On a day men showed off antique cars younger than them, Frank Druzisky was standing up for the honor of his ride.

"They were way ahead of their time," said Mr. Druzisky, 70, or 25 years older than his 1963 Studebaker GT Hawk.

Sleek, black, and derivative, Mr. Druzisky's car had the roof-line of a Thunderbird, the front grill of a Mercedes and, originally, the price tag of a good leather couch.

"You could hit the fender and break your hand," Mr. Druzisky said.

The qualifying races for the Pittsburgh Vintage Grand Prix yesterday ran a circuit around a sea of restored metal, tubed tires and curvaceous fenders as 30 antique car clubs displayed their wares.

Across the lawn from Mr. Druzisky's Studebaker was a 1929 Deusenberg Model J, the very kind Frank Deusenberg himself rolled over on Route 30 in Somerset County almost 75 years ago. There were Fiat Spiders and Jaguar classics and a 1949 Packard that looked like a bathtub with a roof.

A 1978 Lincoln Mark V, which made the state's 25-year antiquity cutoff by just a few years, sat across the lane from a 1956 T-Bird convertible. A few dealerships brought along the new stuff -- there was a $18,000 Smart Car, a two-seat bubble that looked like the escape module for the Mark V.

Amid this plenitude of metal, rubber and depleted checkbooks stood the Pride of Old South Bend, Ind., the Studebakers. Once they were regarded as the car you bought when you couldn't afford an automobile.

What teen wanted to be seen in one?

"That's true," said Mr. Druzisky. "

"They were sort of a ho-hum car. They weren't very fancy," added Ron George, 65, of Moon.

The company introduced 19^th-century air conditioning in the mid-20^th century. It consisted of a tube installed along the passenger side, packed with ice, allowing chilled wind to blow in as long as the ice held out. Mr. George insists this story is true.

Of course, Mr. George was showing off anything but a ho-hum car. He had a 1963 Studebaker Avanti. After Studebaker left the auto business in 1966 the Avanti lived on. Another manufacturer picked up the model and kept turning it out with nary a styling change.

As Mr. George tells it, Studebaker approached a high-end designer and pleaded for something people would buy. The Lark, introduced in the late 1950s, was no longer drawing them in. The old Commander model was too lumpen. The Avanti, with its swept fiberglass body, vestigial tail fins, and low-slung frame -- actually a Lark frame jazzed up -- was a hit.

"They had order after order after order but they couldn't make 'em fast enough," Mr. George said. After churning out 4,600 Avantis, the company was, nonetheless, out of business.

What had ended as an automobile company was resurrected as a sort of automotive religion. Collectors abound, and neither Mr. Druzisky nor Mr. George would part with their cars.

"We have two Buicks and a two-car garage," said Mr. Druzisky. His wife's Buick has to sit in the driveway winters while the family Studebakers stay snug.

There were, of course, those who scoff. Across the lane, a bit closer to the roar of yesterday's qualifying races, aficionados showed off their European models.

Jeff Breem, who drove up from Maryland to display his '65 Austin Healy 3000, wasn't looking for a trade.

"Studebakers?" he grinned. "They're great as long as they're in the right-hand lane."