The Mille Miglia legacy and Ferrari are closely intertwined, and with good reason. As such, Mille Miglia 2010 is celebrating the history of the race and the marque by allowing a special 120 car procession of post 1958 Ferraris to precede the Mille competitors from Rome to Brescia. This means, of course, that drivers of contemporary Ferraris can join in the fray, driving through the lovely Italian towns that are otherwise closed to automobile traffic. Pistunzén here sure seems excited about it (what the Hell is up with the cartoon piston?). I suppose this is good news for Ferrari drivers, but I really don’t see the point of it all.
The Mille Miglia isn’t a race anymore, officially anyway ;). It’s billed as a time trial, but even that is a bit of a stretch. It’s a renaissance festival. I’m not saying that to disparage it. The thing I like most about it is that we get out our early sportscars—the Mille ended quite early after all—and we parade them through some of the most picturesque countryside the world has to offer. I think that is what makes the event what it is, extraordinarily rare cars seen in the appropriate environment. Oddly, in this case, it’s the modern cars that are an anachronism. There’s a reason Lord March hides the modern cars indoors during Goodwood.
Don’t spoil the fantasy.
What do you think? Do modern Ferraris add to the fun and I’m just a stick in the mud? Or should the Mille Miglia remain the exclusive domain of period appropriate racers?
We’ve had quite a bit of focus lately on the factories and workshops that turned out our dream machines. Winter has hit the upper Midwest and the garage must be calling. These scenes were photographed in preparation for the 1953 Mille Miglia and the wrenches were spinning furiously amongst the Italian makers. The home race is always reason enough to turn up the heat a bit.
OSCA
Maserati
And of course, the rather more commanding Ferrari floor.
Here’s Mike Hawthorn checking in on the 250MM Spyder he’d be piloting for the race. He DNFed that year, but his car is still looking amazing 56 years later. The race would be won by the 250’s larger brother, Giannino Marzotto’s 340MM Spyder.
Maybe I’m feeling a little nostalgic in the approaching Holiday season. I was about 7 or 8 years old and sitting at the south side of Hart Plaza with my fingers in my ears. If only I’d understood. It wasn’t until years later that punk rock taught me that loud = good. For engines too.
After the race weekend, my dad was able to grab one of those Renault Elf banners you see lining the track. It hung for a couple of years from my ceiling, eventually tearing. It’s near the top of my list of things I wish I’d kept from childhood.
If you can look past the lackluster photography and vacuum of information at all on the sale detail page, this 1939 Maserati 4CL 1500 offers a remarkable story and a beautiful shape. I’m on a bit of a pre-war Italians kick lately, so this Maser jumped right off the screen on Klaus Werner Klassische Automobile’s web site. Like all 4CLs, this straight-4 powered, 4-speed menace was important not only for it’s brutal appearance, but for giving a solid go at fending off the Silver Arrows during their absolute domination in the immediate pre-war period.
This example, chassis 1567, wasn’t just any Maserati 4CL: it’s the first one. British GP Driver Reggie Tongue bought this car, the first complete example, on April 5, 1939, just in time for the International Trophy race at Brooklands a month later. In the 4CL’s race debut, Tongue wrestled the Maser to a 3rd place finish, with Prince Bira winning. Two months later at the Grand Prix de L’albigeois, Tongue did one better, taking 1567 to 2nd place. This time finishing behind fellow Brit Johnnie Wakefield.
After the war, as was so often the case, 1567 was pulled out of mothballs to take back to the track, this time in the hands of former Delahaye driver, Robert Mazaud. Mazaud re-introduced the car to the racing world at the 1946 Grand Prix de Nice. Unfortunately the car didn’t go the distance, dropping out on lap 22 with a faulty magneto. He had mixed results a few weeks later in the Grand Prix de Marseille, taking pole and winning the first heat, but crashing out on the first lap of heat 2. A 3rd place at I Coupe René le Bègue in June would be his last success with the car. In the following few races, the Maserat DNFed for a variety of reasons; bad steering, bad cylinders. I cannot confirm the chassis number, but it would stand to reason that this 4CL was the car Mazaud was driving when he was killed in the 1946 Prix des 24 Heures du Mans in a crash on the 3rd lap. Mazaud’s popularity was such that in October of ’46, the Bois de Boulogne race was christened “I Coupe Robert Mazaud“.
Can you believe that the seller hasn’t shared any of this amazing story? It’s not only a markedly beautiful car, but this very example shared Brooklands with Bira and Boulogne with Nuvolari. It’s an stunningly beautiful monoposto, and I hope the new owner will continue to race her at vintage events to share her with the rest of us.
Update: It looks like we’ve mixed up our 4CLs in the immediate post-war. The commenter below informs us that Tongue’s 4CL was sold during the war and the Mazaud record above was with a different Maserati. We’re sorry for the incorrect information in the original post and thank you, Gigleux, for correcting me. I still contend that dealers should share the histories of their cars so it’s not entirely up to racing fans to try and track down this information. Such as the tidbit that The Mestro may have driven this car. This page shows a racing record of Fangio driving 1567 in the Buenos Aires Formula Libre race in January, 1948.
Knowing where to place your pressure sensitive labels is an important part of your slot racing team strategy. Now you won’t be in the dark when you’re assembling your GTO or DB5.
Remember slot racers, magnets are for wimps; and me.
When I was playing A LOT of Tetris as a kid, my mind went a little funny. Whatever I would see that day—a car, the space between buildings, the front of the classroom—in my mind I was subconsciously figuring out what Tetris pieces I needed to fill in the space. It’s an odd sensation.
I imagine that Paul “Lego911” has a similar affliction. Whenever he sees a shape, I’m betting his mind starts figuring out how to sculpt it in Lego bricks. The condition must be grave, because he’s got serious skills. You probably didn’t think you could craft the gentle arc of a Ferrari 250 GT Lusso’s bonnet, the distinctive mouth of an Aston Martin DB5, or the short tail of a Porsche 917K from humble Lego bricks, did you? Turns out, in the hands of a master, you can.
Thankfully, Paul has learned that he’s not alone. He’s started a Flickr group called LUGNUTS as a support system of sorts and found others with the same condition artistic vision.
Speaking of early 911s, let’s hear what Sports Illustrated’s guest sportscar reviewer, Steve McQueen, thought of the 911 in 1966. This is excerpted from a larger article in which Steve drove the latest sportscars from Porsche, Aston Martin, Ferrari, Alfa, Mercedes, Jaguar, and the latest Cobra and Corvette.
“Like the 230SL, the other German car, the Porsche 911, was a six. The Mercedes straight-six is in the front. The Porsche flat-six, with horizontally opposed cylinders—an engine developed from the Grand Prix car of a few seasons ago—is in the rear. I was curious to see how much the Porsche had changed since I raced my Super, which had the four-cylinder engine. Boy, it’s changed. Road noise used to be a problem with that rear-engine location, but on the 911 I got very little noise. The old Porsches had that violent oversteer tendency, and they would get out of whack with no warning. You’d be hung out and locked in your steering with nowhere to go. We used to decamber the rear wheels 2½° to 3½°, so they kind of looked like somebody had sat on them, and toe them in half a degree to get a certain amount of stability. Now the problem has been corrected. The 911 was a very neutral-handling car, very docile, very pleasant to drive, and the five-speed gearbox sure was easy to use. The brakes were just fine. Once a gust of wind caught me on the back straight and slid me over a few feet, but the car didn’t get radical in its handling.
There is a four-cylinder Porsche—the less expensive 912—and I imagine it has a little more snap at low RPM than the 911 but not as much top speed. With that six the 911 honks right along.”
Steve McQueen
There you have it, the cooler king’s impressions reacquainting himself with Porsche, which of course worked out splendidly for the next few years. After all, like the poster says, McQueen drives Porsche. All that and a bonus handling modification tip for 356 drivers.
One of my favorite eras of the 911, and seeing this many together is a real treat. I love that the Porsche factory still has a bit of grime to it, not like the current photography you see of the facility with the line workers in white lab coats and the highly polished floors. This is no operating room, this is a sportscar shop.