They would, of course, repose in style, two comfortable heavy duty deck chairs with individualized cushions and a glass topped table to set their refreshments on sat near the edge of the road.

For the pair, it’s about fixing the perfect bloody mary and getting to hang out with friends.

“That’s what it’s all about,” Licht said. “Lots of cool cars come by, it gets bigger every year.”

The bloody mary they make is almost a meal. Cheese cubes, a pickle, a meat stick, the mandatory celery and yes, even shrimp. There’s a drink under all that somewhere.

The real secret though?

“I’ve got some spicy pickle flavored vodka.” Harms said.

David and Lee Banning, of Des Moines, had set up their tailgate just a few parking spaces down. She was busy making breakfast burritos.

“It’s once a year,” Lee Banning said as she added the eggs. “Normally he gets something else for breakfast.”

“I like the people,” David Banning said. “I like them all. Some better than others.”

As the day went on, hundreds of cars would make their way through the park. Many of the ones driving through early also stayed there to watch. By the official start time for the run, almost every legal parking area in the park would be occupied.

“I can’t pick a favorite,” David Banning said. “I like the classics, but many of them are too valuable to take on the road.”

It’s not that he lacks a classic car to bring.

“We’ve got 10,” he said. “I’m their caretaker.”

Among his favorites are a 1985 Corvette he drove on a trip to New England and a 1994 Camaro he took on a 3,000-mile road trip to Maine and Vermont.

Their bloody marys were a little more low key.

“We also have milk, coffee and water,” he said.

Roy Chamra, of Rose Hill, was surrounded by family, including a couple of grandsons resting up from a Saturday football game.

“We decided to bring brunch today,” he said. “We’re having breakfast burritos, apple muffins and there’s plenty of juice. For the adults, bloody marys.”

It’s about the camaraderie.

“That’s what the whole car thing is about,” Chamra said. “It’s people with a common interest. Everybody here loves cars. You have something in common. The cars are what draw the people together.”

It’s easy to tell the crowd is into the cars coming through by listening to their comments.

“Ohhh, ahhh, there’s a Comet, there’s a Matador.”

The air is a good indicator too.

The wonderful scent of food cooking mixes with exhaust fumes and a whiff or two of burnt oil.

It’s a car person’s very own outdoor scented candle.

When Steve Eddy, of Des Moines, pulled up to back his 1955 Chevrolet 210 Bel-Air into a parking spot, it died on the road. After a hesitant restart, he got it backed in.

Steve Carter, who had parked his 1954 Chevrolet 3100 pickup truck next to him, got out a vacuum gauge and helped him look at the issue under the hood.

“He needs to call his carb guy,” Carter said. “I only know enough to get in trouble.”

Carter had come through last year. This year, he decided to stop, park, then watch all the other cars.

Eddy agreed with Carter’s diagnosis.

“We just put a new carb on it,” he said. “There seems to be a little vacuum problem. It’s more work for when we get home.”

He, too, had brought along some beverages to enjoy. Like a good social car guy, he was willing to share.

“You want some?” he asked.

The group across the road, who did not bring a vacuum gauge, offered a whole different diagnosis.

“It’s timing,” they said.