This is the second year of the Targa California and it looks like steady increases in participants. This is good, because there’s nothing more dubious than a “First Annual” event. The Targa California looks like it has a bright future. Starting out from the mountains north of Mailibu and touring along the central California coast with a bunch of other pre-75 cars doesn’t sound like a bad way to spend a few days, does it?
Check out BaT’s coverage this week.
Last time we dove into the John McClure archives, it was to visit the March ’55 running of the Palm Springs Road Races. What a difference a few months makes, since we’re starting off with shots of snow en route to the races, which must have come as a bit of a shock to the Southern Californians heading into the desert. Lovely views of a very packed group of Porsches and a Citroen 2CV (!) in the small-bore race before we settle into the main event.
It looks like John was able to get quite close to the action for this race and there are some great shots of a quite famous field. He may have even been a bit too close for Bill Willett’s tangle with the hay bales in his Arnolt-Bristol after losing steering. Also in this race is the chicken farmer himself in a red Jaguar D-Type (#63); I almost don’t recognize Carroll Shelby without his cowboy hat.
A good percentage of the reel, though, is the excellent battle between Ernie McAfee in the blue Ferrari Monza (#76) and Masten Gregory in the Maserati 300s (#207). They were at it all weekend, trading victories in the various heats on Saturday and Sunday. Masten took the Formula Libre race on Saturday afternoon for 1.5-3liter cars, with McAfee taking the victory in prelims. But in the main event pictured here the honors went to Masten, with Mcafee following only a fraction of a second behind. Great Stuff.
Also keep your eyes peeled for: Bill Murphy’s Kurtis-Buick, Dick Morgensen’s Special, Ken Miles’ Maserati 150S, Rudy Cleye’s Mercedes-Benz 300 SL, and Chuck Daigh’s Troutman-Barnes Mercury Special.
Remember, The Chicane wants to show your footage to the world too. If you have some old film cans stacked in the closet: get them out, and get in touch at tips@thechicane.com
My friends have all told me that Vintage Formula Vee is the way to go for a first vintage racecar. They’re reasonably inexpensive. They’re relatively easy to maintain. They’re lightweight, so you don’t need a monster tow rig. Most importantly they’re the most affordable to run.
Up until now I believed them.
This is the REAL cheapest entrée into the world of vintage racing: the old school go-kart. I’m not talking about the shifter karts that have been the foundation of our last few Formula 1 World Champions. I’m talking about the heavy steel frame your grandfather welded together in the workshop, with a hot-rodded lawn mower engine (or twin chainsaw engines).
They still look like endless fun.
More at VintageKarts.com. Or check out this fantastic article or these plans in the Popular Mechanics Archive.
Beautiful. Elegant. Purposeful. I’ve caught myself fantasizing about this particular variation on the Maser A6GCS since it got so much camera time in the BBC2 program, The Real Italian Job: James Martin’s Mille Miglia. While the program is a fairly poor trip through the contemporary Mille Miglia Rally, and the chef’s Maser gave out far too early to really see the beautiful sights of the Mille, there is a shining highpoint that made the program well worth watching: the absolutely captivating A6GCS. Although the dealer doesn’t mention it, this car appears to be the very example featured in the program—notice the Mille Miglia rally number featured on the car here, James Martin’s car bore the same number.
Maserati created a variety of different sportscars under the A6 model designation, from rather luxurious coupes to open-top enclosed-fender sportscars. This stripped-down, (mostly) open wheel variant though is, for me, the title holder. She’s absolutely marvelous, looking something like a machine that somehow successfully combines the Formula Car, Sportscar, and Hot Rod. There’s nothing here that doesn’t need to be, there are no dramatic design flourishes—it is the very essence of form following function.
This example, chassis #2006, is currently among the stock of London dealer Cars International Kensington. One of only 3 of this variant made, she was supplied new to Baron Nicola Musmeci in May, 1948. The Baron wasted no time preparing the car for the Targa Florio the following March, where it placed 4th. He repeated the trip around Sicily the following year, bringing this little machine home in 5th place. The car also raced as a Formula 2 car with the passenger seat blocked out and the road equipment stripped out, and even entered the Mille Miglia in 1951.
Musmeci apparently didn’t tire from the car after the string of successes because the car didn’t change hands until 1972. Sadly the next owner largely mothballed it after a body restoration, and we haven’t seen it on the track until Cars International, after acquiring the car (presumably for Martin) in 2007, entered her in the 2008 Mille Miglia. It has since been restored again, this time with a complete engine rebuild as well. Count ’em. That’s 3 owners since 1948. The James Martin program went into some detail about James buying this car, but was Cars International the “owner”? When Cars International says they “acquired” the car, they did so on Martin’s behalf? This is all assuming I’m right and that this is indeed the James Martin car, which seems more than likely.
I’ve been obsessing about this car for quite some time now, even pouring over this Gilco chassis construction diagram. Why should I let my non-existant welding skills get in the way of building my dream? After all, I’m going to assume it’s HIGHLY unlikely that one of these will come available in my price range any time soon.
More photos and information on the dealer’s info page.
I would be cheering my fool head off for the Peugeot effort at the 24 Heurs du Mans if they still wore these uniforms and masks. Bad. Ass.
This is Eddie Richenbacker and Fred McCarty at the 1914 Corona road race showing off Eddie’s new gizmo for allowing the driver and riding mechanic to communicate while driving. That’s just a speaking tube connecting the two masks.
There, there; it’s not so scary once you know what it’s for, right? No. It’s still menacing as Hell.
The team dropped out of the race after 37 laps, clearing the way for Eddie Pullen in his #4 Mercer to take home victory—and the $6,000 purse. More photos of the Corona Road Races at the Corona Public Library’s Flickr.
Finally. Some proof to back up what many of us have been saying for quite some time. Whether you think the cause is team orders, the air disruption caused by excessive rear wing, the abandoning of mechanical grip in favor of aerodynamic downforce, or any of the dozens of other reasons behind the diminishing state of Formula 1, the answer seems clear. Look at the brilliant chart of overtaking in Formula 1 since 1983 that Brogan presented on Clip the Apex (and I suspect the data would be even more damning if we went further back).
I think we can agree that this is where the interesting bits of racing are, the passing, the maneuvering, the battles. Not in the pits, mind you, but on the track. These are the moments of a race that elevate a race from a pleasant Sunday afternoon’s viewing to legend. The data doesn’t lie, overtaking in Formula 1 has been in absolute free-fall for the past 25 years, and looks likely to continue with the double diffuser.
Head over to Clip the Apex for more analysis and more details on the data used to create the chart. I’m sure you’ll feel the same way I do: both vindicated and bummed out.
The mid-engine revolution was, of course, prompted by Jack Brabham’s 1959 World Championship win at the wheel of a Cooper Formula 1 car. Shortly thereafter Cooper took the 1960 championship winning T53 car to Indy for a test in 1960, entering the race the following year. The Indianapolis 500 community initially shunned the goofy little car, but eventually Indy was running the configuration as well.
What I don’t understand about this is why the rear and mid-engine platform wasn’t adopted more quickly after the war. The Auto Unions certainly showcased the viability of the configuration before the war. Was their dominance so quickly forgotten?
Dr. Porsche’s engineers built upon his design for the Auto Union after the war, working with Cisitalia in 1947 to build a mid-engined Formula 1 car borrowing largely from the basic construction of the Silver Arrows. Their were, of course, some changes. The engine was more powerful, for one. Laurence Pomeroy’s text, The Grand Prix Car, describes in far more detail than I could.
The horizontally opposed twelve-cylinder engine is placed directly behind the driver’s seat and the vertically split light alloy crankcase extends outwards to form the water jackets. Individual cylinder liners in direct contact with the water are inserted and are sealed by light alloy detachable cylinder heads which are cast in one piece for each block. Each head carries two valves at an included angle of 90 degrees which seat direct, the inlet valve having an o.d. of 35 mm. giving a total inlet valve area of 17.9 sq. in. This is slightly greater than the area available on the 1939 3-litre Auto Unions and in accord with a projected output of 500 b.h.p.
Laurence Pomeroy
The valves are opened by two camshafts for each bank through the medium of followers and a single 18 mm. plug is used set well back and with a 6 mm. passage connecting the points to the combustion chamber.
The bore and stroke give a piston area of 45.7 sq. in. and the seven-bearing Hirth type crankshaft has the remarkably large diameter of 54 mm., which is nearly equal to the bore itself. Even the gudgeon-pin is 18 mm. diameter, or one-third of the cylinder bore, and although the connecting rods which are one-piece types are conven- tionally proportioned with a length between centres of crank radius x 4 they are absolutely only 4 in. long. In consequence, that section of the rod lying above the big end radii and below the gudgeon-pin fillet is little more than 13⁄4 in. long, giving an exceptionally stiff assembly
The Grand Prix Car
The suspension did deviate somewhat from the Pre-War Auto Unions. Rather than following up on the swing axles of the Auto Union A-C cars or the de Dion unit of the Auto Union D-Type, the 360 favored independent suspension in a radius arm configuration with a hydraulic damper and torsion bars. Up front was the VW/Porsche type trailing arm independent suspension.
So you see, I just don’t get it: mid-engine, independent suspension all around, 500 horsepower, and this was 1949… Shouldn’t this have made the mid-engine revolution come a decade earlier? Why wasn’t the Cisitalia-Porsche a massive success and powerhouse on the track? I’m sure you won’t be surprised to learn that it all came down to finances.
The project’s backer plain ran out of funds as the project was finishing. In a scramble for cash, the development team shipped to car to Argentina to try and persuade Juan Perón to help finance the project. But by ’52, the Formula 1 rules had changed and engines displacements were altered, killing the Cisitalia-Porsche 360 before it had any real opportunity to take on the Formula 1 competition. The car participated in a few Formula Libre races in South America before it was shelved.
The project wasn’t a total loss. It did raise enough funds to spring Dr. Porsche from French prison in what was basically a simple ransom. Although Dr. Porsche was held as a war criminal, no charges were ever brought against him and no trial was ever scheduled; there was just the simple matter of his 500,000 Franc bail. Today the car is part of the Porsche Museum’s collection.
What do you think? If the Cisitalia-Porsche had raced alongside Formula 1 competitors in the early 1950’s, would the mid-engine revolution have some sooner?
There’s a fine line between a really beautiful garage and a lovingly curated museum. Garage Journal member and classic 911 fanatic, Milou, is really flirting with the edge of that line, or he’s leapt right over it. If you spend any time at all browsing the endlessly luxurious garage galleries on the Garage Journal forums, you know that a humble 3-car detached garage is fairly run-of-the-mill. The garages that typically attract a lot of attention have square footage in the thousands, more than one lift, and more cabinet space than 10 kitchens. This garage though, is an absolute thing of beauty—and that’s before the ex-Siffert 2.2 liter rally 911 saddles up next to the ex-Wicky racing team 2.3 S/T and street 2.2 Targa.
As is so often the case, Milou’s collection goes beyond the cars and into Porsche collectibles. Vintage Porsche racing posters are a fantastic high-water mark in automotive graphic design and look good in any garage, but what about the Butzi Porsche designed sled? A retail display of Porsche touch-up paint pens? Heuer timekeeping devices? They all come together as a showpiece that would be an excellent place to kick up your feet and watch a race, or alphabetize your brochure collection.
You can read Milou’s garage build thread at the Garage Journal. Fantastic!
RM Auctions’ upcoming Sporting Classics at Monaco event has some stunningly beautiful machines crossing the block. Among them is this drop-dead gorgeous example of the mighty Tipo 61 “Birdcage” Maserati. Beautifully prepared and lovingly photographed, this Birdcage is ready for action.
This example, chassis #2470, was the third from last Birdcage to leave the factory, and boasts a string of wins Stateside and in Europe. Originally delivered to Texas oilman and SCCA president, Jack Hinkle. Despite his status of a wealthy collector that might ordinarily be relegated to the ranks of ‘gentleman racer’, Hinkle drove as hard as the professional racers that shared his grid. He won three of seven entered races with 2470. That’s an excellent season, especially considering that he was on the podium in all of the races the car finished (he had one DNF that season).
After the next owner (Can Am Series co-founder Tracy Bird) suffered a fire in the car, the car’s salvagable chassis was grafted with the chassis of the crashed ex-Roger Penske Birdcage. Ordinarily I don’t like these ‘half of one chassis, half of another’ jobs. But the fact that this repair was made in-period, well within the car’s original life, and is well documented, helps me overlook that. This isn’t one of those ‘started as a 330 America, now’s it’s a GTO’ hatchet jobs.
My favorite bit of history comes from the car’s third life at the hands of Lord Alexander Hesketh. He had Charles Lucas drive the car for a historic race that was the support event for the ’75 Austrian GP. Lucas piloted the Birdcage to a commanding lead. The lead was so strong that Lord Hasketh hung a sign over the pit wall reading “cocktails”. This was no mere celebratory “we’re going to win and celebrate with cocktails later”—it was an invitation. Lucas pulled into the pits for a quick nip, then repassed the field for a win. Mid-race cocktails doesn’t sound like such a good idea now, but the story is simply fantastic.
I’ve long adored these incredibly beautiful machines, both her masterfully designed bodywork and as the pinnacle of the space-frame chassis design. This is one of those machines where when you see her stripped of her panels, she looks even more sophisticated and impressive. The hundreds of thin gauge tubes welded together in an impossibly precise geometry looks part mathematics dissertation, part fighter jet, all mean.
Speaking of mean, the black livery on this example is intimidating. It’s so imposing that even though it hides the incredible lines of the bodywork, even though my heart wants it back in her original red-orange factory color, even though it somehow makes this outstanding machine recede into the background when one the grid with her fellow Italian machines—despite all of these very good reasons to repaint—I’d keep her as is.
She’s just so damn bad-ass looking. She could be none more black.
More information and photos on the lot detail page.
Well, not quite.. But this is as close as we’re likely to get. The owner of this Bielefeld, Germany velodrome let some vintage boardtrack enthusiasts on his highly banked (albeit paved and not planks) cycling track for a few laps in vintage boardtrackers. Although the pace looks pretty leisurely, I’d imagine the grade of those banks looks a lot steeper when you’re on them than they look in this clip. The onboard footage, complete with flickery, grainy, goodness give us as good an approximation of boardtracking as we’re likely to get these days.
I just love that this velodrome owner let these guys on the track. Imagine walking up to a business owner and saying, ‘excuse me, we’d like to do something extraordinarily dangerous on your business property. Just for fun.’
My hat is off to you sir.