This sequence of images of a Porsche 718 RSK going shiny side down is the kind of thing we don’t often see. Not because there weren’t horrific crashes in the era—quite the opposite—but because there simply wasn’t the kind of camera coverage we’ve come to expect today. Even the most popular events had spotty photographic coverage, nevermind film. The only reason we can see these harrowing sequence of photos from Spa today is that this event was being shot for the 1960 film L’ennemi dans l’ombre. Take special note of the last photo. Can you believe that this driver just stood up and dusted himself off after this series of acrobatics?
More commentary on the film and this photo sequence on the Internet Movie Cars Database. From that discussion, a commenter named Dodo seems to have identified the race as the May 3, 1959 running of the Grand Prix de Spa, where Christian Heins crashed one of the three RSKs entered. Another RSK piloted by Carel Godin de Beaufort went on to win.
Yes, it’s a replica. I still think it would be an absolute blast. Maybe even more fun than tooling around in traffic with the real thing. With the price these things are fetching, I’d be too afraid to muster the ability to just have fun.
Ever since we featured some marvelous video of another 917 replica mixing it up with minivans on public roads, I’ve hoped to see more madmen enjoying this luscious form amidst the sea of jellybean-shaped modern cars on the highway. And here, finally, is another example. Shot for an article in Austria’s Auto Revue, naturally the Vienna Ring Road offers perfect scenery for this replica of the Helmut Marko/Gijs van Lennep piloted machine that won the 1971 Le Mans for Martini. I cannot think of a better location. Wunderbar!
Click on over to Auto Revue for more (Google Translate is your friend) and more photos.
This is what it looks like when a 1973 Porsche 917/30 Can-Am Spyder sells for $4.4Million (inclusive of buyer’s premium). Gooding’s sale of the Drendel Family Collection as part of this year’s Amelia Island auction had some marvelous Porsches, with several ex-Martini team cars, a 935, 962, and many other exotic Porsche racing models.
917/30-004 was to be Mark Donohue’s 1974 car, but rule changes delayed and ultimately halted construction for the Can-Am series. The car was completed and sold to Australian Porsche importer, Alan Hamilton, who displayed the car in her plain white livery in his Melbourne showroom. Porsche reacquired the car in 1991 and restored her in the 1973 Can-Am championship winning Penske-Sunoco livery she wears today.
Just sit back and take in these amazing statements from the lot detail page: The Most Powerful Road-Racing Car Ever Built An Undisputed Masterpiece of Automotive Engineering One of Only Six Examples Built Sold New to Australian Porsche Importer Alan Hamilton Meticulously Restored in Penske Racing’s 1973 Sunoco Livery Rennsport Reunion, AvD Oldtimer Grand Prix and Monterey Historics Participant Featured Prominently in Pete Lyons’ Can-Am Cars in Detail Eligible for Leading Historic Races and Porsche Gatherings The Ultimate Evolution of the Porsche 917
Some of these things sound like hyperbole, until you realize they’re mostly true.
Rumor has it that she ended up in Seinfeld’s collection.
There are few teams more iconic and fondly remembered that Porsche’s works effort at the 1970 Targa Florio. Most of that imagery and most of those remembrances, however, are of the winning 908/3 of Jo Siffert and Brian Redman. Surely, #12 has earned her place in motorsport’s hall of heroes, but let’s not forget Vic Elford’s machine currently on offer from the Southern California sports and racing broker Tillack. Chassis 007 was no also-ran. She qualified second for the 1970 Targa. And while she may not wear the Gulf livery that her teammates did, she is no less beautiful; some would say even more so.
I adore the 908 Spyder. If you look at Porsche’s endurance racers through the era, they all make a pretty straight line right up to the 917. The 906, 910, 907 lineage represents a fairly consistent evolution of design. You can even add the 908/2 to that lineup. All of them pointing right at what would become of Porsche’s endurance racing efforts. The 908/3 Spyder stands out as a design oddity for the marque. The boxy little go-kart of a machine is no less beautiful than the sleek lines of the other closed-top endurance racers from Stuttgart, but there’s something of a rebel in her contours and stance. Which is, of course, what I love about her.
This car had some longevity as well, after an update to her bodywork and livery, she competed—and took 3rd—at the 1971 Nurburgring 1000km. Now she’s been lovingly taken back to her 1970 Targa Florio livery and bodywork as part of a 2000 restoration by Moorespeed Ron Greuner at MORSPEED (the restoration workshop is now a part of Jerry Woods Enterprises). (Editor’s Note: Thanks to David, who commented below correcting me on this restoration attribution. I have reached out to Tillack for confirmation on the restoration history). I think it a good decision. The Martini livery she wore in 1971 was all well and good, but there’s something about these sunburst stripes that really does it for me. I can even look past the Christmas colors, which isn’t easy.
I can’t imagine someone wanting more from a racing machine than this 908/3 has to offer. Go pick it up; call up Jerry and have him meet you at Laguna Seca in his #12; and get to the business of recreating the 1970 Targa Florio.
Also, give me a ride. More photos and details at Tillack’s site.
Sadly, 1970 wasn’t the year for Jo Siffert and Brian Redman. After taking pole, a drop in oil pressure on the 22nd lap forced the Porsche 908/3 they shared out of contention. But damn if they didn’t look good doing it.
The late 60’s were a fascinating time for racing. I think I’m most drawn to the era because—for better or for worse—it was such a transformative period. Perhaps nowhere was this more true than in Porsche’s Le Mans pits. We were, after all, on the verge of a ridiculous procession of Porsche Le Mans wins throughout the 70’s and 80’s.
But look at this photo from the Porsche garages in 1969. The boys from Stuttgart had their hands full with the early 917s and the holdout 908s. These were state-of-the-art machines from a racing workshop that was starting to share more with the aviation industry of the time than the auto industry.
But look at these tools! My grandfather’s mower repair shop was better equipped than this. No pneumatics. No carefully sorted trays of perfectly polished stainless. There’s no apparent sorting of the wrenches by size. Hell, the sockets are just laying out! It’s just a pile of mismatched tools on an old plank of wood.
It’s part of why I love this transitional time so much. In many ways, it was old dogs with new tricks. Fresh technology and traditional skills. New engineering by old shop-hands. I’m sure, like always, I’m romanticizing things too much but this image strikes such a chord with me about the era. And it doesn’t even have a car in it.
Also, what I wouldn’t do for one of these jackets.
Clothing entrepreneur and car guy par excellence Magnus Walker has the early Porsche 911 bug. Bad. Real Bad. Thankfully, he’s created a pair of threads on the Early 911S Registry and on Pelican Parts as a sort of support group for the rest of us afflicted with this dreaded obsession to help him through it. If you’re a fan of early 911s—and why wouldn’t you be?—head on over to boththreads and marvel in the glory.
Edit: Hmm.. it looks like the video has been pulled from Vimeo. Alas. I’m leaving the include here in case it resurfaces.
Edit 2: The video is back online! Re-embedded for your viewing driving pleasure.
When I started The Chicane, it was mainly as an outlet for all of the vintage racing research I was doing. A way to do something productive with all the hours I’d spend Googling obscure racing drivers or collecting images of favorite racing machines. What I didn’t count on, though, was how much I would enjoy the commentary and conversations that arise in the comments section of many of the posts. I’m consistently delighted when a post will prompt someone who raced in the discussed event; or owned the discussed car; or had photos from a discussed race meeting; will comment on a post and takes the conversation in a new, thrilling direction.
A few weeks ago, I wrote a post about a set of photos that reader Brian Goldman sent in of the Put-in-Bay races. The comments, though, are why I love the post. Several of the racers checked in or enquired about particular cars. One of whom, Edward Eichenlaub, was looking for any photos that might include his own winning run at that event. Only a short time later, Manley Ford delivered—emailing me the photo you see above of Ed’s victory.
When I see Chicane readers connecting and fueling each other’s love for vintage racing, I… I don’t know how to describe it… It just makes it all seem so much more worth doing. Thank you all for that.
We don’t often think of the rallying successes of the Porsche 356. Maybe we should reconsider the little beauty’s abilities off the tarmac. After all, if scores (hundreds?) of Beetles can run the Baja, then certainly its cousin can, and did, hold her own.
