Episode 1 - The Garage
Discovering the business you’re ACTUALLY in.
(It’s about 12-minute read)
Cale
Cale grew up in a small town on the East Coast. As a young boy and well into his teens, he’d help his dad work on what he’d describe as ‘Dad’s Coupe’, a ’34 Ford. His dad worked at the local foundry as a foreman for years, starting there right after he returned home from the service, bought their house straight away and they’ve lived on Oak Avenue ever since. The garage smelled of cedar and machine oil, dingy, lit by fluorescent hanging from the wood rafters. The tool bench was a mess, piles of old wrenches, pliers and oil-stained boxes of random parts, and few empty bottles of Faygo Rock ‘n Rye soda pop.
From those early days, Cale showed a natural curiosity about all things mechanical. When he was five or six, his father would set him up on that bench with a screwdriver and an old part, a distributor or some darn thing like that, and within minutes Cale would have it apart and would be showering his father with questions about what this or that did. It was love at first sight for young Cale.
Cale attended Bowsher High School just over on Maple Street. He wasn’t the best student but loved shop and baseball. He was good with his hands and took to machines and figuring out how they worked. “That boy was always tinkering on something. I swear he was doing that more than he was sleeping.” his Dad was known to say. “His mother would pull him out of the garage by his ear sometimes. But I tell ya’, by 14, he could rebuild anything!’ he’d attest.
Cale worked on his buddies’ cars well into the night and every weekend. Eventually even the neighbors brought over their cars. He made some good money doing that. When he was 15, he bought a 1970 Chevy Nova. He torn that thing apart redoing everything that could be and eventually dropped small block V8 in it and strapped on a Muncie 4-speed. If you don’t know it, that car was fast!
He and friends and their girls would drag race down M22 every Friday night after the local high school football game. That was until the sheriff got wind and started chasing them off. That cat and mouse that went on for years. Eventually on advice from his father, and the sheriff, Cale took his car the local short track, and quickly his reputation as a driver and a mechanic spread through the pits.
Soon he had more work than he knew what to do with helping folks their own race cars and hotrods. Eventually a regional race team got wind of his talents and offered him a job on their crew. They traveled all over the East Coast and Atlantic racing late model Chevys and Fords. After two seasons, Cale was made the Crew Chief. That’s the person in charge of making sure the car was ready for race day and that his mechanics were top shelf. The team did well above average and surprised a few placing in the top three in a couple races. He loved it. Cale honed his skills to a razor-sharp edge.
Eventually Indy came calling, Cale’s name was known in these circles, and ovals truth be told. A professional racing team in one the highest levels in the industry and he was only 22. He started back in the crew but after three years he was named Crew Chief again. He ran that team with precision, his crew knew everything there was to know about tuning a car and the newest tools of the trade, and they had successes all around the country. He was at it for nearly 20 years, top of the game but the constant travel and intense work finally caught up with him, and he decided to drop down a gear or two.
Soon after he left Indy, he moved to town near one of the racetracks that they had competed at. The town had grown since he’d first come. Now a city with money, expectations and ambitions, and with a growing car culture full of vintage collectors, hobbyists, weekend wrench-it-yourselfers, and a clubhouse of gentleman racers. Those are retired surgeons, tech guru, and handsome, tanned men whose source of income isn’t spoken of in polite company. They own very expensive cars and have them serviced and brought to them by professional support teams. They never get their hands greasy but are happy writing checks and feeling well-kept.
Cale rented a garage near the track. Julian Racing, named for his father who passed away earlier that year was open for business. He brought two of his best mechanics from the Indy team with him and hired a young man whose enthusiasm and raw gumption reminded him of his own early days. The shop immediately grew and was servicing some of the finest vintage and high-end road cars, and had a stable of clients with Porsches, AMG’s and Ferraris race cars. Hell, they even asked by a local collector to restore his 1986 Benetton Formula 1 car.
His team were expert mechanics, technicians and engineers, they had the latest tools and technology and knew how to get the most out of a car. After a couple years, they moved to a bigger place, bought a couple shiny over-the-road semi-rigs to deliver cars upon request, and filled the place with the best tech in the business. Needless to say, they were flying down the road.
Sara
A bright, effervescent, and athletic 15-year-old. A Sophomore at St. Mary’s Academy she grew up playing volleyball and soccer, but she has a passion for cars, motoring and the lifestyle that weaves in and around it. Sara is always active some of it influenced by her parents but mostly of her own interests, friends, sports, and dance class filled her days through middle school years. And much of the same as high school began, just more friends, more messaging and more dreams.
Her mom, Barbara, is one of the leading Dermatologists in the city and Dad, Ben, is a partner in an energy trading company. They meet at university in Boston and moved from the cold, wet winters just after Sara was born. Like many they were drawn to this youthful and progressive town and have been here ever since. Barb’s practice keeps her busy but is always active and working to stay fit. She and Sara start each weekend with a yoga and meditation session in the family room or out on the patio, weather permitting. It’s their time and a bonding moment that both looked forward to. Ben rows and runs, it’s his way of decompressing from the week. He travels once a quarter to the Middle East for client meetings and talks, but otherwise, he can work from home.
Their house was well appointed, full of energy, and happy. They entertain a few times a month, Ben loves to cook, and Barb makes a killer salad. They have friends over for a glass of wine, a cook-out or when inspired Ben will make a big spread for a few close couples. Nutrition, eating well and eating together is part of the equation of the house, so much so Sara, like most teens, loves sneaking out to the local fast-food joint with the girlfriends. The house is a revolving door of Sara’s friends running through with music and laughter pumping from her bedroom door.
Cars were always part of Ben’s life and when he and Barb’s careers were finally established, they bought their first ‘fun’ car, a 1978 Porsche 911SC. It was a bit rough around the edges but Ben and Barb, and Baby Sara would take that car on weekend getaways, and on those rare nights when there was a sitter the two would jump in and head into town. The sound, the smells and the nostalgia of it were the fuel Ben loved. Barb loved the simplicity, the style and rawness of it. It was the romance of it all.
They’ve had the good fortune to own a couple vintage Porsches, a big old temperamental Jag, and a 1961 Alfa Romero that reminds Barb of her days traveling around Italy as an undergrad. Like many parts of their family life, their relationship with these classic machines was a place of memories and special moments.
Sara especially loves riding in her mom’s convertible, they’d put on big sunglasses and wrap silk scarves around the necks like Anita Ekberg in La Dolce Vita and would head down the road, even a ride to the grocery store was special. She’d get early to watch Formula 1 races with her dad on Sundays. She was drawn to the heyday of F1, the racing of 1960’s and 1970’s, the cars and the fashion that came with it, probably because of her dad, but her real interest were the women who raced. The Janets, Shirleys, Michèles and Jills and all those that paved the way for young women to win at the sport. She followed her favorites in the Formula Academy on Instagram and TikTok. It’s the racing series for women and their pathway to Formula 1. She’d report to her parents who won and how her favorites did after every race.
They always made time for the three of them to get away. They started attending vintage car gatherings and races, and last year the family went to the Goodwood Revival hosted every September in West Sussex, UK.
Goodwood is a magical place, an unparalleled experience. A celebration of motorsports, fashion, music and the arts of the 1940’s through the ‘60’s. It is theater, pure and simple, and a sensory spectacle of story, costume and motoring. For three days the mystique, history and romance for those days, those machines, and the heroes of the day are something of a dream. The entire crowd wears period clothing, and Sara and her parents were no different. Barb wore a chiffon dress and jacket with her hair up in the style of the time and Ben was smartly dressed in three-piece tweed and flat cap. Sara went full ’60s Mod with a flowered dress, oversized sunglasses, and high white boots. She played the part as they walked through the paddock and grounds, sipped tea and drank G&Ts (tea for Sara), danced to the sounds of Count Basie, Louis Prima and Danny and The Juniors, and watched lots of racing. As many did, they’d strike a pose for playful selfies and Sara posted endless photos and videos of her favorite personalities, outfits and cars. The sights and sounds, the extraordinary hospitality, and a collection of the finest period cars in the world was something that they’d never experienced. It was living, breathing theater and they were in the cast. They left taken by the experience. And Sara, well she loved everything about it, and more than anything Sara knew she wanted to race.
Start the Engine
Upon returning home, they met with Cale through an acquaintance and talked about getting Sara started in the sport. Ben made arrangements with another of Cale’s customers for her to get time in his car and found her a coach. Months of training, track days and driver education sessions, that’s time in the car and time on track, she began learning her craft. She took to it and got quicker and quicker. She loved pulling her helmet on and climbing in, having the five-point harness pulled tight, and adjusting the settings on the steering wheel. She’d push the button and fire up the car. A thumbs up and she’d tear up the pit lane with her coach alongside. Like a horse in the starting gate, the engine wailed, and car shook as they headed up the pavement.
They spent every other weekend at the track. It was a family affair. Barb and Ben would sit in folding chairs and watch her and sometimes listen on a headset. The garage was a simple place, white concrete walls and filled with rolling cabinets of tools, racks of tires, a big cooler of bottled water. and a couple plastic tables with lukewarm breakfast tacos and a basket of protein bars. It smelt of rubber, burning brake pads and racing fuel. It was all about the cars. Cale would be talking to his techs making sure they knew exactly what to do, and he’d visit with his owners. He had an inviting presence, tall with a full head of silver-gray hair and big mustache that bracketed his warm smile. He was kind and had a simple charm about him and could talk about nearly anything. But there was no doubt about it, he was a car guy through and through.
On popular track days, fans young and old peered in for a look. Fathers kneeled with their arms around the kids pointing as wheel guns screeched and mechanics wrenched. The dreams and romance of racing and being a racer filled the air. Few if ever get the chance. It’s an expensive, terribly, bewilderingly expensive hobby and profession. Sara knew how lucky she was.
In the garage the team tweaked the suspension and balance, and laptops showed graphs and data on the car and Sara’s performance. They guided her on how to take this turn and that one. They started by cutting seconds then they were focused on shaving tenths and hundredths off her times. As is said, Cale and his team could dial in a car. Racing was simple to him.
“She’s really taking great strides. She’s suited for this.” Cale would say walking over to Barb and Ben. They’d smile, nod their heads, and Ben would stand give him returning a reassuring look walk over and stick his head in the cockpit of the car to check on his daughter. Either a huge smile or thoughtful grimace would greet him, either way he could feel her joy. She was into it like nothing before.
Along the paddock were privateers, shops and teams, doing the exact same thing, serving the exact same type of customers. And all with the same tools, same experiences, same skills. The only difference was the color of their shirts. Sara and her folks did notice was there were a more kids her age racing, and they loved it for Sara as she was able to build a group of friends with the same interests and passion.
After a season, Sara was consistently improving and more and more competitive. One hot summer afternoon she pulled in after two laps and the cooling system gave way, letting loose a flood of coolant on the tarmac. Climbing out of the car, Sara took off her helmet and unzipped her suit. Disappointed, her day was over. The mechanics pushed the car back into the garage and Sara and parents went for a walk down the paddock as they did so many times before. Bummed out Sara walked with her head down, Ben wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek. “You’ll be back in no time.” He assured her. “Let’s get something to eat, those tacos aren’t doing it.”
Walking past the line of chromed trucks and tire racks, they noticed a new group, a new team. Chelsea Motorsports Club. They had heard rumblings about them but were always focused on the work at hand to pay too much attention. There was a different feel about it compared to the neighboring teams, and certainly different to the no-frills Julian Racing.
A Lifestyle
There was an energy that poured out of the overhead doors.
They stuck their heads in and were soon greeted by a woman mid-20’s with big welcoming smile. Mia shook their hands as she offered them something to drink.
The garage was full of people, it felt more like a bustling hotel lobby or lounge than a garage. Large racing photos and automotive art hung, and a projection of vintage racing footage framed a seating area where a small of group of people chatted. A restored ‘70’s Ford GT500 sat center on display and long table of fruits, juices and trays of foods was being serviced. House music pumped from monitors and Sara noticed kids younger than her sitting in a racing simulator, a SIM, with a coach over their shoulder guiding them. Young, fit and fashionably attired staff were busy with guests and making sure everything was in order as a photographer moved along the crowd. Across the way and along the pit were the same type of cars, and racks of laptops and monitors and focused mechanics and techs all working in unison.
They had walked into some intersection of a lounge, gallery, spa, and space-age laboratory.
“What do you do here?” Barb asked.
“I’m a concierge.” said Mia, “I make sure that every member and guest has what they need.”
“Let me show you around.” she continued.
“What’s all this?” Ben asked.
“We try to give our members a full experience, we believe in a holistic approach to it all. It’s not just about the car but it’s about you, your family and your physical, mental and emotional care. Don’t get me wrong, our members learn and compete at the highest level. But, this is a lifestyle for us.” Mia explained.
“You said members?” Barb said.
“Yes, all these people are members, or folks thinking of joining. You don’t just rent time from us, you part of a community. We all support your development at whatever level you want to achieve.”
“How’s that?” Barb asked. It wasn’t a hard sell by any means, but they could all feel the ownership and pride Mia took in what she and the Club were doing.
Mia went on as they walked, “We all one big crew working together on your personalized journey. We have different teams, the technicians and engineers of course, we call them the artisans of speed. Isn’t that fun?!”
“Carol over there, pointing towards the lounge, is our nutritionist and next to her is Michael, he’s the head of our fitness and strength team. I don’t see her, but Sandra is our performance coach, she helps our athletes with their mindset, relaxation and their resilience.”
“We all need that.” Barb agreed.
“Everyone works together. There’s a camaraderie here, everyone working towards the same thing. Racing is performing at your best and highly personal but we never forget how fun it is.”
A young man carrying a camera walked up, “Mind if I take a couple shots?”
“This is Alex, we keep him busy.” Mia introduced him as they all turned and smiled.
“OK one, two, three. Thanks!” Alex directed.
“He shoots everything we do and helps put together our members personal stories. Whether it’s to post or a wonderful book to look back at years from now. They’re beautiful.”
“Follow me, we can go across and see our physio truck, it’s like a moving spa of sorts.” They walked across to one of the trucks. Mia continued, “Michael’s team ensures you’re in peak shape and after a long session your recovery is tailored to your needs.”
“We host special events and bring in legends to share their experiences and for you to learn from. Chelsea always brings in some special chef for those evenings. They do some crazy delicious things.”
Walking back into the garage Sara saw her friend Nina, smiled and waved, and went over to give her a hug. “Are you joining?” Nina asked.
“How do we become members?” Barb asked looking over to Sara chatting with Nina.
“There’s an application and then an interview with members group. It’s not scary but we want to make sure you are the right fit. Every member is part of Chelsea and helps shape its future. I’d be happy to get you an invitation package.”
“Make yourself at home…I’ll talk to you soon.”
“We’re in the making memories business.” Mia said as she shook their hands again and said goodbye.
Walking back to pack up, Sara wrapped her arms around her parents and leaned into them with excitement.
A Launch and an Engine Failure
After a few weeks, Cale and team had the car ready and were back at the track. Sara kept practicing and improving. But she kept talking about what Nina was doing and all the ‘cool things’ going on at the Chelsea Club. Nina was trying her best to convince Sara to get her folks to join. She didn’t have to try very hard, they had already felt the same kind of energy and excitement, attention to detail, and the sense of community that always resonated with them and they had grown to expect.
Over the next couple months, things started to feel a bit different in the garage. One or two less cars, less people hanging around, and the regular staff was harder to rely on. The Julian garage was misfiring.
Soon after, the family did apply to the Chelsea Motorsports Club and were accepting warmly. They received an exquisite custom welcome box that included their membership cards, Sara’s biometric bracelet and booklet that included their personalize schedule and nutrition plan for the next three months. The box arrived by courier, it beautifully crafted of rosewood, a deep saddle red Alcantara, and carbon fiber. Sara kept it and displayed on her bedroom bookshelf right next to her first helmet.
The next year Sara continued to accel and was more focused and happier than she’d ever been, both in and out of a race car. Her trophies filled her shelves alongside the welcome box, now filled with medals and photos. She felt like she belonged, and they couldn’t imagine being anywhere else. They were making memories, just like they did in that old Alfa.
Eventually, Julian Racing pulled its garage door closed for the last time. There were many factors that contributed to the business failing, no doubt. But by not taking the time to lift their heads from under the hood and recognize that they were actually in the business of providing personalized experiences both on and off the track was the piece that broke and sent them crashing into the barrier.
It’s Not Magic
It’s thoughtfulness, intentionality, and an unrelenting focus on your customer, and their needs, wants, and aspirations.
Julian Racing, even with the finest staff, tools and technology, never transcended beyond a service provider. Yes, they could wrench and tune your car, but they couldn’t touch your heart. They never even thought of it. They never gave their customers something to care about. They were so focused on the job right in front of them, that they lost focus of what was most important, the experience and feelings their customers’ desired.
The Chelsea Motorsports Club doesn’t provide a service they curate memories. They do it across their entire landscape – their people, members, services and brand. It’s about orchestrating bespoke, personalized experiences, creating deep emotional connections, nurturing the human body, mind and spirit, and through storytelling, exclusivity, and celebrating the craft and art of the machine.
They built the stage for their members to live their dreams – the ultimate experience.
This attitude and shared expectations elevated CMC beyond the mechanical into the ultimate luxury lifestyle partner. They transcended their root business and created a completely new category.
There’s no doubt the work, the product, the service must be of the highest quality, that’s table stakes. Even in the heart-pumping exhilaration of racing, it wasn’t enough to hold onto customers. A high-performance race team is no different than any other provider with a good product or service and all the right technologies, but if you don’t deliver the emotional resonance your customers were thirsty for you will be trailing far behind.
Even the smallest enterprise can build meaningful customer experiences. What was once the intangibles are now the essential building blocks of creating a brand that customers love.
The well-appointed guest room, a rack of the finest apparel, exam rooms full of board-certified physicians, or solid app and good engineering, or a beautifully plated entrée can’t stand alone without providing the stage for your customers to make memories and profound emotional connections.
This is the currency of brand success today and far down the straightaway.
At Rogue-ES, we are the conductors of the experiences your customers are demanding.