Hanging in the Big Dog Garage
Jay Leno’s collection of 130 cars and more than 100 motorcycles leaves columnist car- struck
Even though my wife and I are in a sleek Cadillac CTS Sport Wagon, it feels a bit like a police stakeout parked on a side street in Southern California’s urban sprawl.
There is nervousness in the pit of my stomach as I fiddle through the XM satellite radio stations, oblivious to the music filling the swank leatherappointed interior.
“Another 14 minutes and we can go in,” I tell my better half, who has been checking the chin on every driver of every car that goes by.
My apprehension is understandable since we are holed up around the corner from Jay Leno’s Big Dog Garage, a sprawling, gated compound where the iconic comedian/ late- night talk show host stores, rebuilds and finesses his collection of 130 cars and more than 100 motorcycles.
I consider my fleet of 10 cars and trucks back in their dark, rented compound in Halifax and wonder what Jay would think of my 1991 Pontiac Firefly.
Let’s be honest. When you get a chance to meet the likes of Jay Leno, you want to be on time. Early even. So my wife and I had manoeuvred the CTS from our Sunset Strip hotel through the Hollywood Hills with plenty of time to spare.
Our appointment at the compound is with “Bob.” Although Jay’s public relations manager and I have been playing phone tag for a couple of days, I still don’t have a clear- cut answer if we will actually meet Leno. But at least “Bob” is confirmed.
Bob is at the gate and informs us we can take only one picture during the visit, and one of us has to be in it. So much for the big photo spread I’d been counting on.
The friendly, elderly Californian has been working with Leno’s car collection for 21 years and knows all six buildings inside out. Car facts, horsepower numbers and automotive lore roll off his tongue.
It’s somewhat overwhelming walking through the buildings that house one of the most eclectic and extensive collections of automotive history in the world. And this is no museum, since all the cars in the collection are licensed, insured and ready to go. From Bugattis to Stanley Steamers and Detroit Muscle, they patiently wait for their master to come in and pick them as a daily driver.
“Is Jay around this morning, Bob?” I ask.
“He comes in every day. But wait. There’s an empty stall over there in the Bentley lineup. I guess he came and got a Bentley so he has probably gone to the studio.”
As we stroll down the lines of cars I try to decide which one I would want. What about VIN # 1 ZR1 Corvette, Viper # 6 or one of the 1960s muscle cars? I eye a green 426 Hemi Coronet. It’s one of the few automatics though, so forget that one.
“Jay likes manual transmission cars, but his automotive thirst really is all encompassing.” Bob is on a roll now. “Over there is a mid- 60s Chrysler Turbine car. It idles at 26,000 rpms.”
We check out “The Tank,” a giant hot rod powered by an M47 tank engine. One thousand horsepower was not enough so Jay had it souped up to 1,500 ponies. Make that Clydesdales.
Some of the cars look absolutely normal, like the 1966 tan Oldsmobile Toronado. But under the hood lurks a 1,100 horsepower twin- turbo small block Chevy engine. And of course the front- wheel drive car has been retrofitted with rear- wheel drive.
Bob takes us to another building, a 17,000 sq.- ft facility where crack technicians are working on a slew of projects. A 1966 Ford Fairline with too many carburetors to count catches my eye. A lineup of Stanley Steamers, a Duesenberg that has been there for a couple of years, a Bugatti stripped to the skeleton and a 1983 Porsche 911 Jay purchased the night before set my head spinning again.
I think about the fuss I went through getting a set of oversized 13- inch tires for my Firefly last year and wonder how Jay can keep it all straight. But I guess the fortune side of fame and fortune can buy talent and, judging by the hustle of activity in Jay’s garage, there doesn’t seem to be any shortage of that.
As we tour the Bugatti- Duesenberg hanger I keep an eye out for the boss, but across the driveway the Bentley spot is still empty. So much for quizzing Jay about his favourites, where his collection is going or if he still gets bouts of car fever.
When I’m about to give up on going for a spin in a Duesenberg, my cellphone rings. It’s Helga, Jay Leno’s media relations manager, inviting my wife and I to be in the audience for the The Tonight Show later in the day.
“When the show finishes linger in the audience,” advises Bob. “If they invite you to the Green Room say yes. Even if you don’t meet Jay, the food in there is really good.”