The so-called Million Dollar Highway is actually a small, 12-mile stretch of US 550 (a road worthy of many road trips in its own right). On any standard map, the drive appears to be little more than a thoroughfare connecting the two tiny towns of Ouray and Silverton, Colorado. Save for a few hairpin turns, it’s deceptively straight and straightforward. In reality, it’s among the most radical paved roads in the United States.

The origins of the road are clouded in a combination of mystery and revisionist history. The general path was first cut by Otto Mears — a Russian immigrant and U.S. mail carrier who frequently traveled the San Juan Mountains. He quickly found the path to be quite necessary for others seeking passage across Colorado’s most wild and rugged mountain range. By 1882, he’d consequently opened the path as a rather lucrative toll road.

When the road was first paved in the 1930s, it was purely out of function and necessity. Few folks were interested in driving it for fun, leading many to believe the origin of the road’s name stems from one traveler noting, “I wouldn’t go that way if you paid me a million dollars.” Considering the lack of “amenities” like seatbelts in some early 20th century vehicles, it’s hard to blame him. Beginning south from Ouray (with the sheer gorge to the right), the road passes through Uncompahgre Gorge before climbing to the summit of Red Mountain Pass. It’s a harrowing and downright dangerous drive marked with narrow lanes (often shared by RVs), steep cliffs, sheer dropoffs, hairpin turns, and zero guardrails.

Given the Million Dollar Highway’s breathtaking yet perilous nature, accidents can and do happen. It’s crucial to be prepared, especially when driving in such unpredictable conditions. If you find yourself in an unfortunate situation, it’s important to know about their legal services offered by experienced professionals through an accident hotline. These legal experts can provide you with crucial guidance and support following an accident, ensuring that you are protected and informed about your rights. Whether it’s handling the aftermath of a collision or offering advice on next steps, their services are designed to alleviate the stress and uncertainty that often follows such incidents.

It’s also one of the most beautiful in the country. Every bend reveals yet another panoramic view of some of the most idyllic mountain scenery in the state with names like Electra Lake, Twilight Peak, and Lookout Point. Towering rock walls, rolling fields of evergreen, beautiful alpine lakes, abandoned gold and silver mines, and the ruins of settlements once full of wide-eyed miners who arrived in the valley to strike it rich nearly 100 years ago. Thankfully, there are viewpoints along the way, although drivers are often forced to park with a little too much ass in the road.

Surprisingly — or not, because, hey this is Colorado — the Million Dollar Highway is open year-round. While it does close in snow, more often than not, the local government encourages drivers to just throw on some chains and be on their way.

The post A Most Beautiful and Dangerous Road: Colorado’s ‘Million Dollar Highway’ appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Making sure your sweet whip is ready for the open road can be divided into two parts: Checking your car and packing supplies.

Checking Your Car

Your car won’t take care of you if you don’t take of it. Make sure your jalopy has plenty of oil, coolant, and other fluids. Check your tire pressures, not forgetting your spare tire if you have one. If not, filling your tires with Fix-a-Flat ooze can mean the difference between being stranded and limping into town. Lastly It’s not the worst idea to pick up a spare quart of oil or bottle of coolant to take with you just in case.

Packing Supplies

Speaking of just in case, you’ll also want to make sure you have tools you’ll need should something go wrong. Here, your best bet is a travel tool kit sold at any AutoZone, augmented with any special tools your car needs. Tire pressure gauges are cheap and a godsend when you need one, as are spare fuses. If an accident should occur, you’ll be thankful you have an emergency tool with a seatbelt cutter and window breaker. And of course, duct tape is never a bad idea.

This summer you can successfully cross any state or nation if you show your car a little love before sending it into battle. Any AutoZone around can have you prepped up with all these items, and we’ve even got a $5 off coupon for you. You depend on your vehicle to get you to where you are going, and it depends on you to take good care of it.

This post is brought to you by AutoZone; the opinions are all mine.

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One need look back no farther than the advent and popularization of the automobile itself to predict what is coming for it now. That’s right, we’ve been through this before. Back in your daddy’s day, horses were all that – part transport, part pet. They had terrible downsides like obnoxious waste products, annoying feeding necessities, and the proclivity to run amok and kill people. Then along came Benz and Ford and in no time at all horses were pushed out of city centers, then whole towns (sounding familiar yet?), and before too long horses were seen purely as an extravagance and a hobby only. No more horse ownership for the masses. As it currently stands, yes anyone can still own a horse – but it has to be kept and used in very specific places and it is generally seen as a hobby for the well off.

Looking at what this history lesson means for us, I expect to live to eventually see the day when autonomous vehicles take over big cities, then small, then all streets and cars as we know them are really only run at race tracks by wealthy enthusiasts. Driving on city streets will eventually become illegal. Our children will look back and laugh that we were allowed to, even wanted to, pilot 3,000lb death machines that drank precious oil and spat out killer gases. This has always been a mad activity, but I love it nonetheless. Autonomous vehicles are going to eat our everyday hobby, and there’s little we can do about it. Enjoy your nighttime cruises through sleeping cities, or ocean cliff blasts on a Saturday afternoon, because these days are officially numbered. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go drive.

The post The End of Driving appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

If you don’t know who Alex Roy is, stop reading now. Save yourself the time and effort of learning of another human’s existence. There is nothing here so important that you need to know about it unless you already do. If you are one of us handfull of truly unnervingly-crazy people to know that in 2006 Alex Roy set the transcontinental driving record from NYC to LA with a time of 31 hours and 4 minutes, then you already know that since that mountaintop he has fallen into much less grandiose and obscure “records.”

Ever since his big record was beaten a few years ago, he has been “slaying” records on the Gumball tour, appearing on European television as a “ultimate playboy”, and hosting poor quality youtube videos.  Most recently he announced he set the record for a 3-wheeled trip across the United States. That’s right, he has now set a new “record” for taking a Morgan 3 Wheeler through the US in less time than anyone. But any who exactly? Some sad bastard in the 1930s? And he insisted on setting this record wearing old-timey clothing to complete the 3 Wheeler look. You know who does something like that? Not someone genuinely seeking to set an impressive record, but a rich trust fund kid (true) who is seeking the maximum amount of attention.

Clearly Mr Roy has officially reached the Guiness level of obscure records. If he’s not going to defend his cross country performance, he shouldn’t be setting all these junior-level records. What we are seeing is the equivalent to a World Series MVP  no longer being able to cut it, and then touting his success in the Chilean Miners’ league pennant as if the two accomplishments were somehow equal. They are not Alex.

Listen Mr Roy – no one doubts that you did something great. Or that you are a “car guy.” You cracked our 4 minute mile. You are a legend to the 35 of us hoonatics who pay attention to such things as cross country record drives. Your status was not in question, current holder of the record be damned. But now your status is in question. For all of us, and for you, simmer down. And simmer down now. None of us loonies needs another “record” from you. Again.

The post Alex Roy is Used Up appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Our rides tend to be rare and complicated to maintain than the modern world of Jiffy Lubes and engine error codes is used to. We have strange things called carburetors and drum brakes. We have to change our oil seemingly every other day. Our cars cannot go for years without lifting the hood. For all these reasons, and the absurdly high worth of the rarer iron, has led many to lock away their vehicles. These owners choose to enshroud them under dust-proof covers, and only actually drive their machines a few miles a year.

These garage queens are indeed beautiful and pristine. Many look like they leapt straight off a poster, and more than a few are in even better mechanical condition than when they originally left the factory. They are nearly perfect pieces of art. Nearly, but not quite. You see, vehicles are not art. Cars and motorcycles have a purpose; they were engineered to do something. This violates art’s central tenant that it can have no use other than simply being art. No matter how beautifully or lovingly a vehicle has been designed and crafted it is not art.

It is, however, meant to be driven. From a Volkswagen Bug to a Bugatti Type 57SC Atlantic, regardless of their current value or mystique all vehicles were built to be enjoyed and *gasp* used on the open road. This is their raison d’être. It is just wrong to lock them away in dark garages and deny both them and yourself the pleasure of barreling down the blacktop. Teams of engineers devoted their careers to working on and perfecting your ride. You owe it to these men and women to truly experience their hard work and use the cars in the real world.

My vintage car is a daily driver. She has spots of rust and the chrome is not so bright anymore. I often get a loud crunch when slotting into reverse and the carbs are currently dismantled on my kitchen table. It may not win any concourses, but it wins my heart every day. No, I’ve never done a frame-off restoration on her or caressed her sheet metal with a silk square, but I would venture to say that I know my car better than those that have. I’ve driven my car on the limit. It has disappointed me and overjoyed me. We have a relationship and memories that can never be matched by simply looking at it longingly every night over a glass of dry Syrah. My car and I are more connected than any garage queen and her owner ever could be.

If you only want a perfect example of your model, or simply want to protect your “investment,” I get it. If you don’t want to see people’s faces light up as you drive by, bringing a touch of beauty into their lives, so be it. If you want to lock you vehicle away from the world except for special occasions, fine. But me, I’m going to drive.

The post In Defense of the Daily Driver appeared first on FactoryTwoFour.

Day two on our LA adventure dawns and we’re itching to get on the road. We’re excited because the particular roads we’re not waiting to get on happen to be two of the most storied roads in the auto enthusiasts lexicon. Today we use the excellent CLA AMG to tame the epic Mulholland Highway. And to get there, we taking the irreplaceable Pacific Coast Highway. So what I’m saying is that it’s going to be a good day.

After a hearty home-cooked egg and bacon breakfast, to fortify our bodies and courage of course, we expectantly plopped ourselves down into our Merc’s firm sport seats. A touch of the starter button, a fiddle with the mirrors, and we’re off to meet our California road destiny. Or so we thought. We all know LA is known for its traffic. It’s freeways are some of the most congested in the nation, but that’s why we’re avoiding them and taking the famous PCH. But someone forgot to tell the locals, because the Coast Highway was just as slammed and slow as the much-cursed 405 freeway. Stop and go. For miles. Our 355 horses under the hood trapped behind an endless beige sea of Priuses and Range Rovers. The PCH is a great road that perfectly winds around some truly breathtaking ocean views. But anywhere within the Los Angeles County line, it’s just another congested road to crawl along. We were solely disappointed. That said, further North away from the city the traffic vanishes and the PCH can be one of the best coastal drives in these United States.

But up North we are not, so we are thankful when we finally spot the sign we’ve been aching for – Topanga Canyon. With a frustration-venting mash of the loud pedal, we catapult off the Coast Highway and onto Malibu’s infamous canyon roads. Mulholland has played host to automotive antics of everyone from James Dean and Steve McQueen, to racers like Richard Petty and Mario Andretti, to the everyday garage monkeys like you and me. It is first and foremost the people’s road. An equal opportunity joy-giver and fender-denter. And most importantly after the disappointment of the PCH, it lives up to its hype.

The CLA AMG is all-too happy to tackle this icon. It positively paws at the pavement below as it rockets from apex to apex. I’m giving the 4Matic all wheel drive – and bucket seats – a workout and they are proving very capable of holding up. This AMG is not a super car or purpose-built sports car; it’s a tarted up commuter sedan. It has limits. But I’ll be damned if I found them during our day in the high desert canyons.

Mulholland has a bit of everything. Long straights, gentle sweepers, and a treacherous length of impossibly narrow hairpins affectionately called The Snake by the locals. The Snake is where the posers stop short. It is a highly demanding and technical. It is also constantly populated with fully-armored motorcyclists pushing their Ducatis and Aprilias  insanely close to your fenders. The Snake is for real, and we threw the CLA AMG into it by the scruff of its neck. I’d love to tell you all about the tire smoke and sideways drama we got into. But I can’t. From perfectly executed hairpins to completely botched switchbacks, the AMG handled it all the same – it tightened up, made a terrific noise, and accelerated out with as much speed as I could coax out of it.

Mulholland’s famous twisties proved no match for our Merc, as we tired out well before our Teutonic chariot did. If you’re visiting Mulholland, its obligatory that you make a stop at The Rock Store. Believe it or not, we did not see a geode, crystal, or any other kind of rock for sale there. The Rock Store is the go-to stopping place for the bikers, cyclists, and drivers who claim The Snake every weekend. The food’s not brilliant and its always crowded, but everyone is friendly and there are always plenty of fun rides to check out.

After a full day attempting to get in as much trouble as possible on these narrow roads, we point the Merc West and ride out the remainder of Mulholland back to it’s exit on the PCH – a full 39 miles North from where we entered the canyons. We get to enjoy a few miles of un-trafficked PCH, then it’s back to the grind. You always know you’re near Los Angeles when you hit bumper-to-bumper traffic.

It has been a long and sweaty day, and the FactoryTwoFour crew marches on its stomach. Before getting back to our base at Venice Beach, we detour East to Santa Monica’s Sawtelle Blvd. For about 1.5 miles this strip of pavement is West LA’s Little Osaka. We have come here for some of the best ramen this side of Tokyo. Situated on the far edge of the street right where Sawtelle’s Japanese-ness peters out and returns to burger joints and Best Buys sits Daikoku Ramen. Smack dab in-between a Panda Express (for the unadventurous tourists) and a Marshall’s discount store, this tiny restaurant serves up hearty bowls of happiness. With an interior done up to perfectly mimic a Japanese side street, and a pork broth that is cooked and simmered over 24 hours, Daikoku is legit. Salt is the killer of good ramen. You can spot an inferior product right away if it tastes salty. Next up are the noodles. They should still be al dente even after sitting in the piping hot broth during the coarse of your meal. If your noodles lose their slight bite or you’re tasting more salt than pork, you’re eating like a chump. Daikoku has no worries on either front.

After slurping our way to and past satisfaction, we are well and truly stuffed. We knock off the evening with an enourmous bowl of Hawaiian shaved ice down the block and head home to plan our last day in this town we’ve come to love, Los Angeles. Our final day is going to be a doozy too – with street art, taco stands, open-air markets, and a few hundred miles of criss-crossing this crazy cities neighborhoods. Can’t wait.

Read part three of our Los Angeles Adventure here!

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