It all started with an e30 parked at a motel next a bar in Maggie Valley, North Carolina. The four of us wandered over in mild bemusement turned genuine astonishment at what such a nice looking e30 M3 was doing here:

And then we saw some old air cooled Porsche 911s that looked like barely disguised cup cars with number plates tacked on. And then we found this:

After an appropriate amount of automotive groveling, we got our first sliver of information: “they’re all part of the Overcrest Rally and they leave early in the morning tomorrow.”

It was around that time that the sound of something loud and angry pierced the Appalachian night as a blue Lancia Stratos flew by us. We decided right then and there, that whatever the hell was going on we needed to be a part of it.

With nothing but a name, we happened upon a blurry image of the route map on instagram:

With a bit of knowledge on Maggie Valley, we figured that the only place with enough room for around 100 cars would be the empty lots of the abandon ski resort and mountain fun park named “Ghost Town”. I’m sure the irony wasn’t lost on its owners either. After cross referencing those three pixels from that map with an image of the park, we figured we had a 90% chance of getting to the right place.

Now all that was left was to pick the right cars. Luckily for us, MSIMA’s resident pimp has most of his hoard up in Appalachia. So an original AMG bodied r107 450 SL and a “bought for $350” 420 SEL were selected for the task. In case you don’t speak the gibberish that is classic Mercedes-speak, I present to you our steads:

Sleeping late and getting up early, we arrived at ghost town before the sun had bothered to rise. And low and behold, we made it.

A gaggle of old 911s, a few old Mercedes and BMWs, and the Lancia awaited us. Hagerty had a stand set up giving out free coffee while the event organizers were hard at work organizing. And into this well oiled machine came us four mid-20 year old dipshits, parked right up at the front. We actually wound up moving the S class from parallel to inline parking once we realized that gravity could act as a replacement reverse gear.

And now BEHOLD what awaited us!

Nice ain’t it.

While the sun slowly began to rise above the Appalachian peaks that engulfed us, more and more cars began to trickle in. The most eclectic and astounding assortment of air cooled 911s, a Ferrari Mondial T and F355 in convoy, a gaggle of Audi Quattros, a purple Lotus Elise, a lime green 308 GTB, and an immaculate Citroen DS (amongst so… much… other… fucking… cool… shit).

As time progressed, more and more people stopped by the two unknown Mercs. And that’s when we started talking, friends started to get made, and suddenly the realization that we needed to go to more car events dawned on us all.

Eventually, the big wig in charge of the event payed a visit to the two white Mercs that made their way into his event. And that’s when the conversation was struck.

Like the mature and regal adults we claim to be, we did not get on our knees and beg to join their road rally for a short segment. No no, we would never stoop so low. Ok so maybe we did a little asking but I promise the groveling was minimal! You weren’t there! WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT US?!

Anyways, after being granted permission to slide in for a brief stint, we let slide that our friend and collector hoarder of Pimp-ly cars happened to own a genuine Koenig W126 500 SEC. Upon hearing that, our big man in charge revealed himself to be the senior editor for Petrolicious, so if you eventually see a video on a gray Koenig W126 500 SEC, just know it’s owner is a little shit (in the best was possible, love ya Reggie).

Seeing as we now had the green light to cruise and bruise, we waited for a group of cars to head out that would match the pace of the classic Benz armada. Spotting an RX7, BMW 1600, and 70’s 911 targa, we figured that was a decent enough spot to slot behind.

Joining the group, we immediately started down the familiar roads of Maggie Valley, NC, even passing our Pimp’s mountain getaway until we eventually made it to unknown territory.

And on these new roads, we got separated from the group by a pickup truck who insisted on driving in both lanes at 10 below the speed limit. Luckily it seems that “our group” missed an exit, so we caught back up to them retracing their steps. Freshly reunited, we began the hill climb to somewhere above the clouds, and that’s when the two things happened:

1. The 450 SL found its purpose in life
2. I think I had a religious experience with respect to “motoring”

Just like…. Look at this:

I don’t think it could’ve been more perfect. Unless maybe I was driving a modified S2 Alfa Spider, but then how could I truly enjoy the view?

Snaking back down, the Merc soaking up bumps along cracked Carolina pavement, we eventually get unceremoniously dumped onto a main road. But hey, there’s a gas station and these Mercs have a drinking problem.

We bid our current driving buddies a telepathic farewell and pull in to fill up. And hey would ya look at that, a gaggle of Porsches and the Stratos.

Of course we wandered around and looked ever so closely at every car here, what do you take us for? I’m a Porsche freak at heart! Sure I preach the gospel of Lotus, probably because I have yet to own one, but Porsche is almost always the correct answer.

Oh right the story, yes. You probably guessed by now but for the remainder of this tall tale, this was our group, our crew, our fellas. I swapped seats with a friend, now buckling into the squishy seats of a W126 S class with co-writer @justinpierce1006 at the helm of this boat.

Setting sail upon these great asphalt seas, we almost immediate fell behind as the Porsches (and one Statos) took off into the sunset. The SL was able to hang with, but us? In the boat? Let’s just say I smelled a bit of brakes. To his credit, Pierce was wheeling the hell outta that thing in the semi-vain attempt to keep up. I only hope that the pair of Audi Quattros that found themselves behind us got a good show.

A few miles passed and we one again wound up on a steep mountain pass, alone now since the actually competent metal was able to navigate these twist– oh hey the SL pulled over.

Turns out our MISMA Resident P-I-M-P (that’s a trademarked royal title btw) made a friend! A very friendly man in a 300e who we hung out with and shot the shit. Between taking pictures of oncoming traffic to bs’ing about old Mercs, us four idiots got invited to just keep on cruising with them towards lunch and probably beyond. Not the first, but sadly the last time that day, as we didn’t really want to overstay our welcome. It’s a $2000-ish road rally, and as we are but “humble college students and recent grads”, that’s a price we couldn’t quite afford yet. Continuing to tag along didn’t seem like the correct thing to do, as tempting as it is, and the organizers, as nice as they are, weren’t the most enthusiastic about letting a bunch of random 20-something’s loose into their planned event, and we don’t blame them one bit.

We also figured that we really shouldn’t piss everyone off since we did wanna join the next Overcrest Rally we can afford. Give it a year or three.

Thems the deets. Maybe the title was a little misleading, since there was very minimal “crashing” taking place. But god damn was that a fun time.

We had zero idea what cars were going to show up, what roads we would go down, or really just how far down the rabbit hole we would wind up to skim the surface and get a taste of a proper road rally. We all feared that someone would realize that two random Mercs piloted by a coupe of overgrown teenagers showed up and we’d be asked to “exit with dignity”. Instead, everyone we met were very friendly and just happy to shoot the shit and talk cars. Felt pretty welcoming, which is a breath of fresh air compared to the ego-driven dick measuring contest that underpins the south Florida car culture we all grew up with. And not that we need to tell you, but if the price of entree isn’t an issue and you wanna have a fun time, yeah it gets the coveted and totally not made up on the spot Official MSIMA Stamp of Consumer Approval!

The day will stick with us. And for me, it’s the kinda of experience that stays locked in my mind like that first HSR race at Daytona, that last blast in the old 993, managing our own road rallies in college, the entirety of Rallylegend San Marino, and the fever dream that happened in that old Miura SV. Locked away in my mental vault of personal all time automotive hits.

Can’t wait for the next one, just give me a year or four to save up next time.

– Monty and the rest of the MSIMA team. Thanks for letting us tag along!