As a lifelong car nerd, I was vaguely aware of the Duryea Brothers’ significance to the American automobile industry. In short, they were the first Americans to build (in 1893) and sell (in 1896) an internal combustion-powered car. I was also familiar with the fact that one of the earliest forms of auto racing was hill climbing. After all, with horsepower figures in the single- and low-double-digit range, those early models had a lot to prove. What I hadn’t realized when we moved to Pennsylvania a decade ago was just how close my new home would be to both pieces of history.
From my office in Pottstown, the city of Reading is but a short 25-minute drive away, most notable for its steel and railroad industries. At the turn of the 2oth century it was also a hotbed of small car manufacturers as we covered in this story. Among them (briefly) was Charles Duryea who, after parting ways with his brother Frank, built cars in Reading from 1900 to 1911.
To test each new vehicle he manufactured, Duryea would run it up the unpaved switchback road from City Park to the top of Mount Penn. This challenging 12-turn route required the vehicle to climb 650 feet in just two miles. As sports car racing became popular in the 1950s, the legendary test route re-emerged as the competitive Reading Hill Climbs. Two separate events, the Duryea Hill Climb and the Pagoda Hill Climb, continue to this day.
Before moving East from Chicago, I first read about American hill climb racing in Burt Levy’s historical fiction novel “The Last Open Road”. In this brilliant and hilarious chronicle of 1950s road racing, the fictional Buddy Palumbo introduces readers to the very real history of Pennsylvania’s hill climbs including Giant’s Despair and the Reading events.
Since 1951, the Reading hill climbs have been a staple of East Coast sports car enthusiasts. The road was paved in the 1930s and there are far more safety considerations than in those early days. But the spirit of open-road, run-what-you-brung motorsport lives on in these amateur races, as I finally witnessed at this year.
After ten years out east, the race weekend finally coincided with a hole in my schedule, even if the weather didn’t cooperate. I navigated to the corner of Hill Avenue and Clymer Street, which by pure coincidence is the starting point of the races. On my way, it seemed fitting that I passed right by local sports car shop Proper Noise. Shortly after parking nearby, I caught the PA system announcement thanking all the sponsors, including, well…Proper Noise.
While the events are somewhat spectator-friendly (more on that in a second), they exist primarily for the drivers. As long as you aren’t in anyone’s way, you’re free to walk the paddock area. It’s great way check out the cars up close and talk to the drivers. If you’ve ever been to an autocross event, it’s the same vibe. Low-key, approachable enthusiasts out looking to nail their best time.
Viewing the racing can be challenging, however, as it takes place on a closed road on a steep, wooded hillside. Expect to walk (and climb) to catch a decent vantage point and be prepared for long breaks in the action. This is not wheel-to-wheel action but rather single-car time trials. And because some cars fail to make it up the hill, the action sometimes comes to a halt entirely.
As for the cars, they’re essentially the same ones you might see at your local SCCA autocross event. A mix of small import sports cars, powerful American muscle machines, and the occasional dedicated track beast. Drivers compete within their class against similar vehicles.
The wet conditions on my first time out meant there wasn’t a lot of fast action to witness. But as a veteran autocrosser, the thrill of the scene had me missing those days. More overwhelming for me was the sense of nostalgia for the early days of the event. It was as if I’d stepped onto the pages the first time I read “The Last Open Road.” And that’s a good thing.
