For 15 years, I have been captivated by the 1985 Lancia Stradale 037.

Growing up, I was always the shy kid who felt out of place. I was clearly born in the wrong generation, and because of that I found it hard to communicate and make friends. But once I did make a friend, I would talk to them endlessly, giving my all into our friendship and building it into something long lasting. Although I do struggle to stick to one thing for a long time, but, when something truly captures my attention, I never forget it, even if it means becoming below average at everything else.

This is why the Lancia Stradale 037 means so much to me. It’s not just a car; it’s a symbol of resilience and dedication in a world that constantly changes and demands adaptation. The sleek, boxy design of the car first caught my eye when I started exploring older rally cars. Racing it in games sealed the deal. The whine of the gears and the rumble of the engine were music to my ears, and watching the car almost fly over dirt and gravel, then take off on asphalt, was exhilarating.

Delving into the history of the 037, I found even more details that made me relate to it. The 037 was the last of the rear-wheel-drive rally cars in Group B rally racing. While other manufacturers adapted to four-wheel drive, the 037 stayed true to its roots and won six consecutive World Rally Championships. It was an outlier, much like how I felt in my own life.

The engineering of the 037 is a masterpiece. It boasts a supercharged 2.0-liter inline-four engine, capable of producing up to 280 horsepower in its rally configuration. This engine, coupled with a close-ratio five-speed manual transmission, delivers blistering acceleration and top-tier performance on both tarmac and gravel. The suspension was meticulously tuned for rallying, offering a perfect balance between stiffness for precision and flexibility for handling the rough terrains of rally stages.

The 037’s dedication to its core design, despite the evolving landscape of rally racing, mirrors my journey. Like the car, I’ve had to find my place in a world that often feels out of sync with who I am. And just as the 037 stayed true to its design and triumphed, I held on to my passions and interests, hoping to find my own victories along the way. Ever since then, I’ve wanted to own the car, to drive in it, to feel the engine rumble, and to relate to its tradition.

To turn my new dream of owning a Lancia Stradale 037 into reality, I needed a stable and well-paying career. That’s why after high school I joined the Navy. The discipline and steady income provided me with the opportunity to save up for the car. Over the ten years I served, I dedicated myself to my duties, all while setting aside money for the 037.

My military career also allowed me to indulge in my passion for rally driving. Every year, I took lessons on the side to improve my skills, and once, I even had the chance to train in Italy, the birthplace of the 037. The experience deepened my appreciation for the sport and brought me closer to my dream, physically and emotionally.

At 29, after a decade of service, I had finally saved enough to buy the 037. I was one step closer to my dream of driving the 037. Believe it or not, I found it, an original Lancia Stradale 037 up for purchase, fully refurbished with original parts and the original red paint job. It was up for a staggering amount of money, but I’d been saving damn near every penny I could with the aim of buying a car like this, there was nothing else I’d be looking to spend it on. Plus, surprising enough, it was the rally model, which was even more rare since they were never sold to the public at launch, definitely worth money. So I took 2 weeks leave from the Navy and flew to Italy to pick it up and make my dream finally come true.

The night before I was set to collect it, my mind was racing with anticipation. I ran through my nightly routine in the hotel room, eager to have the night pass quickly, but instead found it almost impossible to sleep. With hours to go until I finally saw, and bought, the car of my dreams, it was all my mind could focus on, leaving me restless.

I didn’t even notice the moment I finally fell asleep, only that at one point I was staring at the wall of the dark hotel room, and then waking up to the sun streaming through the curtains. When I woke up, I was in a tired haze unable to contain the whirlwind of emotions stirring inside. My whole body seemed to vibrate as I got ready for the day.

Out of excitement, I rushed my way outside, only pausing to take in the cool and crisp air the little Sicilian town offered me. As I took a few deep breaths I could smell the faint scent of autumn leaves, the sun had just begun to rise, casting a soft, golden hue over the sleepy town. Today was the day, 15 years working toward a dream that seemed so far away, now was only a single drive away.

The taxi pulled up to the curb, and I climbed into the back seat, barely able to sit still. The driver, an older man with a friendly smile, glanced at me through the rearview mirror.

"Where to?" he asked with a heavy accent.

"Targa Florio," I replied, my voice trembling slightly with anticipation.

He nodded and pulled away from the curb, the city gradually waking up around us. I watched the familiar streets pass by, but my mind was already at the historic racing venue. The Targa Florio, a place steeped in automotive history, was the perfect setting for this momentous day.

The driver must have sensed my restlessness. "Excited about something?" he asked, his tone conversational.

"Yeah," I said, unable to hide my smile. "I'm picking up a car I've dreamed about for 15 years. A Lancia Stradale 037."

His eyebrows raised in recognition and he grinned, clearly impressed. "Ah, what a classic car! Congratulations!"

I was taken aback by his response, “You know about the 037?”

The driver chuckled a bit, then sighed with nostalgia. “I may not be a car person, but I’ve been around long enough to appreciate a classic when I hear about one. The 037 is a legend in its own right.”

I couldn’t help but grin from his response. “You're not wrong about that, but to me it is much more.”

As I closed my eyes, I imagined the car in its full glory. Shiny red bodywork, the gorgeous Italian sun reflecting and glinting as it speeds down winding Italian roads. The whistle of the supercharger screaming out under the rumble of the engine, a melody I knew all too well, recognisable from videos I’d watched as a teen. To imagine myself behind the wheel, changing gears, and zooming around corners with a sureness that came from how balanced and smooth the car drives, was all I’d been dreaming about since my plane touched down. And now, I was so close.

During our conversation, I found myself opening up to the taxi driver in a way I hadn't expected. His easy going demeanor and genuine interest put me at ease, and before I knew it, we were swapping stories about our own dreams and aspirations.

Closer to our destination, the roads became narrower and more winding, reminiscent of the rally tracks I had studied and trained on for years. Each turn brought me closer to the moment I had been waiting for, and the anticipation built with every mile.

The driver glanced back at me again. "You know, the Targa Florio is more than just a race; it's a piece of history. A lot of legends have driven those roads."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. "I know. That's why this feels so special. It's like stepping into a part of history.”

He smiled knowingly, seemingly understanding the significance of the moment for me. "Well, you're in for a treat. Targa Florio has a way of leaving its mark on you."

As we approached the entrance to Targa Florio, my heart raced with anticipation. The sprawling grounds came into view, alive with the sound of engines revving and the scent of gasoline hanging in the air. Despite the age of these grounds, they were vibrant and so full of life at every turn. It was a sensory overload, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through my veins.

The taxi pulled up to the curb, and I thanked the driver, smiling about the conversation we had on the way. I paid him, giving him extra as thanks.

The Driver looked at me one more time with a grin and said, “Good luck kid, Godi della vita mentre puoi, potresti non sapere mai quando la vita ti riserva una sorpresa.”

I looked at the man in confusion but before I could say anything he clarified for me, “It means, Enjoy life while you can, you may never know when life throws you a surprise.”

I chuckled a little while looking at the driver. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind. By the way, I never got your name?”

The driver's smile widened, his eyes holding a small glint. "It's Giorgio. Now, I sense something awaiting you."

With a nod and a smile, I bid the man farewell, feeling a sense of warmth and camaraderie from our brief exchange.

Walking away from the taxi, the atmosphere felt almost electric, a palpable energy that seemed to pulse through the air. I took a moment to soak it all in, the sight of cars lined up along the track was sending a thrill through me.

With each step I took towards the pick-up location, my anticipation grew. This was it—the moment I had been waiting for. The culmination of years of dreaming, planning, and saving. The Lancia Stradale 037 awaited me, a symbol of my passion and dedication. My hands were shaking as I walked through lines of incredible cars and passed drivers that milled about discussing things in Italian.

As I approached the designated area, I spotted it—a pristine red beauty, gleaming in the sunlight. My heart skipped a beat as I took in the iconic design, the sleek lines and flared wheel arches speaking of speed and power. For a moment, I was lost in admiration, mind blank, my excitement overwhelming any other thought.

Amidst my reverie, a figure stood nearby, patiently waiting with a set of keys in hand. It took a moment for his presence to register, but as I tore my gaze away from the car, I realized he was waiting for me.

Shooting him a sheepish grin, I hurried over, my eagerness evident in every step.

"Sorry, it’s Jack right? I got lost in the moment there," I apologized, extending my hand in greeting. "I'm Ben Leone."

Jack shook my hand warmly. "Yes and no worries, Ben. I understand completely, she’s an incredible car. I'm glad to see you're as excited as I am about this beauty."

We exchanged pleasantries as he handed me the keys, his enthusiasm matching mine. He gushed over the car, and his experiences with it, which only increased my eagerness to start making memories of my own.

With a final nod of encouragement, he stepped back with a gesture towards the car and a knowing smile, allowing me to fully immerse myself in the moment.

"Enjoy the car, Ben," he said with a jovial tone and a wave before turning to walk away.

I watched him go, a sense of gratitude filling me as I clutched the keys to my dream car. With a deep breath and a surge of excitement, I approached the Lancia Stradale 037 once more, running my fingertips along a shaped edge on the bonnet, taking care not to leave any dramatic fingerprints on the paint.

The gentle click of the door handle as I popped it open solidified the moment as reality, a reality long awaited. I hopped in, getting myself comfortable in the driver’s seat, ready to make this long awaited dream come true.

Author's Note

Big and thanks to my editor Larisa J @lazonline, big thanks to them and their great work. You can find them on Fiverr.

Also if anyone want to make a cover for this story please message me. Thank you for reading.