I love the track at Paramount Ranch. That tunnel is so romantic and deadly, and the location in the Santa Monica Mountains ensured that Hollywood stars and starlets made appearances both mixing it up on course and spectating trackside.
A good example of the program for that first race at Paramount in August 1956 has come available on eBay. The price might drive some away, but what a marvelous reminder of the golden era of the California Sports Car Club. Just take a look at the footage of the race from our earlier post on the Ranch. How could you not want a reminder of this kind of immediate, friendly, competitive-as-hell era in motorsport.
Keep your eye on the auction. Thankfully by pointing you to it, I don’t have to be the one to buy it.
Back in May, The San Francisco Chronicle assembled a lovely remembrance of the Golden Gate Road Races held 60 years earlier. Looking at these photos, I’m not sure why the Golden Gate races don’t seem to hold the same fond mystique that other California round-the-house circuits have achieved. Perhaps it was because the event was only run between ’52 and ’54 that it just didn’t have time to build the legend that Pebble Beach or Palm Springs did.
While it may have largely faded from memory, there’s something so appealing about the idea of sports cars thundering through Golden Gate Park that feels so romantic. Walking or cycling the route today must conjure thoughts of Phil Hill’s Cad-Allard Jaguar C-Type or Bill Pollack’s Cad-Allard Jaguar C-Type(thanks for the correction, Colin) whipping around Elk Glen Lake. It’s marvelous, if bittersweet, to see these images of the Golden Gate Races running while knowing that they’d be almost impossible today.
But if the Pittsburgh Vintage Grand Prix has taught us anything, it’s that a vintage race in the park can indeed be run in the modern era. What’s more, it can be done in relative safety even while paying tribute to a more dangerous time. Certainly a city park is easier to close down for an event than several blocks of city streets are: They get closed off for foot races or bicycle races or charitable walks all the time. Why not showcase some of the park’s history as a racing venue with a mid-summer weekend revival of the Golden Gate Road Races?
Like our previous support for a Central Park Vintage Grand Prix, I can imagine an entire series of city park or county airport road races—perhaps limited to smaller displacement racers and run with a strict “vintage spirit” rule set. Heck, look to the Detroit Grand Prix as a model for making a marvelous racing course within a city park. If Belle Isle can do it, why not Golden Gate? Why not Central Park? Why not?
Let these images be your guide. Imagine yourself for a moment on 2.7 miles of this wonderful circuit behind the wheel of a mid-fifties racer—or even spectating along JFK Drive—and tell me you don’t want this to happen?
Pretty amazing to see Beetles sharing a field with ’57 Chevys. I’m not turning up much information on the race featured in this latest clip from the George Kehler archives but seeing these big American sedans running a road circuit is something that we don’t see enough of. We’ve all seen clips of the big Jaguar Mark 2s working around Goodwood, but in the States the big cars are largely associated with NASCAR’s ovals. So seeing these big Chevys and Buicks and Fords hang the rear end out or spin in a corner is a real treat.
These images from a wonderful thread on Pasion a la Velocidad reminds me that road racing in the Americas was so much larger than we typically remember today. For every Sebring or Paramount Ranch or Bahamas Speed Week or Argentine GP, there were countless communities that closed off a few blocks and made a weekend of it.
Again, I’m struck by the beauty of these tropical racing venues. These vistas from the Circuito Cuidad Satelite la Trinidad prove that the views from the countryside surrounding Caracas, Venezuela were every bit as majestic as those from Sicily or Brescia.
See the full thread for even more photos and remembrances from the Venezuelan road racing community.
I know, I know. Another Giant’s Despair/Brynfan Tyddn post… But when Cliff uncovered this glorious clip of the 1955 running, there was no way I couldn’t share it.
Like our last look at the racing community of El Salvador, this footage from the Santa Ana races just stopped me in my tracks. We often see photographs of races with little barrier between the on-track action and the off-track spectators but this footage really demonstrates how very precarious the situation really was. It must have been incredibly nerve racking as a driver (particularly during the LeMans style starts shown here). It must have been spectacularly thrilling as a spectator, with those “lucky” few in the front rows equally stepping closer to the action and pushing back against the crowds behind that threatened to nudge you onto the track. The adrenaline must really have been coursing through the veins of these race fans.
Again, many thanks to George Kehler for providing this footage, shot by Dr. Carlos Alvarez when he was just a young teenager. Keep a sharp eye peeled for Pedro Rodriguez in the red green #24 Austin-Healey 100M (he DNFed with ignition problems). Ricardo was also in the race in an OSCA. The day was won by Mauricio Miranda in the #42 Jaguar D-type with 2nd going to Manfredo Schmid in the Mercedes-Benz.
Keep on digging those film cans out of the attics, people. We’d love to share them with readers.
Not only did Del point out his #85FP MGA that ran in the F-Production race in the photos that William Goldman shot of the 1958 Put In Bay Road Races (that’s him with the front-row view of the crash into someone’s front tree), he sweetened the deal by sending along his photos from the event. Thanks, Del!
Over on the Angola Off Road forums, commenter Kadypress has been uploading his collection of photos and news clippings from several of the Grande Prémios de Angola of the early-mid 60s. It’s fantastic to see the Ferrari LMs and Porsche 904s and the occasional older machine on the streets of Luanda with the palm fronds whipping in a stiff coastal wind. These tropical settings make these amazing machines seem all the more exotic.
Willy Mairesse won the day completing 100 laps of the Circuito da Fortaleza street circuit in the Equipe National Belge Ferrari 250LM in 2 hours 31 minutes. Gerhard Koch took the GT class in his own privateer Porsche 904.
Giant’s Despair is a frequent favoritehere, and these program covers don’t do anything to dispel that affinity. More fantastic program covers and handbills at The Motor Racing Programme Covers project.
I like the floating apostrophe in these—like the committee couldn’t decide if it was one giant despairing, or the despair of many giants or there was no possession at all.
I’m through complaining about corporate sponsor logos all over the cars; I know I’ve lost that fight. But can we at least get them off of the posters and program covers? I want to hang a poster of a Grand Prix I attended, not a poster of a business software company logo. These program covers all benefit from not having a SAP or Emirates Airlines or UBS logo on them.
An amazing set of images shot in 1914 by photographer J.R. Eike of the St. Louis Motordrome board track and publicity shots of some of the racers. These scans are pulled from the original glass plate negatives, which languished for years in the garage of a relative of the photographer and were very nearly discarded before being rescued by collector Tom Kempland.
The photographer’s notes describe the St. Louis boardtrack as a portable Motordrome, but it sure looks like it has some permanence in these shots. I don’t find any record of the track being moved. Usually ‘Motordrome’ refers to a smaller track that was something between the larger boardtracks and the sideshow “walls of death”; although I have seen early reports of mile-long boardtracks referred to as Motordromes as well.
Even without the ‘wall of death’ moniker, this boardtrack had a bit of notoriety amongst racers of the era as well. Boardtracks were known for their steep bankings—some as much as 68°—but unlike the more gently transitioning tracks, St. Louis’s track was referred to as a “pie tin” because of it’s abrupt transition from a gentle 15° banking to the steeper edges.
I can only imagine the terrifying prospect of making that transition up to the wall of the track. Just performing the feat on it’s own seems like a courageous act. Now imagine doing it in the thick of battle with a dozen other racers operating without brakes in a furious clamor to the front of the pack. There was a fine line indeed between motorsport and bloodsport.
The structure itself was remarkable. Just look at the photo of the steep bowl waiting to be surrounded by eager fans. The lamp posts are interesting as well, not only as an obvious hazard to avoid on the infield, but the number of lights make me wonder if the track hosted night racing. I’ve never read of nighttime board track races, but it seems somehow even more perilous. What a thrill!