Jan 29, 2002
By Peter Vack
The late Bill Serri driving 412030 at Pocono, captured beautifully by Joe Corbacio.
|
A recipe for a relatively modern car; one which might be offered by any number of manufacturers today:
- Dual overhead cam 8-cylinder, aluminum head and block, 225 bhp.
- Supercharged
- All independent suspension
- 4 speed gearbox integral with differential at rear
- 19 inch wheels
- Aluminum sports body
When, sixty-four years, 6 wars, and 12 U.S. Presidents ago, Alfa Romeo created the ultimate 8C2900, the above specifications were obviously pretty wild. Only the Grand Prix cars of the era could offer more in terms of high tech, speed and acceleration. Perhaps the only comparison worth mentioning today is the McLaren F1.
And it's a pretty wild car today, the ultimate example of a road car blessed with the marvels of the mechanical age which it epitomized. The twenties and thirties were the age of metal and machine, and nothing is more machine-like than the Alfa 8C2900B. Only the glass on the huge round gauges, the thin leather seats and the bakelite steering wheel counter the expanse of metal. In the cockpit, the surrounds are aluminum, steel, brass, and more aluminum. Looking over the outrageously hood, the hand wrought louvers, echo down the sides of the car. Starting instantly, the engine noises are glorious, vibrating, thrashing insanely and constantly. There is no soundproofing to muffle the screaming metallic sounds, nor should there be. The noise reaches a fervent pitch as the engine revs toward the next gear. We are going fast, very fast, much faster than any old car should be able to go, and the wind carries the mechanical outbursts past the ears. It is an experience without any useful comparison.
It is doubtful that any postwar road car is as violently mechanical as the Alfa 2900. And need we stress road car, for even after WWII, many 2900Bs, Tourings included, were used as daily transportation. Brakes? Not mentioned in the above specs. Not worth mentioning at all, making the ride of a lifetime even more exciting.
Thankfully, the late Bill Serri was never afraid to drive his famous 412030 Alfa 2900B anywhere, at any time. Just got in the car and went. Just like Carlo Pintacuda did with the same exact car in the 1938 Mille Miglia. Just like Phil Hill did in that same car after the war.
Our thanks to Bill, who we will miss. We doubt if the next owner of 412030 will be so willing to offer the car for a drive. If so, our number is----
412030 is well documented in a number of publications. But save looking, and do yourself a favor. Buy a copy of Simon Moore's The Immortal 2.9, now of course out of print. Oh yes, it's gonna cost you.
