“But the bridge is out, Bo”
“That’s what I’m countin’ on Luke”
Category: Historic Racing Photos
What could be better than a spirited drive in the mountains and a picnic lunch with friends? Ask “Quick” Vic Elford, seen here doing just that. Pausing to relax during his own spirited drive in the mountains, indeed.
Of course, the mountains in this case are those surrounding Palermo, Sicily. The lunch is served on the short tail of a Martini International Racing Porsche 908/3. And his fellow diners are the team and competitors of the 1971 Targa Florio. Perhaps this was to celebrate his fastest lap of that year’s race-rounding the 72km course in 33:45.6, an average over 127km/h.
This is how I’ll be taking my meals from now on.
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Peugeot Assault Force
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.
This Jeff Decker sculpture of a hillclimber in the throes of attempting control (and losing) graces the plaza of the Harley-Davidson Museum in Milwaukee. It is a mammoth bronze piece. At 150% scale, it is gigantic, weighing over 5,000 pounds and standing at 16 feet.
It is heroic; showing a rider that is dextrous, brave, and almost impossibly flexible. He struggles to control the machine that it uncontrollable; on a racing surface that is rough and unstable and constantly shifting. It’s a brilliant capture of an amazing, if inelegant, moment.
It’s the inelegance of it that I love about it. This is no proud victory posing with his laurels and receiving a kiss from the girl awarding a trophy; it isn’t a stoic lone biker rocketing across a desert highway; it is a competitor struggling to take his machine up the hill—and he is falling. Struggling to regain control, but almost certainly beyond the tipping point, the sculpture captures the instant before failure.
It is an unconventional moment to showcase, but one that I think exemplifies the spirit of competition and the determination of the competitor.
Shortly after the unveiling, there was criticism that this was a fanciful interpretation of the hillclimb. Many suggested that the events didn’t achieve this level of acrobatics or drama, and this was simply another artist’s flight of fancy in turning the mundane into the heroic. Several years have passed, and Jeff Decker recently showed some images on his blog that showcase that, if anything, his sculpture didn’t go far enough to capture the bravery of the early hillclimbers. Looking at these images, I’m inclined to believe him.
Head over to his blog to see the complete gallery.
As a non-traditional sports fan, I’ve always thought Sports Illustrated had a difficult relationship with sports that aren’t Football, Baseball, Basketball. But these covers from the 50s and 60s show that auto racing was once a cherished pillar in the temple of sportsmen. In recent years, there has been occasional NASCAR covers, and a Danica Patrick cover, but I think it’s fair to say that the “auto racing isn’t a sport” crowd are winning out on the editorial staff of SI.
Part of that isn’t the magazine’s fault, it’s the path that auto racing has taken. In early American sportscar racing, the driver was the key component. This was particularly true in the early days, when most drivers were competing in cars that were essentially off-the-shelf product. Pick it up at the dealership on Friday, race it on Saturday.
Today, the real muscle behind a successful racing enterprise isn’t so singular. It’s true that drivers get the bulk of the attention, but if the changing teams of Formula 1 have taught us anything, it’s that the best driver isn’t always the winning driver. What has happened is that, in broad strokes, racing has shifted from being an individual sport to a team sport. Sports Illustrated, as much as anyone else, knows that you aren’t going to sell a lot of magazines to the mass market with photos of aerodynamicists on the cover. And so it has struggled to figure out how to showcase racing on her cover pages.
This wasn’t always the case of course, so let’s check out some great covers from the magazine’s past coverage of our sport. Enough has been said about the decaying state of magazine design, so I won’t comment other than to to say, isn’t it nice to see powerful illustration and photography not have to compete with 25 article callouts. We’ve turned magazine covers from covers to photographic table of contents pages.
Look at this fire breathing beast; this terrifying, gigantic thing.
This is the very aptly named 1923 Fiat “Mefistofele”. This was the car that a very brave Ernest Eldridge attempted to wrangle to a World Land Speed Record in 1924. This mammoth machine—powered by a 350-horsepower, 21 liter airship engine—certainly looks up to the task, and despite it’s truck-like size, which surely is larger than she looks, Eldridge somehow managed to control the mighty Fiat long enough to achieve the record.
Eldridge and Mefistofele topped out a 146.013 mph over a flying kilometer in Arpajon, France. He had earlier piloted Mefistofele to a standing start half-mile record of 23.17 seconds at 77mph. Now a 23 second half mile might not sound like much to the muscle car fans among us, but I imagine that the only way to simulate the experience would be if you ran your ‘Cuda at the drags while strapped to the front bumper.
This, my friends, is a proper racing car: a little scary, a little elegant, a lot purposeful looking. Let me just say again 21 Liter airship engine. Traction control? Automatic shift? Anti-lock brakes? No. Driving this machine must be like trying to tame a dragon.
Mefistofele indeed.
Let us all salute this impressive monster, and the man who tamed her as an example of the bravado and determination that so roused our collective passion for motorsport.
Look at the enthusiasm of the flag waiver in this shot of Jim Clark winning the 1967 US Grand Prix at Watkins Glen. I’m sure Jimmy was well pleased to win his 3rd GP of the season, but the flagman here is the real expression of joy in this photo. I’m pretty sure that flagmen aren’t leaping into the air today in their little balcony over the start/finish line.
And don’t you think we should really be reintroducing the laurels to the victors of today’s races? Then again, I suppose that they would cover the sponsor logo patches. Drivers are far more important as walking billboards than they are as athletes or sportsmen. Alas.
You don’t often think of the Porsche 914 as a rally car, but this shot from the 2010 Boucles de Spa rally in Belgium shows it’s versatility yet again. She may among the forgotten and unloved Porsches but I’m always impressed by them at vintage races, where they often participate in 4 or 5 different race groups—another sign of their range. This is, after all, a car that finished sixth overall at the 1970 24 Hours of Le Mans, and deserves more props than it gets.
Fantastic bokeh in this shot.
(via Bulgogi Brothers)
Update: Guillaume T has been identified as the photographer. It’s an amazing shot, as are the rest of his photos from the event, which you can find on his Flickr. Thanks Guillaume!
Actually, It looks like his brake drum is still attached to the wheel. Oops.
Looks like I’ll have to add Salon Retromobile to my list of future automotive events to attend. I usually prefer my vintage racecar events to include some racing, but these photos from Martin Vincent’s Flickr Stream have me convinced that the fact that this event is held indoors is no barrier to seeing some very high quality machines. This unveiling of an ex-Regazzoni, Andretti, Galli and Merzario Ferrari 312B really puts me over the edge. Beautiful!
See more of Martin’s remarkable shots at his Retromobile Gallery.
More on the Ferrari 312B at Hall & Hall.