Things vs. Experiences or: Thoughts on Road & Track’s Hudson Quattrocento Rally

Two weekends ago, a bunch of us from Hearst Autos, along with a phalanx of Road & Track readers driving their own cars and hailing from parts as diverse as Puerto Rico, Indiana, and Seattle, took part in a road rally we dubbed the Hudson Quattrocento. It took us 400 miles through the picturesque Hudson River Valley (hence the name), during peak fall colors. We drove our cars over some of the best winding roads in the Northeast, terrain sculpted by ancient receding glaciers and deposited with still lakes.

In terms of cars, we had in convoy everything from a 1968 Lamborghini Islero to a brand-new McLaren 600LT, the latter machine part of R&T’s most recent Performance Car of the Year test. This event was a way for us to bring the magazine to life, to do the things we write about but in real time, with real enthusiasts along for the ride. It was great. You should have been there. 

But it wasn’t great just because of the cars. The cars brought us all together, of course, and got us to the starting point. The camaraderie, however, quickly became the figurative gas in our tanks. The folk we traveled with were from varied backgrounds, of varied ages, and with varied automotive passions. But they were all game, all there to have a shared experience. At a certain point, we went well past cars and into our kids, businesses, favorite vacation spots, food, art, books, you name it.

Don’t get me wrong. Cars are fabulous things. To paraphrase Jaguar’s Sir William Lyons, they’re the closest man has come to creating an animal. The car’s beauty can transfix, its performance can stun. The car has opened vistas and freedoms previously inaccessible. And that is the key point—the car is meaningless without a place to go. The car’s highest purpose is as a conduit for experience, not just static sculpture. Too often, great cars get parked in collections, never to venture outside, so as to maintain or grow their value. Keep those miles off. Keep the paint perfect.

But the truth is that the best way to maintain a car is to drive it. Preferably with someone you care about in the passenger seat. And even better—with someone you care about and in a rollicking group of hard-driving, like-minded enthusiasts. The Hudson Quattrocento reminded us that automotive experiences are what car designers and engineers dream about when they’re doing their best work. Experiences trump things every time.