Magnum DGJ: Jalopnik Hits the (Pebble) Beach

Last Thursday, around 7:30am we were supposed to be on our way to Pebble Beach in a Ferrari 308 GTB with Jalopnik reader, Larry Manetti fan and all-around fantastic character Pen Pendleton, who was to play Rick to our Thomas Magnum. But we weren't. We were asleep, having snoozed right through our alarm. A few frantic phone calls and some mad Interwebs clicking later, we were in the Durango on the way to LAX to catch a flight to San Jose, where we were offered a ride to Monterey by a very nice woman from Texas named Susan, who refused payment for the lift. (Thanks, Susan!) We hooked up with Pen upon arrival, who actually had been passed by Haller's two-SUV caravan on PCH on the way up, for which he received a bit of grief.

After mutually drooling over the Lotus Formula Junior parked out in front of the Marriott at Calle Principal and Del Monte, we got on our shoe telephone to Haller, who was at dinner with Jim Glickenhaus and was about to give us Annabelle Frankl's number when we spotted a man in pink pants across the street, which could only mean one thing: Nicholas Frankl, sometime Team Polizei co-driver and twin brother of Annabelle. What followed was a mini-Bullrun reunion at Cibo, an Italian restaurant with a bustling bar, due to its proximity to the RM and Russo and Steele auction sites.

After much chatter and catching up, we marvelled at the sound of the straight-pipe exhaust kit on Nick's DB7 (what else would an Englishman in pink pants drive?) and wedged ourselves through the rollcage in Pen's thoroughly awesome 1976 308GTB, complete with snap-on plastic windows and headed to the house where we'd be spending the weekend. We swear, after four days of stepping over that rollcage we're 50 percent more limber than we were when we hopped on the plane. And in the 308, we found an unintentional workout that's almost as much fun as sex. We think we need to figure out a way to own one.

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