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Victory By Design: Ferrari DVD
Alain de Cadenet, a long-time Ferrari enthusiast and aficionado, drives some of the great sports racers and sports cars.
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Red Hot Ringtone: Air Rachet Single Burst
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Ferrari 60 Years: The Great Moments
by Leonardo Acerbi
by Leonardo Acerbi
This lavish book dedicates a whole chapter to each of Ferrari's 60 years in existence.
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The Sprint ST's proved to be great companions throughout the trip. (Photo: by Neale Bayly and Fish Eye Video) ยป More Photos
Rolling west from Sligachan through the Cuillin Hills, Sgurr nan Gillean rises up out of the mist to 3167 feet above sea level, the craggy top shrouded in thick, moody cloud. The air is dense with moisture, even though it isn't raining, and the saturated ground seems to meld into the low-lying cloud as it disappears toward the horizon. It is much cooler now, and tucking down a little lower behind the Sprint's small fairing it is amazing to think there has only been one change to this barren landscape since William Wallace roused his countrymen to fight the injustices of their English rulers back in the thirteenth century: Tarmacadam.
Invented by a canny Scot by the name of John Loudon McAdam of Muirkirk in the late 1780s, it revolutionized the way roads were built, and consisted of broken stones laid in tight symmetrical patterns covered with smaller stones. In time, this process changed to coarse, crushed stone, mixed with a mixture of tar and bitumen. Twisting and turning along the thin, undulating line of two-lane tarmac, through the dreich, mist-shrouded mountains ahead of us, his legacy lives on as the only sign of modern progress in this barren and harsh environment on the western edge of the Isle of Skye.
Back in the saddle of a motorcycle on Scottish roads for the first time in 25 years, my good friend Dennis Gage and his son Sam were joining me for the ride. Car buffs will know the affable,
Affectionately known to all as Mrs. Clean, she made sure we had indulged in lots of good Scottish grub before hitting the trail, prompting Dennis to deliver the line, "the trouble with Scottish food is, two weeks later you are hungry." Setting the tone for a fun few days, we picked up some back roads I knew from my youth through Bridge of Weir, and headed west to the River Clyde where we would catch a ferry north from Gourock. Starting in the Lead Hills of South Lanarkshire, the Clyde runs north past Glasgow and Clydebank before emptying out into the Firth of Clyde 106 miles later. As a port that faced the Americas, the Clyde was dredged during the Industrial revolution, and in the years that followed the shipyards in this area built more than 35,000 ships. Heavy damage from Nazi bombers during WWII, and cheap labor in Eastern Europe, meant that by the mid 80's only three shipyards were still open, sending the area into deep recession.
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