Starting the Engine

Picture the scene.

You're about to go for a drive, but suddenly you pause, and think,

“Wait a minute?…”

Without hesitation, you lean over the centre console, reaching into the passenger footwell, just under the dash. And feeling for the bonnet latch you pull, and release.

[Clunk]

You ease out and up, off the driver's seat. Walk around to the front. Gripping the edge of the bonnet, you raise it slightly, ease the latch back and the bonnet opens up, with that familiar creak of tired old springs.

You move over to the driver's side where the carbs sit, waiting, for action. One by one, you undo the clips securing the air filter housing. A quick lift and it's free.

“There we go” you say, almost proudly, to yourself.

Reaching up, you hook your finger over the bonnet latch. Pulling down, the tired ol' springs cry out, one last time, with feeling. The bonnet closes with a mechanic clunk. Walking around to the driver side rear door, you depress the chrome button handle. Pull the door open and stow the air filter housing, on the floor, behind the seat.

Closing the rear door, you step into the driver's seat, making sure she's out of gear, hand break's up and the keys are in the ignition.

Your right foot, hovers, just above the accelerator. Waiting. You know this ol' girl. She likes to wake up on her own terms. You turn the key.

"It was catching up with an old friend."

The starter motor turns while the twin Webers gulp in unrestricted air. As she coughs & splutters, you feather the throttle, ever so gently as she fires into life, with a raw, raspy growl.

As you blip the throttle, a sly grin makes its way across your chevy chase. You pause, but for a moment, gazing at the dials in front of you as you take in the soothing symphony of machine and sound… You lean out and reach to pull, and close the driver's door. Depress the clutch, ease her into 1st and do the clutch-throttle two step, to move off.

“Aaah… that's better!”

Its time for another adventure in the Super, as you gurgle down the road.

This, is when the actual journey started, without my knowledge. When that very connection to the Super was being created, nurtured, built and made stronger. Meter by meter. Kilometre by kilometre. Every tank of gas. Every turn of the screw driver while balancing the carbs. Every wash and polish. Every time I stretched her legs on long drives, or to merely take the scenic route home. It wasn't just a drive, it was catching up with an old friend.

The feedback from the road. The slight play in the '71 steering rack that you took into account, while hugging the bends. It all became like second nature. The flat spot in the accelerator and how after when getting her tuned by a family engineer friend, the 'ol girl just wanted to get going. You could literally feel it. That right there, is the very essence of what driving, is all about.

Its not about how fast you can go, or how much horsepower you have, or even how expensive your cabby was.

Its about the connection between you & the car. Its about why you STILL have it, and why you still obsess over it, after all these years and why, you still pine for one. Its about why you found fellow enthusiasts to share the passion with, ending up in looong, conversations.

"Chill, dialed allll the way up."

To some people, a car, is just a car. A mode of transport. But, to others, it means freedom.

A way, and sometimes a place to express themselves.

Sometimes the garage becomes a place of escape from the world. Some of us, and i know i am not the only one, will get out a deck chair, pop a brewskie or two, and just look, smile and admire the car.

I'll never forget something Norman Bent said to me one day. When he found out who my father was, he told me straight, and i quote: “Then you have Alfa in your blood.”

Sometimes, others can see who we are long, before we can.

I've always wanted to make t-shirts for as long as i can remember but unbeknownst to me at the time, GOOSE the Throttle never started with a logo, to become what its becoming today. It started when I turned that very key to spark the Super into life, that one fateful Sunday morning.

Going on drives just to hear the engine note and feel the way she hugged the bends. Even just taking a chilled drive, she made you feel something. Sunnies on. Leaning back with an arm across the opposite chair and the other, bent, on the door, elbow sticking out in the rushing wind. Cruising in the slow lane, at 67. Chill, dialed allll the way up.

And boy, can this little car still handle. The numerous times I've taken her through Piekeneirskloof Pass along the N7.

The gear shifts, throttle blips and just watching the road disappear underneath the bonnet as she devours the twists and turns, almost begging, for more. The quarter window vent open all the way, to prevent the wind from coming in thru your window.

The little twin weber carbed 8v Giulia, really has been a solid little car in the family. We got her for a song when i was still in college and she's still going strong.

Years later, while working at Betelgeuse Advertising in JHB, I found an advert for a company that was looking for a designer to help them with a few t-shirt designs. Right up my alley I thought, and, they were looking for a true petrol head. I'm not quoting Clarkson on this, you know what he said. This, was another integral part of the engine I was building without me even knowing about it. I basically ended up getting my education there even though, I'd been playing around with t-shirt design “concepts” for years.

Where ITCH began

I'd been forced to sell the 159 Q4 i had at the time while I was working for myself, which made way for a very, VERY special car. A car that ignited the collection. A '93 Alfa Romeo 164 Quadrifoglio Verde. What made it even more special was that it was one of only 13 imported into SA. Luckily, the example I purchased, had a little extra kick. She kept up with a 3.2 Gt in the wet.

Something bit me. I can't tell you what it is, but she ended up staying and we're still together.

Sorry to say, but nothing I've driven comes close to what that 164 does. She can fly, I can vouch for that.

Fast forward to late September, 2018…

I met up with my Father halfway between JHB and SBK to swop cars. I had just purchased a Met Blu 155 V6 and yes, black 5 star speedline rims included. What a sound. Now THAT was a drive back. WOW!!

I've previously owned two Alfa Romeo 155 Super's. The red Super I had, had a throaty exhaust, but this? This was another beast altogether and it only strengthened, what was being built behind the scenes and eventually pushed me to bring, GOOSE the Throttle out, into the open.

One fateful day while whiling away my time at work, I found myself with a few minutes to spare, which happened from time to time. Browsing Pinterest I found this graphic that read, “The GOOSE is loose”.

And it STRUCK me.

GOOSE… the Throttle.

This was the very moment all the years of nurturing the bond between myself and machine, came into fruition. GOOSE the Throttle was brought into existence, with the 1st designs being of an Alfa Romeo Step Nose and the 2nd, just the logo.

Road Tripp'n with my 2 favourite allies

After the acquisition of the 155, I went home over the Christmas period of 2018 and joined my Father in Kamieskroon for a little while. Going home for the holidays has always been an adventure. 1400km of pure driving joy!

We prepped for a wee road trip to Port Nolloth. My Father was in the '93 164 QV, and I was in the '96 155 V6.

We headed off from Kamieskroon to Springbok. You should've seen the rubber necking faces as we left the fuel station. Upon arriving in Springbok, we scooped up our Portuguese family friend we've known for years, and headed off.

Now the drive from Springbok to Port Nolloth, does, have it's twisty bits, and boy, did my Father and I enjoy every corner of cliffage that that road could throw at us. We really enjoyed ourselves that day. FULL send, as they say.

Two Busso's, driving in tow, to the same destination. In and around the curves and bends, window down, with the sweet symphonic sounds, of the Busso, V6.

Port Nolloth, never knew what hit it.