Escape from Pebble Beach
Pebble Beach goats: In no rush to get out of the way. But they seemed to appreciate the Flying Spur Series 51.
Amidst all the hullaballoo of Pebble Beach, all the purple Rolls-Royce Phantoms and guys who bring parrots to parties (seriously), sometimes you need to escape for a couple hours. Sometimes, at an event devoted to celebrating the car, you need to get in a car and actually go somewhere. So I snagged a Bentley Continental Flying Spur Series 51 and set off to find lunch in Big Sur, about 30 miles distant.
You may think that “Flying Spur” sounds like a karate move used by cowboys. But I’m here to tell you that it’s also a car that goats find extremely interesting. And I know that because I got held up by a herd of goats in Carmel. Barely a mile from the Lodge, the epicenter of highbrow snootiness, my path was blocked by a big mess o’goats wandering across the road and eating tasty underbrush or whatever it is goats eat. Whose are they? Are they always hanging out near the Lodge? Are they members at the club? I don’t know. What I do know is that they took their time crossing in front of the Bentley, perhaps admiring their goat visages in the vast chrominess of the grille. Meanwhile, a guy behind me in a Honda Accord kept impatiently inching up behind me. I threw my hands in the air—the international gesture for “Goats! What are you gonna do?”
Here's something you don't see every day. Or ever.
The day before, I’d seen the Huayra parked at the Pagani stand at the Quail, constantly surrounded by a mob. And now here it was, looming in my rearview mirror with its insectoid rearview mirrors probing the slipstream and its various active aero flaps opening and closing like gills. When traffic-clogged Route 1 opened up, I did the only proper thing and pulled over for a moment to let the Pagani slide past. The second he was even with my door, I floored the mighty Bentley. But my twin turbos and 12 cylinders were no match for his twin turbos and 12 cylinders, and he was instantly at the far end of the straightaway ahead of us. Traffic what it is, I soon caught up and had plenty of time to contemplate the Huayra’s active rear aero flaps, which seemed to deploy whenever he hit the brakes. About halfway to Big Sur, the Pagani pulled over and very gingerly pulled a u-turn on the dirt shoulder. It was quite a Pebble Beach moment—a 700-plus horsepower super-duper exotic negotiating a dirt shoulder during a Route One joyride. Celebrities: They’re just like us!