Porsche’s 1972 LeMans garages were a buzzing environment with cars being tuned and prepared, and busy 1970s technicians with 1970s hair. Porsche’s star was bright indeed coming off of two straight years of wins and the factory was shining.
Wait a second. This doesn’t look like the workshop of a winning endurance racing team. These are the garages of the rag-tag up-and-comers in over their heads playing on a stage too big for them. These are the facilities of underdogs. I have been in lone racers’ shops that were better equipped than this.
Just look at this. This could be your garage. There’s no precision instruments here; not even a flashy (albeit utilitarian) immense tool chest larger than a kitchen counter. Just shove that table out of the way, maybe stack the chairs on it to clear up some floor room. Pull that 55 gallon drum over here so I can pop the engine up on it. Let’s start turning some wrenches.
This. This right here is why I love vintage racing. Looking at these guys, you almost get the sense that anyone could do this. That you could hatch a scheme to race in next year’s LeMans and June would roll around and you’d be there. And this is Porsche we’re talking about. Repeat this for Cooper Garages (or Lotus.. or BRM…) heading into Formula 1 and you see that the pinnacle of the sport in every corner was more likely to be filled with dedicated hot-rodders than aerospace engineers.
via Le Container
Tag: Endurance
I particularly enjoy the atmosphere and anticipation in the first half of this video piece. You know that my blood gets pumping seeing these classic endurance racers on their home turf, so that really says something.
I love seeing the drivers rehearsing their leap into the car. You can almost taste their excitement that they’re actually going to do a LeMans start. They’re actually going to run across the road and fly into the pilot’s seat; reaching for the shifter and the ignition and the clutch, while somehow maneuvering into their safety belts with a HANS attached. I hope that the LeMans Classic always preserves the running start—even if only symbolically.
It’s a shame that the original patron and pilot who owned these armbands aren’t identified. Whoever they were, I’m a little surprised that the driver’s identification is in better shape than the sponsor’s. I would imagine that 1,910 miles of Mexican road dust would shred that piece of fabric during the race, but here it is looking damned good 60 years later. (The auction lists it as a “sponsor” armband, but I’ve also seen “patrocinador” used to mean “team owner”.)
Buy it now at $1,995. Sounds expensive to me too, but when are you going to see another one of these—let alone two of them?
I don’t know that the 1970 running of the LeMans 24 Hours race is particularly pivotal for the public at large, but that particular running is just so cemented in my mind. I’m sure the documentation of it in the form of McQueen’s LeMans is the key reason. Also significant for Hans Herrmann and Richard Attwood’s victory that gave Porsche their first outright win at the race: A feat they’d repeat 15 more times and started Porsche down their road to winningest team in the event’s history.
These images from Flickr user ZANTAFIO56 only serve to further add to the importance and beauty of the race in my mind. He seems to have been all over the track, with some marvelous shots from several corners of La Sarthe and the pits as well. More of Zantafio56’s shots at his flickr set. Fantastic!
I just realized that this is my third 917-centric post in a week. I’ll take a break from her now. I promise.