I Can't Show You This Incredible (and Secret) Car Collection, But I Can Tell You about It

From the September 2017 issue

It’s possible I belong to a car club. Well, maybe. The club has no name besides “Thursday Nights in Lolo,” and here is its constitution: “Article 1, Section 1: Drink beer and talk about cars on Thursday nights.” There is no Article 2. I believe there’s one amendment, though: “Bring beer, not Old Milwaukee.”

We meet in the garage of Gary Meuchel, who restores muscle cars, heavy on the Mustangs. His garage is appealing because, first, it stinks of fresh paint and stale Castrol. Second, it always looks as if it might have been a Jegs outlet that’s recently been bombed.

Our man Gary is dogged, so when he learned via rumors that a nearby wealthy collector owned nearly 100 cars, he begged for a viewing on behalf of the club and all that we hold dear in fine pale ales. Alas, in the matter of sidestepping minor celebrity, the owner was perhaps just a tad less available than a confessional before Easter.

Gary worked on this project for two years. Two years, I say. Then, suddenly, one of the collection’s full-time mechanics called to say, “Tomorrow, 9:00 a.m., don’t be late,” and hung up. I live two hours from the collection and also promised to pick up Gary, which meant—for the first time since moving to Montana—I saw what Big Sky Country looks like at six in the morning.