The Super-Rare Lamborghini He Found at the End of an Oregon Dirt Road

Jeff Meier, a 62-year-old automotive consultant living in Los Angeles, on his 1969 Lamborghini Miura S, as told to A.J. Baime.

In 2000, I was visiting relatives in Oregon. My aunt told me about this guy who owned an old orange Lamborghini. I asked, “What model?” She said, “How would I know?” I was curious. My sister knew everyone in this little town, and she was able to find him. He lived on an 800-acre ranch. There was this long dirt road, and a shack that looked deserted. I knocked on the door and this hunched-over man came out.

He asked, “Hey, son, how can I help you?” I said, “I’m visiting from out of town. I’m a car guy. I heard you’re a car guy.” He said, “Come on in.”

His name was Earl, and he started telling stories. I asked about a photo of this orange Lamborghini on his refrigerator. He led me to his garage, pulled a tarp away, and there was this Miura. I could not believe my eyes. This is an incredibly rare vehicle. It has been called the father of all supercars, and the most beautiful car of all time. It is also the car that put Lamborghini on the map.

As the story goes, back in the 1960s, Ferruccio Lamborghini was just a couple years in business as a car manufacturer in Italy. He had made his money building tractors. He had young guys working for him and they wanted to go racing. They designed this chassis and engine, and through a series of events, this car went into production with a body built by the coachbuilder Bertone. [A coachbuilder is a designer and builder of car bodies.]

When the Miura debuted in 1966, it was as if a spaceship had landed. It was the most outrageous and extravagant thing—a mid-engine, transverse-mounted V-12 race car with a streetcar body. It was the fastest car in the world. All kinds of celebrities bought Miuras—Miles Davis, Twiggy the model. [Lamborghini ended up building 763 Miuras between 1966 and 1972, according to the company’s website.]

I have been involved in cars my entire life. When I was growing up, my father owned an auto repair shop. When I was 20, I got a dream job caretaking a collection of vintage cars. The job paid $5 an hour, but I would have done it for free. I have been involved with vintage autos ever since. When I discovered Earl’s Miura, I knew it was one of the finest unrestored original examples I had ever seen. It was amazing because existing cars typically had rust problems, or they’d been in accidents, or they’ve had engine fires. This car had none of that. And it was an S version, with more horsepower and nuanced styling.

I asked Earl how he had gotten it. He had been an engineer who purchased this car as a retirement gift to himself from a Chicago dealership in 1970. He had driven it out to Oregon. From the time he bought the car to when I first saw it, he was the only person who had driven it. The car had 16,000 miles on it, and it still had its original set of tires. It was a true needle-in-a-haystack scenario.

Earl refused to sell me the car, but I kept in touch. When he died in 2005, I was notified by the estate, and I was able to acquire the Miura at market price. In a 10-year period, I took the car from being a “barn find” to a first-in-class winner at the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance [widely regarded as the most prestigious vintage car show in the world] in California.

What is it like to drive this car? The Miura sits so low to the ground that when you look out your window you are looking at the wheels of the cars around you. The high-revving engine is right behind you. The music from this 12-cylinder, the mechanical sounds of the transmission, it is all hard to describe. It is just magical.

In our 20s, my new husband and I took a year off from our fledgling careers to travel in Southeast Asia. Equipped with paper maps, we began in China and improvised each day’s “itinerary” on the go. A gap year for grown-ups, I called it, although I scarcely qualified as one.

Nearly 40 years later, we are new retirees with the same wanderlust. We wondered: Could we recapture the thrill of winging it, enduring rough roads and cheap hotels?

We could and did, but for 2½ months instead of 12. We mapped out a route that would take us up Africa’s east coast and then—who knows where? Here’s how we rolled and five important lessons we learned on a 6,000-mile trip.

Kenya: Live large by day

Our first stop was the tiny, car-free island of Lamu, well-known for its high-profile visitors, from Kate Moss to the Obamas. This low-key getaway offered white-sand beaches, dhows — boats you can rent for day cruises and snorkelling — and lots of donkeys, the main mode of transport.

We considered the beachside Peponi Hotel in Shela, a hot spot since the 1960s (Mick Jagger bunked there). But room rates start at $250, far above our per-night budget of $70 or less. When contemplating almost 100 nights of travel, price matters.

So we chose a villa in the dunes called Amani Lamu, $61 per night for an en suite room with a private terrace and shared plunge pool.

We still had a cool Peponi moment come sunset: On the hotel’s whitewashed veranda, we sipped Pepotinis and plotted our next day’s interlude at the Majlis, Lamu’s fanciest resort (from $580).
With a $20 day pass, we could lounge around its pools and beach bars like proper resort habitués.

Lesson learned: Live like billionaires by day and frugal backpackers by night.
Must-go: Across the bay on Manda Island, bunk a night in a thatched-roof bungalow on stilts at Nyla’s Guest House and Kitchen (from $48 with breakfast).
After a dinner of doro wat, a spicy Ethiopian chicken stew and rice, the sound of waves will lull you asleep.

Egypt: Ask. Politely.

From Lamu, we flew to Aswan in Egypt. Our “plan”: Cruise down the Nile to Luxor, then take a train to Cairo, and venture to Giza’s pyramids.

Turns out it’s the kind of thing one really should book in advance. But at our Aswan hostel, the proprietor, who treated us like guests deserving white-glove service, secured a felucca, a vessel manned by a navigator and captain-cum-cook. Since we’d booked fewer than 24 hours in advance and there were no other takers, we were its sole passengers for the three-day trip.

One day, we stopped to tour ancient temples and visit a bustling camel fair, but otherwise, we remained on board watching the sunbaked desert slide by. We slept on futons on the deck under the stars. The cost: about $100 per night per person, including three meals.

Lesson learned: Ask for help. We found Egyptians kind and unfazed by our haplessness, especially when we greeted them respectfully with assalamu alaikum (“Peace to you”).
Must-go: For buys from carpets to kebabs, don’t miss Cairo’s massive Khan el-Khalili bazaar, in business since 1382. We loved the babouche, cute leather slippers, but resisted as our packs were full.

Turkey: Heed weather reports

Next stop Tunisia, via a cheap flight on EgyptAir. We loved Tunisia, but left after six days because the weather got chilly.

Fair enough, it was January. We hopped continents by plane and landed in Istanbul, where it snowed. Fortunately, two of Istanbul’s main pleasures involve hot water. We indulged in daily hammams, or Turkish baths, ranging from $30 to $60 for services that included, variously, a massage, a scrub-down and a soak.

Beneath soaring ceilings at the temple-like Kılıç Ali Paşa Halamı, brisk workers sternly wielded linen sacks to dowse my body in a cloud of hot foam.
In between visits to Ottoman-era mosques and the city’s spice markets, we staved off the chill by drinking fruity pomegranate tea and sampling Turkish delight and baklava at tea salons.

A favourite salon: Sekerci Cafer Erol in Kadıköy, a ferry-ride away on the “Asian” side of Istanbul, where the city adjoins Asia.

Lesson learned: Pay attention to the weather gods. We foolishly took the concept of travelling off-season too far.
Must-go: Don’t miss the Istanbul Modern, the Renzo Piano-designed art museum in the historic Beyoğlu district.

Cambodia: Chill out

After a long flight from Istanbul, we spent two weeks in Laos and then hopped another plane to Cambodia, specifically Koh Rong Sanloem, another car-free island.

Like vagabonds, we lolled by the warm, super-blue water of Sunset Beach, steps from our bungalow at Sleeping Trees (from $54 per night).
A caveat: You have to sweat to get to this island paradise. We took a bus, a ferry and then hiked for 40 minutes up and down a steep hill and through a jungle. You’ll find only a handful of “resorts”—simple bungalow complexes like ours. There’s nothing much to do. I’ll be back.

Lesson learned: Until our week in Cambodia, we’d been travelling too much and too fast, prioritising exploration over relaxation. This island taught us the pleasures of stasis.
Must-go: Spend one day in Cambodia’s capital city, Phnom Penh, to delve into its sobering history. Tour the Choeung Ek Genocidal Centre, site of a Killing Field, where nearly 9,000 Cambodians died.

Thailand: Be a frugal hedonist

We spent our last two weeks on the island of Ko Samui, where season three of “The White Lotus” was shot.

We went there for its astounding beauty, not the luxury resort experience that comes with too many boisterous lads on vacation, snake farms and traffic jams in town.

Truth be told, we flouted our budget rules to book an Airbnb with a pool (from $300) in the hills of Lipa Noi on the island’s quiet side. We joined the nearby Gravity Movement Gym to work out, but cooked our own meals to keep our final tabulation of expenses within reach.

Lesson learned: Pinching pennies feels restrictive, no matter how lush the surroundings. And it leads to bickering, as partners tally up who squandered how much on what.
With the end in sight, we splurged on the villa and even bought souvenirs, knowing we’d lug them for days, not weeks.
Must-go: Take the 30-minute ferry to sister island Ko Pha Ngan for its peace, love and yoga vibe and, once a month, full-moon parties.
Via Airbnb, we bunked at a Thai house called Baan Nuit, run by the Dear Phangan restaurant proprietors.

We sampled steamed dumplings, white fish in a Thai basil sauce and spicy noodles for a mere $15 apiece.
Hey, indulge in that “White Lotus” moment if you dare!