One Weekend a Year
For one weekend each October, the Maryhill Loops Road stops being a museum piece and becomes a racing road again. On October 3 and 4, the 27th running of the Maryhill Loops Vintage Hillclimb brought classic race cars to the hills above the Columbia Gorge, and the road answered the way it has since 1955. The weather could not have been kinder: full sun and barely a breath of wind.
This is a road that was lost. Hillclimbs ran here until a winter storm washed it out in 1963. It was restored as a National Historic Site in 1998, and a year later the cars came back.
That history sits in the air all weekend. You feel it at sunrise, when the switchbacks are still empty and the grassy hills catch the first light. You feel it again when the first engine note rolls up the hillside and echoes off the loops.
Saturday: The Reunion
The organizers call it a motorsports reunion, and Saturday morning proves the point. Trailers roll in early, coffee comes out, and old friends find each other between the cars showing off new bolt on bits since the last race.
The field is small by design, and that shapes everything. Prewar machines park beside historic road racers and rally cars from ARA, SOVREN, SCCA, Conference and beyond. This year's theme, European Fords, gave the paddock its own thread to follow from one spot to the next.
Tech inspection runs in the pits, and it is as much conversation as checklist. Hoods go up, helmets come out, and owners walk each other through what changed over the winter. Nobody is in a hurry to be anywhere else.
By midday the Loops Road opens to the public as part of the Maryhill Museum's Concours de Maryhill weekend. Spectator cars wind up the switchbacks while drivers walk and drive the course at low speed, learning every corner. Golden hour closes the day with the cars parked against the hills and the road quiet again, waiting for Sunday morning.
Sunday: Against the Clock
Sunday starts early under a clear sky. Engines warm in the paddock at dawn, exhaust drifting in the still air, and the 8:30 drivers meeting draws everyone into one tight circle.
At 9:00am the first car leaves the line, and the hill comes alive. The road surface is in great shape, and drivers can commit to every corner. The sound is the thing people talk about afterward: an engine note climbing through the loops, bouncing off the hillside, fading, then returning one switchback higher. From the upper viewpoint you can watch a car stack its way up the road, corner over corner, with the Gorge spread out behind it.
Every run gets watched. Crews stand at the start with their drivers until the last possible second. Spectators cheer at the start. At the top, there is the same small ritual each time: helmet off, a grin, a few words with whoever is nearest before the regroup.
Lunch is the only pause. It feels less like a break than a halftime, with drivers comparing lines and morning runs over sandwiches before the afternoon runs begin.
Two Cars in scheel 101 Seats
Two cars in the field climbed in scheel 101 seats: a 1966 Ford Cortina, right at home in a year celebrating European Fords, and a 1966 Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider. Both found time on every pass, with run times improving steadily from the first morning climb to the last of the afternoon.
For both drivers, the run was a comfortable one. Once belted in, the seat simply disappeared from mind. What remained was the road, the next corner and the clock, which is exactly what a seat should leave them with.
The People Who Make It Run
What stays with you at Maryhill is how much everyone looks out for each other. Competitors lend tools, share spares and help push cars into place. A driver who is done for the day often walks back to the start to watch a friend's run.
None of it happens without the volunteers. Flaggers, workers and the Rural 7 Volunteer Fire Department stand along the course all day so the cars can climb safely. They are as much a part of the event as anyone behind a wheel, and the drivers make a point of saying so.
This year carried extra weight. 2026 was the first running under the Maryhill Loops Vintage Hillclimb Reunion (MLVHR), following the death of long-time organizer Starke Shelby. The event he helped carry for years came back whole, run by people who clearly care about keeping it going.
At 4:30 the timing stops and the social hour begins. Cars cool in the paddock, hands get shaken, toasts get made, and the conversation turns from times to stories. As the light drops over the hills, nobody seems in a rush to load up.
Until Next October
Twenty-seven runnings into the revival, the enthusiasm has not thinned. If anything, a new chapter under MLVHR has given it fresh energy, with veterans and first-timers already talking about next year before the trailers are closed.
Maryhill is rare: a lost road brought back, a small field, a single weekend. That is exactly why people return. Our thanks to MLVHR, the volunteers, Rural 7 VFD and the Maryhill Museum.
The road goes quiet again now. It will be waiting next October.
Seats, Perfected.
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