "Bug" belonged to a charming couple from England who had ferried it across the channel and driven it to Val d'Isere. They very casually informed us that they owned four Bugattis, a couple of Edwardian Rolls-Royces, and a 1903 Renault with very weak brakes. Well, you guessed it - this year we will be driving this 1903 Renault in the London - Brighton Run.

But this is another story.

©VEA