The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

In the end, it is just a car. You sit with a steering wheel in your hands. You change gear by shifting a lever fore and aft, working your way across a gate while depressing the furthest to the left of the three pedals at your feet. The one in the middle makes the car stop while on the right is one to make it go. It is that simple. There are no electronic instruments, no paddles for changing gear. The steering wheel is entirely circular. In theory, anyone with a driving licence could drive a Brabham BT49.

The practice is rather different and while I will come to that shortly, just to give you an idea for now, lodge in your head that this car, a 1982 BT49D, weighs about 530kgs and is powered by a Cosworth DFV engine producing about 530bhp. That’s a nice, round 1000bhp for every tonne of car or, to put it another way, just about double the power to weight ratio of the world’s fastest road car, the 240mph McLaren F1.

That’s for later. Now I am simply sizing the car up in the pits at Donington during a test day for Thoroughbred Grand Prix competitors. The car belongs to Ian Giles who, as well as proving exceptionally relaxed out of the car and hugely quick on board, is also about the same size and shape as a conventional Grand Prix driver whereas I, sadly, am not. He has agreed to let me drive with no restrictions but seems as curious as I am to see how I am physically going to get myself on board.

Right now, however, we have another problem with which to contend. Giles’s two man crew are rather less keen to see me in the Brabham and are not shy about showing their feelings. It is made crystal clear our photographers are not welcome while replies to questions come, at best, in single syllables, usually in single words and, once or twice, not at all.

Patrese en fuego at Brabham in 1982

Patrese spitting fire round Monte Carlo

I sit out the morning watching others howl around the track, wondering what I have taken on. My colleague, Matthew Franey is having a ball in an ex-Alboreto Tyrrell 012, Bob Berridge is awesome in his Williams FW08 and when Giles drives the Brabham, I realise his claim that it will take the Craner Curves flat in sixth gear is not idle. You can hear the DFV right around the lap and not once between Redgate and the Old Hairpin does its note falter.

Mention the BT49 to its designer and, even for a man with a track record such as Gordon Murray’s, it’s clear it is a car of which he remains exceptionally proud to this day. “What I love about it is its simplicity and elegance. There is nothing in the least bit complicated on the car – it all just worked. We ended up using it for four seasons, from 1979-82.”

It may have been simple but it worked. Introduced too late in 1979 for its true effect to be felt, the next season Piquet came second only to Jones‘ Williams, claiming the first of his three titles the following year. It was finally overcome in 1982 by the turbo revolution and, then, the ban on skirts, the latter a move the BT49 felt more than perhaps any of its opponents.

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Nor did its design lack innovation. As Murray points out, “it was the first F1 car to use carbon-fibre in its tub and though it was also part aluminium, we used carbon-fibre in the car’s structure two years before McLaren.”

That, however, was not the BT49’s secret weapon, the reason which made the car the class of the F1 field and gave Brabham its first driver’s title since 1967. The ace up its elegant sleeve, says Murray, was downforce. “It just had more of it, more than any other car out there and it all came from the ground effect. We ran the car with no front wing at all and scarcely any at the back. It all came from under the car and it generated more pure downforce, I think, even than the Williams. When we had to run a flat bottom, we lost two-thirds of the downforce in an instant.”

Its engineering simplicity did, however, play a key role. “It was the most reliable car of its era. In Nelson’s championship year he never failed to finish through mechanical failure.” The books support this: fifteen starts, ten finishes, four accidents and one mechanical failure when his engine blew at Monza on the last lap relegating him to sixth.

The elegance and simplicity Murray refers to is not simply beneath the skin. To my eyes, the Lotus 79 is the only one of its contemporaries with a claim to greater beauty. It’s at its best seen from dead head-on, where the downward curve of its gently sloping side pods have elements of Concorde’s wing profile. The nose sharpens to a defiant point, there is nothing to interfere with the airflow over the body save the mirrors and driver’s head while the Parmalat livery is one of the smartest of all.

Beautiful, however, does not mean big in this case. The BT49 was the first GP car Murray had designed which was unable to accommodate his six foot four frame. “Our big drivers like Watson had all left the team so I chopped three or four inches.out of the monocoque. How on earth did you get in?”

Riccardo Patrese Brabham 1982 Monaco GP Monte Carlo

Simplicity was key in Murray’s design – as well as huge downforce

Grand Prix Photo

By removing the seat and bodywork that’s how. The elegant body is, in fact, all one panel and lifts off easily. I could then just about cram myself into the tub, rear seat-belt mounting points dug deep into my back and strap myself in before the bodywork was replaced. If I’d had an accident or had to get out of the car in a hurry for any reason at all I would have stood no chance at all. Someone plugged in a starter and, with a whoop and a bang, eye-wateringly loud through a helmet, balaclava and ear-plugs, the Cosworth fired up.

This DFV sounds different to most hammering around the track, reflecting its extreme state of tune. It’s note is more melodic, smoother and exciting than usual. Giles cautions me never to let it run below 6000rpm, suggests I shift at 10,500rpm to give myself a little room for error (he takes it to 11,200rpm) and advises that it only really gets going above 8500rpm.

From the archive

The first couple of laps were easy enough. The Hewland six speed box is one of the best I’ve used, the tyres were already warm and my only interest was making sure I found my way around the track without getting in anyone’s way. Two thoughts occurred: first, it was only with the greatest effort that I could lift my right foot sufficiently for it to disengage from the accelerator and move across to the brake and, secondly, I was not sure I had ever been more uncomfortable in my life.

What I had hoped would be one of the great experiences was fast turning into a misery and much as I would like to blame anyone else, the real reason was me. I simply did not fit this car and should have given up the struggle, saving myself a great deal of pain and making the day of at least two people back in the pits.

It was only the knowledge that the experience would remain long after the bruises had faded that kept me out there. On lap three, I started to drive the Brabham rather faster and, as the rev-counter swept past 8500rpm, so all thoughts of how I had got myself into this situation in the first place vanished. Funnily enough, it didn’t seem to hurt any more either.

Suddenly I was busy, more busy than I remember ever being in a car. In this car, there are no straights as such. Straights are where you relax, change gear every so often, check instruments and think about where the traffic is, how many laps remain and such like; straights are called straights because they are where you straighten up those affairs left untended while your concentration is required in the corners.

7 1982 Monaco GP Brabham Nelson Piquet

Murray talks to Piquet during 1982

Grand Prix Photo

Not in this car; coming out of Coppice in third (I expect the truly brave use at least fourth) the usually long stretch to the start of the Melbourne loop seemed to have gone missing, absorbed into a frenzy of gearshifts, tachometer needle flicking into five figures time and again and, more than anything else, utter determination to arrive in the braking area in good shape to lose three gears and 100mph in time to angle into the Esses. I was surprised to feel the Brabham under and over-steer in the hairpins that led back to the pit-straight, feeling restless but not uncomfortable on departure from the Melbourne hairpin, and using every inch of track at Goddard, simply to get around the corner. Giles had noticed as much when he was driving and suggested it probably had more to do with a quirky differential than anything I might be doing. In the faster corners, despite no longer boasting the skirts it once used to such effect, I got nowhere near to the limit.

From the archive

I returned the Brabham to its owner and pulled up outside the pit and thought back to this car’s finest hour. It coincided with one of Grand Prix racing’s darkest. The 1982 Canadian GP will only ever be remembered for the death of Riccardo Paletti, coming scarcely a month after the loss of Gilles Villeneuve. It marked a water-shed in attitudes to on-track loss of life and, to date, there have been just three deaths in F1, one in testing, one in practice and one during a race.

Brabham had used a mix of DFV and BMW turbo power all season, the latter having hitherto finished just one race to date. Piquet had a 1.5-litre BT50, Patrese this BT49D. Nelson led from lap nine to win, Riccardo running home to an unchallenged second. It was BMW’s first Grand Prix win and, as it transpired, Brabham’s final 1-2.

Driving it was an experience you only appreciate once it’s over. On the track, there was simply too much to do to enjoy it at the time; if you knock back a drink without pausing for breath, you only taste it once it’s gone down; so it proved with the Brabham. Sitting in the pit, waiting for the bodywork to be removed to allow my escape, I was both aghast and relieved the experience was behind me. Driving back to London, I started to appreciate the extraordinary privilege that had been afforded me and the generosity shown to and trust placed in me by its owner. Some months later, I now know this day that had started so badly will be one I will cherish for years to come. All in all, I would not have missed it for anything.

Our sincere thanks go to Ian Giles for trusting us with his car and to Thoroughbred Grand Prix (01451 810855) for providing the track time.

Nelson Piquet Brabham 1982 Canadian GP Montreal

Piquet led Patrese home for a brilliant 1-2 at Montreal in ’82 – but it came amidst tragedy

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Motor Sport F1 track tests

Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Okay, so the contract for 1994 may not be in the post, but when I got the chance to drive the championship-winning Williams I really wanted to make a good impression. After my first five laps, I rolled to a halt and lifted my visor. The guys came running up to me, and I was desperately searching for something subtle to tell them. When you’ve had ear plugs in, and a lot of noise around you, you raise your voice a little, and the only thing I could come out with was what you might politely call a Dutch version of ‘Oh dear! I couldn’t think of anything else to say. They dissolved into laughter. . .

As soon as I found out about the test, I phoned up Henny Vollenberg at Vortex and said, ‘I’m driving the Williams, can you give me some laps?’ I did about 17 laps in Henny’s F3000 Reynard at Nogaro. More than anything, I wanted to feel its power so that I wouldn’t be too amazed when I drove the F1 car. It didn’t work; I was still astonished! The first time you go into a second-gear corner and you floor it, you really don’t know what’s happened. The thing just takes off. It’s like hitting the eject button.

Before I went out, Damon Hill said: ‘Allard, just be careful.’ Johnny Herbert said, ‘Don’t worry, there’s plenty of grip, plenty of power, so you’ll be all right.’ David Coulthard gave me some really good advice, and we went round and had a look at what Derek Daly was doing in his stint. I’d had quite a long chat with Jan Lammers too, and everybody at Williams and Renault was very supportive. They said, ‘Don’t worry about it. We’re not here to break any records, or to prove anything, just to have a good time.’ Mind you, not everybody was as supportive as Johnny. He said, ‘Go out there, and when you get to a corner it’s going to be phenomenal. Don’t worry, buddy, just nail it!’ As I drove off, Williams’ PR star Annie Bradshaw looked a bit worried . . .

Once you’re in the car, there is actually a surprising amount of room. It’s very comfortable: you can move your legs around – I was wearing kneepads because you don’t want to bang against the sides of the bulkhead and there’s enough room to move your arms. There is more room than in a Formula Three car.

Allard Kalff with Williams FW15C steering wheel

Kalff gets to grips with the wheel

I had a fitting in Riccardo Patrese’s seat from last year, and there was plenty of room in that too, so perhaps I’m not as fat as I thought I was. I took the seat and put it in the car we were going to use, and we did up the belts. The guys said, ‘Alright, is that comfortable then?’ I said, ‘Yes, brilliant,’ and I was thinking I’d get out, have a cup of coffee and have another half hour to get nervous, because we were just making sure that I fitted all right. Suddenly they gave me the helmet, and the next thing I knew I was being pushed out of the garage, started, and was on the main straight! Well done boys.

I wasn’t that worried about adapting to a semi-automatic gearchange although I admit I had taken one of the steering wheels for lunch and played with it under the table! It sounds cocky, but I didn’t actually find it confusing at all. After two corners it came so naturally that it was amazing. In the whole 10 laps I didn’t once feel like I had to go for a gearlever. I spent more time thinking, ‘Do I change with my middle finger, or index finger?’ than I did actually worrying about the system itself.

It’s semi-automatic, which means you can also be on the brakes or full on the power. To change gear you use a lever, although it feels like a button because it’s very light. You don’t have to pull it with the whole hand or anything, it’s literally a one finger job. To change up you pull towards you, to change down you pull towards you with the other hand.

If you use the software for an automatic downchange or upchange, it will change at the optimum point, although Damon said it’s more fun without it. There is also a programme where it will do all the gearchanges by itself! I’m not sure I would like to have it all done for me.

Allard Kalff in Williams FW15C F1 car

Even with the prior benefit of F3000 experience to get used to real power, the Williams-Renault’s performance was truly astonishing

What struck me most about the gearbox was that after Signes you’ve got a double right-hander where you’re braking in the corner and you’ve got to change down. You’re hard on the brakes and the deceleration is phenomenal yet you just pull with your index finger, one click, and it changes down a gear and the car doesn’t even move.

The changes are very smooth. Coming out of the slow corners, within 100 metres you have changed up from second to third and third to fourth. In maybe 1.8 seconds you’ve gone through two gears. If the drivers are going to do that manually, I feel sorry for them. They must be losing quite a lot of time into the bargain. The computer will take away the throttle, change gear, and apply the power again in about a millisecond!

There are three lights on the dashboard, and the car accelerates so fast that when the second light is on you have to change gear, and when the third is on you’re on the limiter. Going from second to third, as soon as the second light was on you were calling for the gear but would actually touch the limiter because the engine was revving so fast. (Around 240 revolutions of the crankshaft, rods and pistons every second!) If you do that manually, you are definitely losing time.

“You can just turn it in and nail it because the traction control will take over”

After a while you get so used to the button that you are actually anticipating the change; you know you’re going to go up, so you might as well get the finger in position instead of having to get it stretched and behind the lever at the last moment. It’s remarkable that so soon you are concentrating on shortening that time as well.

You still use the clutch to drive away. In fact you only use it to drive away. For the remainder of the time, the left foot is on the foot rest. You’re not even allowed to use the clutch on the circuit. They made these things so very clear to me. . . The first couple of laps I just pressed very hard against the footrest, after that it was fairly natural.

Ricard was the first time I’ve driven anything with traction control. Watching Derek Daly go round in the morning, he would feed the power in like he always used to do when he was racing in F1, IndyCar and IMSA. I was watching with Coulthard, and he said, ‘Allard, don’t do that. You can just turn it in and nail it because the traction control will take over.’ I tried that, and it literally does. Because of it, there wasn’t any oversteer on the entry to a corner. There probably would be if you took wing off (we were running a lot) and a little bit of traction control out because you can see on television that they do slide but the car being set as it was, you just pointed it at the apex, gave it full throttle, and it would go to the outside but it wouldn’t break away. You just take off. You could really feel the traction control working. The funny thing is, you can hear the misfire but you’re still ejected horizontally!

I knew Ricard was a fairly smooth place, but I didn’t know they’d taken out all the bumps. The active ride was very, very good. You could actually feel the suspension move. Amazing.

I suppose if the active’s not working properly, it’s just as hard to drive as a passive car. But this was working properly, and it gave a very smooth ride. Even when you get on to the kerbs you don’t notice them.

David Coulthard talks to Allard Kalff in cockpit of Williams FW15C F1 car

Friendly advice from Coulthard

The car gave me so much confidence that I wondered where the limits actually were. For someone who has never driven a passive car, it could well be a little dangerous because it gives so much confidence. It’s a little like driving a four-wheel drive car in the snow, where you can get away with murder. Until it goes wrong . . .

The Williams gives you so much confidence, until you step over the line, and then you must be in deep trouble. The good news is that as a World Championship-winning car it probably has a fairly big window in which it would work. When David went round in the morning the team was making small changes; not that big, but it seemed to please him whatever they were doing. I would say it’s positive to changes, rather than sensitive to them. You don’t want a car which will only work on a very tight line, because it will fall off the line too easily.

“You hit those brakes and your eyeballs come out of your head!”

You have to be committed to get the best not only from the active, but the whole car. You have to have the tyres up to temperature, the brakes up to temperature. You only get that if you’re going in fully committed. Nigel Mansell and Damon Hill are the same in that they really had the confidence in the car. They could drive it so well because they knew what it would be able to do.

Ricard was my first time with carbon brakes too. You hit those brakes and your eyeballs come out of your head! It is unreal, especially on the pit straight. There you have a very slow right-hander at the end, you’re coming down from something like 270kph to nearer 120, and you’re saying to yourself, ‘You’ve got to brake now . . . ‘You know it has mega stopping power, but you still actually hit the brakes about 30 yards too early. The first time you do that you nearly come to a complete standstill. Someone said the FW15C goes from zero to 200 clicks, and back to zero, in something silly like five seconds. I think under braking it was like 3.9G, which I think is quite a lot. Unbelievable.

You feel the ABS because the car stops, but I didn’t feel it in the pedal as you would in a normal road car. I didn’t hear it, and didn’t feel it, but perhaps that’s the way it should be: I don’t know it’s there, but thank you very much!

The car also has servo brakes, so you don’t even have to push the pedal very much. In a way, all these things make the FW15C less physically demanding to drive. Although the g loads are still very high, and when you’re loaded up on high downforce the steering will be fairly heavy, things like not having to press the brake pedal with Heaven knows how many millions of pounds, make it easier to drive.

Of course, I did have my neck strap on, and I did make sure that under acceleration I rested my head against the headrest! But I got out after 10 laps and thought, ‘This is okay, maybe I could do another 10 or another 20.’ Or at least I did until I woke up the next morning! The muscles at the front of my neck, which took the load under acceleration, were very sore. But not as sore as my neck would have been if I hadn’t worn the strap: I didn’t worry what people would think; I didn’t know what to expect. I thought it was better to put it on and have everybody laugh about it, than not put it on and find out that my head would fall off.

Where you really notice the g force is when you go round the horseshoe, where you’re turning in third gear and that neck strap is being loaded to its maximum. Then you accelerate, and your head is not only being pulled to one side, it’s being tugged back at a funny angle as well. That is a definite killer.

The strange logic of downforce was something I was very conscious of. Johnny told me, ‘Whatever you do, don’t lift off in the middle of the corner, because you’ll take away some of the downforce.’ The faster you go, the more stable it is up until the point where you step over the line; I don’t believe I got close to this line. The team had promised me all sorts of things if I shunted it, none of them nice!

Going quicker is funny, because you get to the point where you’re not sure where you should go faster, because the car feels unstable. But when you actually do go faster, it makes it more stable. You have to get over something of a mental block.

I keep saying things are fabulous and amazing, but one thing struck me above all: le moteur, c’est incroyable! It was incredibly quick, incredibly powerful, and incredibly smooth. You could go fairly low on revs and it would still accelerate like a bullet. It was revving to 14,000 plus. How much plus, you ask? Unfortunately, we can’t tell you that, but the plus was plenty enough for me. . .

I was talking to Jos Verstappen after his first run in a Formula One car, and he said you can’t believe a car can actually accelerate that quick. I thought of him when I first accelerated out of a corner in the Williams. That was just incredible. The sheer acceleration in second, third and fourth gears is unreal. It is absolutely mind-boggling. You try to make comparisons beforehand, think what would it be like: you’re taking off in an aeroplane and you think, ‘If I do this by two, will that come close?’ You try to visualise that acceleration. But then the first time you actually floor it, you know that whatever you had come up with, it would have been nowhere near what the feeling actually is.

The good thing is that although the acceleration is phenomenal, it’s all very smooth. The car’s very driveable. It didn’t particularly surprise me; it was more a relief that it wasn’t like a beast trying to control a beast. If you get into even a road car and go halfway round a roundabout and floor it, you can find out it’s a beast and you’re struggling to keep it on the black stuff. You think that is quick. With the Williams you’re getting into something which is probably four times as quick, yet probably 20 times easier to control!

It’s 800 brake horsepower, 550 kilos, and it just takes off, but still inspires so much confidence that you have no fear of getting to a corner, giving it full throttle, and finding that it does something vicious.

Doing 299kph down the straight and having to turn into a corner wasn’t really a scenario I was sure about. One of the most important things with this car is that you’re concentrated a thousand per cent all the time. In the end the car makes sure you won’t get into a false sense of security but because it is so quick, and because it gives you confidence – it’s very positive, when you touch the brakes it actually stops, and when you turn the wheel it goes left or right, and when you touch the throttle it moves forward – you have to be with the programme every millionth of a second. If you’re not, you’ll pretty soon be ejected from the programme.

There was a switch for high or low revs, which I was allowed to use on my second run. I don’t know how many more revs I gained because you change gear on the lights, and as soon as you switch the button the lights will change accordingly.

When I first sat in the cockpit, I thought ‘Heck, all these knobs and buttons,’ but while you might be searching for them for a couple of runs, I reckon you would actually get used to them pretty soon.

It’s a little bit like an aeroplane cockpit with all the instrumentation. That includes tyre puncture, gearbox failure, and active failure lights. Yes, they really do work. I did a photo shoot after my run, and was driving round slowly on an old set of rubber when the tyre warning light came on. It senses the temperature in the tyres on the left and right, and if they differ more than the norm should be, the light immediately comes on. I thought that was very impressive.

There were four buttons on the steering wheel: the ‘levers’ for automatic upshift and downshift, an all-stop button, and one for low drag. They can use that on the straights. As I understand it, it raises the car and breaks the undercar aerodynamics to make them less effective, so the car is not sucked to the ground as hard as it is around the corners. That way you are able to move quicker through the air because there’s less drag. I think all the active cars have such a system, and when you watch the onboard camera you can see the drivers pressing the button. The classic one is Schumacher, who seems to press it on just about every straight he can!

Then, of course, there are the normal radio knobs, ignition switches and switches to activate the hydraulic system for the gearbox and suspension. There are more knobs to tweak the engine, lean off the mixture. On the right-hand side of the cockpit, actually under your right elbow, there are knobs you can turn to change the active. We weren’t allowed to touch them, but I assume they change the characteristics of the car just slightly. If you get different conditions during a race, you will be able to fine tune the active a little bit.

Like everybody else, I’ve heard and read the comments suggesting that because of all the technology the cars can effectively drive themselves. The way I see it is that you’re talking about going round say a double left or right-hand corner where you’ve got to brake, change down a gear, accelerate, brake, change down again and accelerate, and it’s probably easier to do it in this car than one which doesn’t have those automatic or semiautomatic capabilities.

You could very easily think that it detracts from the driver, but because you’ve got all those things you can go round that corner faster. You’ve still got to do that. I think people are too quick to say that driving a Formula One car is now so easy that a monkey could win. That is definitely not the case; you still have to drive it, steer left and right, and brake at the right point. It will take away some of the physical stuff, very definitely, and the drivers will probably say it will take away an element of the fun. But you must never forget that part of that fun is going round the corner as fast as you can.

You can definitely go round faster than if you have to do a lot of things manually. But if you are going faster, it all happens faster, so your brain has got to be in top gear to handle that. Could a monkey drive the car? Maybe yes. But the monkey won’t be able to win a Grand Prix. . .

Before the test I talked about it and people said, ‘Ah well, it’s an amazing car and it does everything very well.’ When you actually get in it, you expect ‘very good’ to be very good. But I never envisaged ‘very good’ to be this good.

It would be understatement to say I enjoyed it immensely. It was an amazing experience and, yes, I would like to do it again. I’ve been looking at my fax machine a lot lately! A big thank you to all the Williams people, and everyone at Williams-Renault for making this happen.

I realise now just why top drivers such as Alain or Damon are amazing. They are going at a speed that is mind-blowingly fast, they’ve got to do the same thing every lap, at those speeds, and under those g loads, they have to do the same things under very difficult circumstances. Not only do they have to do every little thing right, they also have to realise what they’re doing and tell the engineers what the car is doing. And they have to do all that while racing other competitors. That is a real feat. To be able to do all this and win, you must be an outstanding racing driver.

All of us who drove the car – myself, Derek Daly, Jochen Mass – stalled the car. Only my fellow Eurosport commentator John Watson didn’t, but I must say that after a couple of times, once you’ve got the feel, it’s a very smooth and fairly easy getaway. David did a 1 m 5.5s while warming the car up for us. Jochen did I m 6.6s, I did 1 m 7.63s, Wattle 1 m 7.9s and Derek 1 m 8.7s.

I ‘phoned Frank as soon as I got out of the car, and said, ‘Thank you very much.’ He said, ‘Allard, the pleasure was mine.’ I said, ‘No Frank, it was mine. . .

Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

The 1972 World Sportscar Championship was a Ferrari assertion of dominance, with the Italian team winning a majority of rounds – including here at a sodden Monza 1000Kms. Jenks hated this race. Ferrari opposition pulled out en masse mostly to concentrate on Le Mans; Jacky Ickx and Clay Regazzoni won: “If the organisers had sat down and wept after it was all over no one would have blamed them,” remarked a drenched DSJ.

Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

1970 Plymouth Superbird

Sold by Mecum auctions, £227,580
With its distinctive nose and towering rear wing, the Plymouth Superbird was not a car for the shy – especially when painted in colours such as Lemon Twist. Around 1920 Superbirds were built in order to homologate the regular Plymouth Road Runner for NASCAR racing, with each getting a souped-up engine to match its outlandish bodywork plus a special ‘beep-beep’ horn based on Road Runner of Looney Tunes fame. This was one of 308 examples produced to V-code specification and featured a 7.2-litre, 375bhp engine. It was among 13 cars sold by Texas-based collector Scott Lougheed.


2002 Mercedes-Benz C32 AMG

2002 Mercedes-Benz C32 AMG

Sold by Anglia Car Auctions, £3132
With its 350bhp engine and 155mph top speed, this original, AMG-tuned car represented a serious alternative to BMW’s E46 M3. It was probably worth the money just for that AMG growl.


1964 Alfa Romeo Giulia ti super

1964 Alfa Romeo Giulia ti super

Sold by Bonhams, £21,850
FIA Historic Touring Car Challenge fans might recognise this as the racer campaigned by CKL’s Ben Shuckburgh. Bought by a new owner two years ago it had since seen little use.


1999 Rover Mini Cooper s Sport 5

1999 Rover Mini Cooper s Sport 5

Sold by Manor Park Classics, £27,025
This Mini might look like it was modded by a talented enthusiast, but it was actually number nine of just 25 factory-sanctioned Cooper S specials built by John Cooper Garages.


1978 Porsche 911 Turbo

1978 Porsche 911 Turbo

Sold by Bonhams, £149,500
This was one of few RHD 911s with full, factory Martini trim – that means a red, white and blue interior as well as body stripes. Restored in 2005, it was used for promotional purposes by Porsche GB.


1988 Honda VFR750R RC30

1988 Honda VFR750R RC30 

Sold by Bonhams, £59,800
Any RC30 is desirable – but this was the one used by Carl Fogarty to win the TT F1 world title in 1988 and ’89. Fogarty then sold the bike to collector Dale Winfield, from whose estate it was offered.


1972 Alfa Romeo Montreal

1972 Alfa Romeo Montreal

Sold by Bonhams, £36,800
Despite its exotic looks and Italian pedigree, Alfa’s Montreal has failed to achieve cult following – meaning prices have remained relatively stable. This had been in the same ownership for 45 years.


1969-Ford-Transit

1969 Ford Transit camper van

Sold by H&H, £11,250
This Transit camper was restored to show-winning standard – complete with a paint job that made it the perfect support vehicle for a Lotus Cortina race car. An impressive array of auxiliary gauges and some exquisite wooden cabinetry were among its bespoke features.


Forthcoming sale highlights

  • Barons, Marchwood, Southampton, June 14
    Following its acquisition at the start of the year by Manor Park Classics, Barons has upped the regularity of its sales, which are now held on the second Saturday of each month. The pairing promises to create a significant force in the market, not least since it is offering some of the lowest fees to both buyers and sellers. Viewing for this sale begins on June 7.
  • Dore & Rees, Thruxton, Hampshire, June 21
    This year’s Thruxton Retro festival will offer all the usual attractions (which range from a variety of on-track events to motorcycle displays, a big top and live music) plus the new addition of an official auction. Dore & Rees from Frome has landed the task and will send an appropriate selection of classic cars and motorcycles across the block on Saturday.
  • Bonhams, ChÉserex, Switzerland, June 29
    Bonhams returns to the foot of the Jura Mountains for the sixth edition of its popular Chéserex sale. With some of the best driving roads in Europe right on the doorstep, buyers should soon see the appeal of a 2021 Ford GT which will be up for grabs with an estimate of £610,000-£660,000. Finished in Triple Black, the car has covered 93 miles from new.
  • Mecum, Kissimmee, Florida, July 9-12
    Running across thousands of lots, Mecum’s Summer Special sale promises something for everyone. Fancy a factory-built Mustang drag racer from 2012? Only 50 were built, but two are here. Other big beasts include multiple muscle cars and a host of Corvette Stingrays – with the opposite end of the automotive spectrum being represented by a 600cc Honda Acty van.
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The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

The deliciously analogue F40 – Ferrari’s 40th anniversary supercar – was a tough act to follow, but at least the Prancing Horse had a decade in which to develop something even better (in theory) to mark its half century. Enter the F50.

Although ostensibly built for the road, the Pininfarina-designed car bristled with racing technology and cutting-edge materials, with its carbon-fibre, Kevlar and Nomex honeycomb bodywork being draped around an all-new 4.7-litre V12 engine developed from the marque’s early 1990s 3.5-litre F1 V12.

1995-Ferrari-F50_engine

The 4.7-litre, normally aspirated V12 engine was derived from Ferrari’s F1 PU from the early ’90s

Jorge Guasso ©2025 Courtesy of RM Sotheby’s

1995-Ferrari-F50_bag

The removable roof requires special tools to fit – a two-hour process. It can be stowed in a road case

Jorge Guasso ©2025 Courtesy of RM Sotheby’s

1995-Ferrari-F50_interior

The first person to occupy this seat was fashion designer Ralph Lauren

Jorge Guasso ©2025 Courtesy of RM Sotheby’s

With more than 500bhp on tap and a relatively light 1230kg to propel, the F50 was capable of posting a then-remarkable 0-60mph time of just 3.6sec and howling on to display a top speed of more than 200mph on its high-tech LCD dashboard.

Although it cost a cool £350,000 when new, wealthy Ferraristi who could see the F50’s investment potential couldn’t move fast enough to place deposits on the 349 cars slated to be built – and now, as the estimate for this example demonstrates, values have multiplied beyond the power of 10.

1995-Ferrari-F50_badge

Only two US specification cars were finished in eye-catching Giallo Modena paint

Jorge Guasso ©2025 Courtesy of RM Sotheby’s

1995-Ferrari-F50_gear stick

Car features quintessential gated manual gearbox

Jorge Guasso ©2025 Courtesy of RM Sotheby’s

1995-Ferrari-F50_tool bag

All original accessories, tools, book packs and paperwork have been retained

Jorge Guasso ©2025 Courtesy of RM Sotheby’s

Even more special than most F50s, this one has the distinction of having been bought new by fashion mogul Ralph Lauren – a renowned collector of cars – who kept it for eight years before it moved to the current owner in 2003.

It is among 31 Giallo Modena (Ferrari’s triple-yellow) examples built, one of only two US spec F50s in this colour, and has covered just 5400 miles from new – all of which might enable RM Sotheby’s to break the £4.1m F50 price record it set in March.

1995-Ferrari-F50_front

Ralph Lauren owned this F50 from 1995-2003

1995 Ferrari F50

On sale with RM Sotheby’s, Monterey, US, August 15. Estimate: £4.9m-£5.7m. rmsothebys.com

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The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Off to the Le Mans 24 Hours (as a spectator, we mean) and looking for a head-turning car in which to do the journey? A regular Citroen 2CV wouldn’t really do the trick, since there are thousands still plying the roads of France – but a Hoffmann 2CV Cabriolet version is a rare sight, even over there. And this one is an exceptional example.

If you’re unfamiliar with the Hoffmann, it was the brainchild of German engineer Wolfgang Hoffmann and his son Felix, who developed an ingenious parts kit which converts the regular, four-door, four-seat 2CV into a full two-seat convertible.

1982 Hoffmann 2cv Cabriolet rear

Fully retractable roof is unmarked.

Everything from the windscreen forwards remains standard Citroën, but all bodywork ‘aft’ is discarded and replaced by Hoffman’s superb quality cabriolet tub made from glass-fibre bordered by a steel framework. The kit includes two side windows, the folding soft top, a rear deck lid that gives access to an enormous load space and all the necessary screws, bolts and hinges to put it all together. The fact that the conversions really are of exceptional quality is borne out by the fact that the first 250 cars built, which were pieced together at Hoffmann’s workshops at Oberhausen in the Ruhr, sailed through Germany’s rather strict TÜV new vehicle safety tests.

The car pictured here is being sold by Denis Johnston of Waterlooville, Hampshire, who inherited it from his late brother, Barry, who had owned it for around a decade.

1982 Hoffmann 2cv Cabriolet front

Stainless steel bumpers

Denis Johnston

“My brother moved to France around 15 years ago and loved 2CVs,” explains Denis. “He went to a Citroën rally in Brittany where he watched this car being judged as best in show – and, rather impetuously, offered to buy it on the spot.”

In with the deal came a raft of brand new, OEM 2CV spares worth around £1000 that were part of the show prize. Some have since been fitted to the car, but others remain boxed and in brand new condition. The car itself is in exceptional order having covered fewer than 30,000 miles from new and has now been registered (with an age-related number) here in the UK where – despite its modifications – it should be exempt from MOT testing, road tax and the London ULEZ charge.

1982 Hoffmann 2cv Cabriolet interior

Leather seats

Denis Johnston

Hoffmann still produces the cabriolet kits (along with other 2CV enhancement parts ranging from stainless steel chassis to pick-up, shooting brake and even six-door limousine conversions) and it is thought around 1700 convertibles are on the road – at least one of which has found its way to America where it is now in the collection of celebrity car enthusiast Jay Leno.

1982 Hoffmann 2cv Cabriolet engine

600cc engine

Denis Johnston

Leno can be seen driving and heaping praise on his Hoffmann cabriolet in a video that was made during the Covid-hit 2021, in which he opines: “Any car that makes me smile is good.”

And while it may not be as valuable as a concours condition Citroën SM or a one of the marque’s flawed BX 4TC Evolution rally cars, this will certainly ensure a new owner makes an entrance at Le Mans – and would be just the job for taking a smile-filled road trip to the sun once the race has finished.

1982 Hoffmann 2cv Cabriolet

On sale with Denis Johnston, Waterlooville, Hampshire. Asking £18,000. Tel: 07798 637221


Mini taken for a ride in Monte Carlo

  • Notice anything funny about the headlights of this 1966 AUSTIN COOPER S, inset right? Well, the French did. After the works Minis finished 1-2-3 in the 1966 Monte Carlo Rally, stewards disqualified them for a headlight dipping violation. Those fiends! This car was third, driven by PADDY HOPKIRK and became the most-used works Mini of all. It’s on sale at PENDINE in Bicester for £155,000.

    1966 austin cooper s

  • In the UK there are 52% male drivers to 48% female and yet, according to a new study by CITROËN, 48% of women believe the car-buying experience is tailored for men, with 44% having felt patronised by showroom staff. “We want to make sure everyone is comfortable when visiting a Citroën retailer,” remarked Greg Taylor, managing director of Citroën UK.
  • David Hemmings may have been the star of slightly odd Swinging ’60s film BLOW-UP but his 1965 ROLLS-ROYCE SILVER CLOUD III CONVERTIBLE, left, was also a natural on screen. It was owned by the movie’s executive producer Pierre Rouve. FENDER-BROAD in Holt, Wiltshire says the car is “on the button”; it’s on offer at £274,995.

    1965 rolls-royce silver cloud III convertible

  • SIR TOM FARMER, founder of car service and repair chain KWIK FIT, has died at the age of 84. He opened his first Kwik Fit in Edinburgh in 1971; by 1984 you couldn’t get better than a Kwik Fit fitter. Farmer sold the business to Ford in 1999 for £1bn.
  • Has the SHANGHAI MOTOR SHOW just given us a glimpse of the future car showroom? Made by OMODA and JAECOO, AI robo-sales assistant MORNINE might look like a Power Ranger but she can give tours, talk car specs and serve drinks. LG
Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

When stars of the day such as Juan Manuel Fangio, Raymond Mays and Giuseppe Farina lined up on the Silverstone grid before the flag dropped on the first Formula 1 World Championship race, the last thing they were probably thinking about was whether or not F1 had a future.

Three-quarters of a century has passed since then and, as Motor Sport readers know, Formula 1 has survived decades of ups and downs to emerge stronger and more popular than ever – and its 75th anniversary has been chosen as the theme for this year’s Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion happening at Laguna Seca during Monterey Car Week.

The Reunion has celebrated Formula 1 for several years with the Mario Andretti Trophy race for cars built between 1966 and 1985 but, for 2025, a new class will be added to spotlight pre-1966 grand prix cars.

Crowd watch race from shade

The shady side of racing

© Rolex/Stephan Cooper

The additional races will enable spectators to see – and hear – some of the greatest cars from the first 16 years of F1, including the Maserati 250F, Ferrari 156 and Brabham BT7. And, since Monterey Car Week falls between the Hungarian and Dutch GPs, there’s talk that Lewis Hamilton, Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri may make guest appearances at Laguna Seca to enhance the anniversary celebrations.

McLaren Racing CEO Zak Brown is also highly tipped to be seen in the cockpit of one of the celebrated British marque’s heritage cars, while an anniversary display promises to line-up the most famous cars in F1 history, and the Phil Hill Cup will see cars from every era of the sport take to the track in a parade.

While it will be centre of the event, the F1 machinery will only represent a small fraction of the 400 cars that, due to their ownership provenance, race records, originality and history, have been selected to join the 13 different groups that include 1922–1955 Grand Prix Legends, 1955–1969 Saloon Cars and 1961–1975 FIA Manufacturers’ Championship.

Camaros IROC 1970s and ’80s Reunion

Camaros were habitual winners in IROC during the 1970s and ’80s – expect to see a few at the Reunion.

Getty Images

What’s likely to excite the predominantly American audience is the appearance of an impressive turn out of cars from the much-loved International Race of Champions (IROC) series that ran from 1973–2006. The series, in which a dozen ‘all star’ drivers competed in identically prepared cars, will be re-lived at Laguna Seca for the first time with four races featuring several NASCAR champions taking to the track, including Mark Martin, Ron Schrader and four-time NASCAR winner Jeff Gordon – with the pace car driver being none other than Al Unser Jr.

Zak Brown is also expected to join in with his recently acquired 1977 IROC Camaro which was variously driven in period by Hollywood stars Clint Eastwood, Gene Hackman and Paul Newman during a so-called ‘play day’ alongside other actors and pro drivers.

The legendary Scott Pruett – five-times Daytona 24 Hours winner and victor at the 2014 Sebring 12 Hours – will also delight spectators, who will be able to see all the IROC cars assembled together within the Laguna Seca paddock.

The Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion is at Laguna Seca, August 13–16, with the Pre-Reunion & Corkcrew Hillclimb on August 9-10. Tickets for the Reunion from £50; Pre-reunion from £54. weathertechraceway.com

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The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Bonhams

Quail Lodge & Golf Club, Carmel, August 15. Bonhams.com

Bonhams has been a fixture of the Quail, A Motorsports Gathering since it first held a sale there in 2011. The one-day Quail, celebrated for its garden-party atmosphere, makes for a genteel backdrop to the auction which, this year, will be replete with classic Americana from the 1950s. Fans of unrestored cars will covet a remarkable survivor in the form of a 1958 Cadillac Eldorado Brougham. With a new price of around £4600 (£140,000 today), it was one of the world’s most expensive cars and was bedecked with extras including electric ‘memory’ seats, a perfume atomiser and polarised sun visors. With just 304 built, few remain – and probably none in such a remarkable state of preservation as this, which had one owner from 1963 to 2003. Still in its original Fairfax Blue paint, it wears its patina with pride having recorded just 42,900 miles. It will be offered by Bonhams at no reserve but with a guide price of around £75,000.


1968 Alfa Romeo T33:2 Daytona

RM Sotheby’s

Monterey Conference Center, monterey, August 15-16. rmsothebys.com

If you believe classic cars are all about stories, this 1968 Alfa Romeo T33/2 Daytona, should appeal. Having competed with the Autodelta team in events such as the Daytona 24 Hours, the Targa Florio and various 1000Kms races, it was shipped off to Angola in 1970 where it was campaigned for two years by Portuguese driver António Peixinho – but then came the war of independence. Peixinho returned home, leaving the car under a tarpaulin. In the mid-80s, Frenchman Jean Chambault came across the sorry-looking survivor while on business and arranged to buy it for cash, a video recorder and a Cortina engine. Having been airlifted to Europe, the car ended up in the hands of a former Autodelta mechanic who restored it around 30 years ago. The consignor has raced it but is now selling it as the highlight among a dozen historic Alfas; it could make as much as £1.5m.


1912 Panhard-Levassor X19 Torpédo

Gooding Christie’s

Pebble Beach Parc de Concours, pebble beach, August 15-16. Goodingco.com

Having run the official Pebble Beach sale for the past 20 editions as an independent operator, David Gooding will stage this year’s event for the first time under the Christie’s banner following the acquisition of his business last year by the top international auction house. Other than the branding, however, little is expected to change – which means a carefully curated selection of blue-chip automobiles crossing the block to the dulcet tones of legendary auctioneer Charlie Ross, whose quick wit and English accent go down a storm at Pebble Beach. This year, offerings will include a 1912 Panhard-Levassor X19 Torpédo, above, a 1935 Bugatti Type 57 drophead and a 1963 Mercedes-Benz 300 SL roadster.


1969 Ford GT40 white

Mecum

Hyatt Regency Hotel and Spa, Del Monte golf course, August 14-16. Mecum.com

In contrast to the more refined Car Week events being staged by its rivals, Mecum will further its reputation for all-singing, all-dancing auctions rich in pizazz and pantomime – and rich in lots. In typical style, this sale will take three very full days to conduct thanks to a catalogue bulging with no fewer than 600 cars and 100 motorcycles across a range of estimates that means there really should be ‘something for everyone’. But while there may be some offerings in the bargain basement, expect some stellar prices, too. Last year’s Car Week Mecum sale was topped by a 1969 Ford GT40 lightweight that soared to £5.9m.

Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Pebble Beach might be the name that everyone associates with what many believe to be the most important classic car gathering on the planet, but there’s another event during Monterey Car Week that, dare we say it, has come to be regarded as almost more prestigious and even more exclusive.

A relative upstart compared with the 75-year-old Pebble Beach Concours, the loftily named The Quail, A Motorsports Gathering was only established in 2004 but quickly grew to become the place to be seen for spectators, car owners and manufacturers alike.

It was probably destined to be something extra special from the outset, not least because Rolex – which employs an extensive team of people with a knack of sniffing out prestigious events worthy of its name – has been title sponsor since year two.

As a result, the owner of the car selected for the Rolex Best in Show award receives an Oyster Perpetual Datejust timepiece engraved on the back with the date of his or her achievement, while the car itself gets the honour of being included in the Rolex Circle of Champions on one of the golf club’s pristine greens.

Conceived as a sort of luxurious garden party for the exceptionally well-to-do, The Quail stands out from other Car Week events by dint of the fact that it lasts for one day – and it’s a short day, at that, with the gates to the Quail Lodge & Golf Club opening to spectators at 9am and quietly closing just seven hours later.

Patriots Jet Team The Quail

Patriots Jet Team

Patriots Jet Team

In between, guests, spectators, concours competitors and celebrities and VIPs from the worlds of motor sport, film, and business will enjoy only the finest wines and food prepared by top chefs and be invited to indulge in high-priced goods from the elaborate stands of some of the world’s leading luxury brands.

One of the reasons for The Quail being a cut above is that the golf club and lodge belong to The Hongkong and Shanghai Hotels, best known for its ownership and operation of the world class Peninsula Hotels – and the man in charge of the whole lot is billionaire Hong Kong businessman Sir Michael Kadoorie who makes no secret of his love of old motor cars.

Over the years, Sir Michael has counted Bugattis, Bentleys, Rolls-Royces, Hispano-Suizas and Lamborghinis among the contents of his motor house – very often, all at the same time.

And it’s a combination of his unwavering enthusiasm for classic cars and his unrivalled skill as a host that has made The Quail what it is.

Typically around 200 cars attend (having been comprehensively vetted by The Quail’s selection committee), with each being chosen for one of a range of specific classes.

Mercedes-Benz CLK GTR The Quail in 2024

This Mercedes-Benz CLK GTR (25 were made) was a star at The Quail in 2024.

The Quail

What they have in common is that they are each ‘the best of the best’ – as demonstrated by last year’s show winner, a 1937 Delahaye Type 135 which is believed to have been the car driven by the legendary René Dreyfus in the Prix de Million (a million francs on offer at the time) as well as the Cork and Pau Grand Prix in 1938.

Regular classes include Spirit of The Quail, Pre-War Sports & Racing, Post-War Sports and Custom Coachwork. But The Quail doesn’t only focus on four wheels. Its Sports & Racing Motorcycles category offers a highly coveted trophy which was won last year by a 1930 Indian ‘Four’ (The Quail also hosts a Motorcycle Gathering earlier in the year).

Carroll Shelby’s 1949 MG TC in Oklahoma in 1952

Carroll Shelby’s first racing car – a borrowed 1949 MG TC that he took to a class win in Oklahoma in 1952.

The Quail

In addition to the dozen or so regular classes, each edition of The Quail also includes a few special ones, with four being featured this year. Perhaps the most unusual (and imaginative) is Liveries of F1 which aims to mark Formula 1’s 75th anniversary by showcasing some of the often wild colour schemes and promotional designs seen on grand prix cars since the very earliest days of sponsorship deals.

Another class will celebrate the 30th anniversary of the Ferrari F50 supercar, with others marking 60 years since the launches of the high-performance Shelby Mustang GT350 (which led to the creation of the celebrated Hertz so-called ‘rent a racer’ versions) and the Italian-designed, American-powered Iso Grifo GT car.

The Quail 6000 guests

Around 6000 will have a day to remember

Expect to see the best examples of all three variants at The Quail amid its rolling greens – assuming, that is, that you’ve been sufficiently organised to secure your £750–plus entry ticket (known in genteel Quail-speak as a ‘credential’).

Officially, all credentials for the 2025 Motorsports Gathering were sold out back in April – although, as prospective buyers of Rolex watches often have to do, it’s possible to place one’s name on an ‘expression of interest’ list in the hope that a space frees-up in advance of the big day.

If it does, we’re pretty sure you’ll come away thinking you spent your money wisely.

The Quail, A Motorsports Gathering is on Friday, August 15 at The Quail Lodge & Golf Club, 8205 Valley Greens Drive, Carmel, CA 93923, 9am-4pm. quaillodge.com

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The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Q&A

McKeel Hagerty is CEO of Hagerty, the “automotive enthusiast brand” that, as well as being the world’s largest provider of classic car insurance (two million clients and counting) also operates in the worlds of media, auto shows and auctions, the latter through its 2022 acquisition of Broad Arrow. Here, Hagerty tells us about his motoring journey and his love of Monterey Car Week.

Motor Sport: Do you remember when cars first sparked an emotion for you?

MH: Cars and mechanical things were in the ether in our household. My father, Frank, was in the insurance business [he founded Hagerty in 1984 as a specialist wooden boat insurer] and when he wasn’t working, he was either tinkering with boats and cars, making engines run or re-wiring the house – he could do anything. That’s the world in which my two sisters and I were raised.

What was your first car – and the story behind it?

MH: There was constantly a car or two being fixed up in the family garage, and it was practice for we children to buy one as teens and restore it in the years before we were old enough to drive. One of my sisters had a Chevrolet Corvair, the other a Porsche 356B – and, when I was 13, I bought a 1967 Porsche 911 S, which I paid for with lawn-mowing money. We had to dig it out of the snow on the owner’s drive. I restored it with my father’s help. I’m still grateful for that time engaging with him.

McKeel with dad Frank 911 black porsche

McKeel with dad Frank and the same 911 as above – albeit painted black

Hagerty family

Black Porsche 911 under snow

“Yeah the car’s on the drive, kid”

Hagerty family

What happened to the car?

MH: We finished it in time for my 16th birthday in 1983, after which I began driving it and took it to college. I painted it black, because it seemed wrong to have a German car in any other colour – but in the early 2000s I had it professionally restored and returned to its original Polo Red. I still own it. It’s the first car I get out at the beginning of the season and it’s the last one to go to bed at the end of it. Recently, I used it for a couple of bucket-list drives – up the Pikes Peak hillclimb course and from Los Angeles to San Francisco on Highway 1, running along the Pacific coast.

What makes Monterey Car Week special for you?

MH: Partly its history and uniqueness – it has taken 75 years to grow from being just a concours to encompassing a diverse bunch of automotive events running over a 10-day period. It has become one of those American happenings that takes on global significance, like the Kentucky Derby, the Indy 500 or the US Open golf. I also love the very special combination of a concours competition, serious motor racing and a whole series of collector car auctions. All that combined with the dwindling number of big international auto shows, has made Monterey Car Week a major gathering point for the world’s top automotive executives and designers.

McKeel’s Porsche Polo Red

McKeel’s Porsche is back in its original colour – Polo Red

What aspect of Monterey Car Week is your personal favourite?

MH: Well, I always kick off with the Motorlux opening party [which Hagerty produces] and I love going to the events where cars can be seen in motion. I especially enjoy watching the races at Laguna Seca and the concours itself – well, it’s the best we have in the US. I now go as a spectator, but I was a judge for 23 years and I also participate by showing cars, such as my 1960 Aston Martin DB4 Series II and my Cadillac V16. It’s fun to get the cars ready, to get dressed up – and then to feel nervous while the judges make their inspections.

“It has become one of those happenings that takes on global significance”

Which type of concours car do you prefer – a 100-point restored example or a preservation class original?

MH: There’s a cultural difference between the US and Europe in that respect. Traditionally, American car events celebrated restoration – to us a barn find meant, “Great, now I get to restore it.” But 20 years ago people really started celebrating preservation and originality. To be honest, I like both. Judging preservation is about looking into a car’s history and its story, and I have been lucky enough to have seen some of the greatest preserved cars in existence, from the very first Lamborghini Miura dating from the mid-60s to a Ferrari 410 Superfast that a guy bought when he was a 13-year-old bus boy [US term: somebody who collects dishes and glasses in a restaurant]. Apparently it was owned by a mafioso guy and he allowed the bus boy to pay it off a tiny bit at a time and he kept it for life.

Motorlux mixes cars, aircraft and dinner

Motorlux mixes cars, aircraft and gourmet dining.

Of Hagerty’s two million clients, how many have ultra-valuable collections?

MH: Globally, there are probably thousands of collections worth $1m. But when you get to the $100m mark, the numbers reduce to dozens. Value can be a controversial subject, because the worth of a particular car can change and many people on our top list are of a certain age and bought their cars decades ago when the prices were a fraction of what they are now. The strange thing is, a $100m car collection is rare, but an art collection worth $100m is relatively commonplace.

Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Monterey Car Week. That’s something of a misnomer – because this world-renowned homage to car culture has grown into a 10-day extravaganza that this year runs from August 8–17. In fact, it’s even longer because, four days before the official start, scores of classics will meet in Kirkland, near Seattle, to take part in the 1500-mile Pebble Beach Motoring Classic which ends on the Monterey Peninsula nine days later – in good time for the Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance.

The concours (Sunday, August 17) remains the main event of Monterey Car Week despite being just one of dozens of peripheral happenings that have evolved from it – in just the same way that the concours itself was founded in 1950 as an add-on to the Pebble Beach Road Races which ran from 1950-56. The one-day festival of gleaming paintwork and burnished chrome has taken place every year – save for 1960 due to a scheduling conflict with another Pebble Beach event and pandemic-stricken 2020 – and remains the jewel in the crown of this automotive feast. Two hundred of the world’s finest and most valuable veteran, vintage and classic cars line up on the Pebble Beach golf links to be ogled and admired by more than 15,000 spectators.

But while the crowds are there simply to coo in admiration at vehicles worth hundreds of millions of dollars, this is a full day’s work for the leading experts tasked with examining each entry with forensic care before choosing the winners in a range of categories – and finally selecting the best in show.

Concours day is still regarded as the climax of Monterey Car Week, yet the ever-growing number of satellite events taking place during the build-up have taken on their own significance – not least Motorlux, produced by classic car insurance giant Hagerty, that marks the unofficial start of the proceedings.

Taking place at the Monterey Jet Center on Wednesday, August 13 and dubbed ‘the biggest party on the peninsula’, it’s the place to see and be seen, with catering by Michelin-starred chefs and top Californian wines being served by the bucket-full. More than 100 rare cars and aircraft will be dotted around for the 3000 guests to admire as they dance the night away to tunes provided by a leading DJ – all in exchange for a ticket price of £490 per head.

Two days later (Friday, August 15) the gates open for the 22nd edition of The Quail, A Motorsports Gathering that takes place at the Quail Lodge & Golf Club in the shadow of the Santa Lucia mountains.

For those looking for less-formal events to call at and possibly spend some money, Pebble Beach RetroAuto is a must. Starting on Thursday, August 14 and situated opposite the driving range on the Pebble Beach golf course, it combines an eclectic array of luxury goods and the latest high-tech car gadgets with automobilia, ephemera, art and other motoring collectibles (including plenty of Pebble Beach merch). A free-to-enter event, it’s open daily until 6pm, including on concours day.

1927-55 Single-seater at Laguna Seca

Typical 1927-55 single-seater dicing at Laguna Seca

And while the world of old motors is undeniably male-dominated, Monterey doesn’t overlook the enthusiasm for the subject among the female car fans – notably through the staging of a women-only car show at Carmel-by-the-Sea. The Prancing Ponies Car Show is organised by the San Francisco-based Prancing Ponies Foundation, a non-profit group dedicated to teaching leadership skills to young, low-income women. Expect to see more than 100 exotic, classic, muscle, sport and electric cars, with exhibitors and reserved guests being able to take advantage of a VIP lounge, all day food and wine and a fashion show featuring local designers and models.

Female owners are encouraged to dress up to match either the colour of their car or the era in which it was built – and, just to demonstrate inclusivity, a few male-owned motors will be allowed in an invitation-only Men we Love category. VIP passes start at £225; regular spectators go for free.

But for those more interested in seeing and hearing the cars they love in action, a trip to the Laguna Seca Raceway may be in order on Saturday, August 9 and Sunday 10 to take in the two-day Monterey Pre-Reunion, a precursor to the four-day Rolex-sponsored Monterey Motorsport Reunion (as many as 550 cars – with some past F1 racers) which starts on Wednesday.

The ‘pre’ event, kicking-off at 7am each day, will see around 200-300 historic racing cars practicing and qualifying for ‘the real thing’ and includes the recently added feature known as the Corkscrew Hillclimb in which drivers tackle the celebrated hairpin Turn 8 and 8A in the opposite direction to normal.


Monterey Car Week 
Six other events not to miss

August 8, 11-13  
Cars, cocktails and calamari

Taking place between 9am and 10am on Old Fisherman’s Wharf in Old Monterey, this display of especially decorated cars is designed to provide photo-opp fodder and includes a photography and essay contest with prizes of ‘Wharf dollars’ to spend on car-themed cocktails and other items.


Poster Pop-up

August 10-13 
Poster Pop-up

Head to Crossroads Boulevard, Carmel between 1.30pm and 6pm to see (and also buy) an impressively large display of guaranteed original posters publicising car marques and motoring events from the years 1895-1970.


Central Coast Poker Rally

August 11 
Central Coast Poker Rally

An unusual charity rally for select classic and exotic cars, this will start at 8.30am at The Dunes in Marina with a public car show before drivers head-off on a route featuring five ‘pitstops’ to collect poker hands – and play blackjack and roulette tables along the way. The rally includes laps at Laguna Seca.


Astons on the Avenue Monterey

August 13 
Astons on the Avenue

Events dedicated to Germany’s Porsche and Mercedes-Benz as well as Italy’s Ferrari have long been fixtures of Monterey Car Week. And now the British have a chance to fly the flag with Astons on the Avenue, a five-hour gathering (from 11am) of some of the finest Aston Martins, from pre-war models to present day supercars. Ocean Avenue, Carmel-by-the-Sea.


1971-Fiat-500-L-Aliotti-The Little Car Show

August 13 
The Little Car Show

If you believe small is beautiful, this space-efficient gathering of mini, micro, electric, steam and arcane small vehicles will appeal. Find it on Lighthouse Avenue, Pacific Grove’s main thoroughfare, 12 noon-5pm.


August 16 
Concours d’Lemons

This antidote to the hyper-polished concours promises to show “good examples of bad cars and bad examples of good cars”. It demonstrates that a hooptie worth three figures can provide as much pleasure as a minter. Seaside City Hall, 8am-1.30pm. Admission is free – to ensure, say the organisers, “you get what you pay for”.

Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

When you consider that Jody Scheckter’s driving style earned him the nickname ‘Sideways Scheckter’ in his early days, that he continued to drive racing cars that way right up to and throughout his Formula 1 career, that he won 10 F1 grands prix out of 112 starts, and that he became F1 world champion in a Ferrari – the seventh of only nine drivers to have done that in the Scuderia’s 76-year F1 roll of honour – it is surprising to me that he tends to feature so low on most ‘best ever F1 driver’ rankings. Perhaps it is because, unlike some of his now more-lauded contemporaries – Gilles Villeneuve and Ronnie Peterson for example – he survived his F1 career with nary a scratch. Or maybe it is because, unlike others – Niki Lauda and James Hunt spring to mind – he did not hang around once he had decided to retire. No, while they continued to earn a crust in and around F1 – Hunt in the commentary box and Lauda in various highly paid consultancies for a number of F1 teams – Scheckter exited stage left and made a ton of money in a business entirely unrelated to motor sport.

Scheckter, Brands Hatch F3 Merlyn Mk21, 1971

Scheckter, leading, at Brands Hatch in his F3 Merlyn Mk21, 1971.

But, before we talk about FATS (Firearms Training Simulation), which he founded in Atlanta, Georgia in 1984, let’s go back to his early days, in East London, Eastern Cape province, on the south-eastern coast of South Africa. “I was useless at school, but I loved hanging out in my dad’s workshop,” he remembers. “Racing was big in South Africa back then, especially around the East London area. My uncle had raced at the what’s-name [Prince George] circuit in East London as long ago as 1937. It hosted the South African Grand Prix in the 1960s [non-championship F1 races in 1960, 1961 and 1966, and world championship-status grands prix in 1962, 1963 and 1965] and some of the F1 drivers used to stay at our house, which was cool.”

“Really?” I ask. “Which ones?”

“Oh I dunno.”

Jody’s memory is funny that way. He recalls all sorts of arcane details from way back – as you will soon see – yet occasionally he fails to remember aspects of his remarkable story that normal folk like you and me cannot imagine forgetting, such as which F1 driver was staying in the spare room when he was a kid. But so it is. “Yeah, sorry, I can’t remember. Anyway, when I left school I became an apprentice mechanic for my dad. I worked on cars and motorbikes, and when I was 18 I got my driver’s licence and entered a local race. I got hold of a Renault R8 Gordini. I prepped it myself – engine, gearbox, everything – and I went racing in it.

Prince George Circuit

Prince George Circuit, where Jody’s uncle raced

Alamy

“In terms of fixing it up, I didn’t really know what I was doing, so I copied this brilliant guy who was the head of Renault’s competition department – Scamp Porter – and at one point he took a look at my car and he said, ‘That’s exactly the same as mine.’ Well, it was, so I kind of shrugged. Anyway, it was then that the Sideways Scheckter thing began. The R8 had a locked diff, so you had to slide it to make it go quick. I guess it was kind of habit-forming. Sliding race cars became my style. I think it helped me on street circuits when I got to F1. I was always good on street circuits, Long Beach and Monaco especially. Anyway, I started winning in that R8, and Ford took notice, so they offered me a drive in a Formula Ford race at Kyalami. I was 20.”

Jody Scheckter, ’71

Scheckter, ’71

Stories about that first outing in a single-seater have passed into racing folklore, so I want to ask him about a particularly juicy aspect of the legend. “Is it true that you spun 14 times that weekend?”

“Oh I dunno. I spun a lot, always at the same corner, at Clubhouse [a tricky medium-speed left-hander]. I later found out that the car’s rear suspension was loose, so I had no chance. Anyway, they fixed it for the next races, I got better, and I did OK.”

He did indeed. He scored more points than any other local driver, and his prize was 1000 rand and an air ticket to the other London, in the UK. Jody was on his way.

“When I got to England [in 1971], I moved into a flat in Baker Street [central London], with two racing journalists, Andrew Marriott and Mike Doodson, and I spent my prize money on the famous ‘Magic Merlyn’ Formula Ford car [a Merlyn MkIIA] that Colin Vandervell and Emerson Fittipaldi had raced successfully before me [and which Scheckter would sell on to Frank Sytner, then would later own again himself], and I did OK in it.” OK? More than OK, actually, because he put it on the pole first time out, then he started either shunting it or winning in it. He soon progressed to a Merlyn Mk21 Formula 3 car, in which he won races at Thruxton, Oulton Park and Mallory Park.

Crystal Palace in 1972 Scheckter

It was here at Crystal Palace in 1972, in a McLaren, that Scheckter started to believe he could make it as a successful racing driver

“I liked the feel of F3 cars much better than Formula Ford cars. F3 cars had proper slicks whereas Formula Ford cars had road-car tyres. I was doing OK except that I didn’t have any money. I survived on Indian food, which was very cheap in London back then. You could get a decent curry for 20p. Anyway, to earn a few pounds I took a job as a bracket welder in the Merlyn factory.”

“I survived on Indian food, which was very cheap in London back then. A decent curry was 20p”

On track that season, 1971, Scheckter was no longer a ‘what’s-name’ – a verbal tic to which he resorts often when searching for a word – but he was instead making a biggish name for himself, winning races in F3, and for 1972 he was offered a brand-new works Formula 2 McLaren M21. “When I won at Crystal Palace in that car, for the first time I thought, ‘Maybe I can go all the way.’ Mike Hailwood was on the pole and the field was full of F1 drivers [Hailwood, Carlos Reutemann, François Cevert, Jean-Pierre Beltoise, Vic Elford and Mike Beuttler]. Reutemann won the first heat, Hailwood won the second, and I won the final. When I overtook Mike at the end, and I held on to beat him by a couple of seconds, that felt good. Carlos was third, only a second behind Mike. I said to myself afterwards, ‘Maybe I can be an F1 driver.’”

South African’s F1 McLaren M19A Watkins Glen 1972

The South African’s F1 debut came in an outdated McLaren M19A at Watkins Glen in 1972

Getty Images

He did not race in all the European F2 Championship rounds in 1972, but he bagged two more good points hauls, at Mallory Park and Enna-Pergusa, and, prompted by Lotus offering him a guest F1 drive at Watkins Glen at the end of the year, McLaren stepped in and proposed the same deal, wherein he would race at the Glen alongside their regular stars Denny Hulme and Peter Revson. Scheckter accepted the McLaren deal. He qualified eighth, in an older-spec M19 than the two established F1 aces were driving – an M19A instead of an M19C – and he ran third until a spin dropped him to ninth. “OK, I spun at Turn 1 on a wet patch, because it was beginning to spit with rain, but I’d done OK.”

“Ken Tyrrell shouted in your face at point-blank range. He drummed discipline into my driving”

As a result McLaren ran him in a few more grands prix. “My first race in 1973 was at home at Kyalami – I’d missed Argentina and Brazil – and I qualified third in an M19A, but I had trouble in the race and I ended up ninth. My next race was at Paul Ricard, where they’d given me an M23, the new car, for the first time. I cranked the rear wing almost flat so as to be quick on the long straight, because I didn’t mind the car sliding, and I qualified second, alongside Jackie Stewart’s Tyrrell. That felt good.” Scheckter led for 42 laps, then he tangled with Fittipaldi’s Lotus while they were lapping a backmarker, ending both their races. Emerson called Jody “a madman and a menace”. “He blamed me,” Scheckter remembers, “but I was in the right. I told him, ‘Yeah, whatever, I’d do it again.’”

In the next grand prix, at Silverstone, Scheckter was in the wrong. He spun on the first lap, triggering a multi-car accident. “I’d qualified sixth, I’d had a good start, and I was running fourth as we approached the last corner, Woodcote, which was superfast in those days, no chicane. Suddenly, the car jumped on me, at high speed, and I was in the wall. It was a huge shunt. I don’t know how I didn’t get hurt. I’ve been lucky that way. I only ever hurt myself once, at Österreichring in the Tyrrell six-wheeler in 1976, but even then I only gashed my leg.”

Jody Scheckter six-wheeled Tyrrell P34 1976 Swedish GP

Scheckter was no fan of the six-wheeled Tyrrell P34, yet he won the 1976 Swedish GP driving it and ended the season third

He joined Tyrrell for 1974, where he had the biggest shoes to fill: those of the retiring Stewart. He had expected his team-mate to be Cevert. However, in qualifying for the last grand prix of 1973, at Watkins Glen, Scheckter had powered his McLaren towards the fast uphill esses that led onto the back straight, and there he had found the wreckage of the Tyrrell that the man whom he had been expecting to partner the following year had just crashed. “I saw the nose of his car in the middle of the circuit, and the rest of it in the guardrail. So I stopped, I jumped out, and I ran towards the car to start trying to get him out. I tried to release his seatbelts, the car was sparking, and fire was what we all feared most back then. I put my arms up to stop the cars behind. I can’t remember much more now. Maybe I’ve blocked it out, or maybe I didn’t look too closely. Jackie later said to me, ‘You were lucky you didn’t look, or you don’t remember.’ François was cut in half. It was the first time I’d seen death up close in racing. Some people said the experience made me a calmer driver afterwards, but I don’t think so. I think that was Ken’s [Tyrrell] famous froth jobs, where he shouted in your face at point-blank range. He drummed a bit more discipline into my driving that way.

“I met Mr Ferrari. It was like a mafia scene. An old man wearing dark glasses, in a dark office”

“Those three seasons at Tyrrell [1974, 1975, and 1976] were a mixed bag for me. My team-mate, Patrick Depailler, was a lovely guy…” – then, laughing, and putting on a French accent – “…but with Patrick, the car was always either ‘fantastique’ or ‘a piece of sheet’. We were both new to Tyrrell, and we started to collaborate. I remember once asking him how he was taking a certain corner, and he replied, ‘Quite flat.’ So I tried it and I nearly had a big shunt. It turned out that by ‘quite flat’ he’d meant ‘almost flat’. I guess an important detail had been lost in translation, because Patrick was old-school French. He’d have a glass of wine before practice.

Zandvoort August 1979 Ferrari’s Scheckter

Zandvoort, August 1979: a second-place for Ferrari’s Scheckter kept him at the summit of the drivers’ championship

LAT Images

“But that first Tyrrell season, 1974, was good for me. I won a grand prix for the first time, at Anderstorp, but I don’t remember a feeling of euphoria. I like a party as much as the next man, but I didn’t used to party during the F1 season. That wasn’t my style. Then I won again at Brands Hatch. It was getting close for the world championship between me, Fittipaldi and [Clay] Regazzoni, and I was in contention right to the last race, at Watkins Glen, but in the end Fittipaldi won it.

“The next year wasn’t quite so good, but I won my home grand prix, at Kyalami, which was nice, because my family were all there to enjoy it, and it was a good win because I’d had a big shunt in practice, so the mechanics had to put the car back together again, then the engine blew, so they had to fix it all over again. But I still managed to qualify the car third, even though it was basically a bag of bits, and I won the race the next day.


The next year, 1976, the year of the Tyrrell six-wheeler, was really disappointing. Yeah, I know I won at Anderstorp again, and I got a few podiums, but the concept of the car made no sense to me. Part of the rationale was that the four smaller front wheels would reduce frontal area, but actually it’s the rear wheels, which were miles bigger than the fronts on all F1 cars back then, that determined frontal area, not the fronts. Another part of the rationale was that, with six contact patches instead of four, braking would be better. In fact it was worse, because you had a 50% greater chance of lock-ups, and therefore a 50% greater need to ease off the brakes to get the wheels turning again, and that made braking worse, not better. One thing I’ll say for the car was that it was very driveable because of the extra front-end grip. I was sideways everywhere that year.

“Towards the middle of 1976 the Tyrrell team started listening to Patrick more than to me, because he loved the six-wheeler, so I began to feel I had to leave. Walter Wolf offered me the chance to drive for his new one-car team in 1977, and it was a lot more money than I’d been getting, so I said to my mechanic at Tyrrell, Roy Topp, ‘How about it?’ Roy agreed to come with me, and I helped persuade Peter Warr, the Lotus guy, to be team manager, and the car was designed by Patrick Head [actually Harvey Postlethwaite; Head was his deputy].

“Enzo Ferrari had first approached me back in my Tyrrell days, and we hadn’t done a deal then, but obviously it was good that he was interested. So I sent him a telex, asking if I could test the Wolf at Fiorano. Guess what? He said yes. The test went well, then we went down to Kyalami to do more testing, and I got on really well with Patrick there. I wish he’d stayed, but he left to join Frank Williams.

Monaco 1977 GP Jody Scheckter

Among royalty at Monaco in 1977 after winning his second GP of the season for Wolf

Getty Images

“Anyway, we went to Argentina for the first race, and it was unbelievably hot. I qualified in the midfield, miles off James Hunt’s pole time in the McLaren, but the extreme heat caused problems for a lot of the cars and a lot of the drivers, and our car was a solid design and I was really fit by then. Towards the end of the race I was up to second, and Carlos Pace was leading in the Brabham-Alfa, but I was closing on him, and I could see that he was taking funny lines, struggling in the heat, and in the end he puked in his helmet I think, so I passed him and I took the win.” It was an extraordinary achievement: a victory for the brand-new Wolf team first time out.

“We won three grands prix that year –Argentina, Monaco and Canada – and I should have won the world championship. If Patrick had stayed, maybe I would have done. The next year, 1978, the Wolf was a boxy attempt at a wing car, and it was no good. But early that season Mr Ferrari came knocking again.

“He’d approached me before, in my Tyrrell days, as I say. That first time, I drove from Monaco to meet a Ferrari guy in a café on an autostrada somewhere in Italy, then we went to Maranello together, and I met Mr Ferrari. It was like a mafia scene: an old man with white hair, in a suit, wearing dark glasses, in a dark office, with bodyguards all around. His very first question was: ‘How much money do you want?’ I replied, ‘I’m too young to talk about money.’ We didn’t do a deal then. But they came after me again in 1978, as I say, and they were insistent this time. So I asked for a big number – a good whack of money – and they went for it. Piero [Ferrari, Enzo’s son] said I was the highest-paid F1 driver in 1979, but actually I think Lauda was getting more at Brabham.

“My deal hadn’t been announced yet, but Reutemann [who was Ferrari’s number-one driver in 1978] got to hear about it. I’d been told that I’d be the number-one driver for 1979, and he knew that, so I suggested we meet to discuss how we were going to work together in 1979. I was living in Monaco and he was living in Saint-Jean-Cap-Ferrat, which is a half-hour drive down the coast from Monaco, and he insisted we had to meet on neutral ground halfway between. Funny guy. Anyway, he decided to leave Ferrari to go to Lotus, so my team-mate in 1979 was Gilles Villeneuve.

Zolder 1979 Jody Scheckter flat-12 Ferrari 312 T4

Hitting the high notes at Zolder in 1979, with Scheckter on his way to winning the GP in a flat-12 Ferrari 312 T4

“Gilles won two early races – Kyalami and Long Beach – but I’d have won at Kyalami if I hadn’t had pitstop problems. My tyre change took 30sec, his took 20sec, and he beat me by 3sec. Even so, Gilles was quick, proper quick, so I thought, ‘I’ve got to raise my game.’ People thought he was a hooligan, but that was an act really. When we used to travel from Monaco to Maranello, he’d drive normally for most of the way, then a couple of miles from the factory he’d start wheelspinning and powersliding to impress the local tifosi. People said he was faster than I was in 1979, but he drove with no margin. For instance at Monaco I took the pole, not him, even though he kept his foot flat on the throttle when the car went momentarily airborne on the main straight beside the pits, hoping to nick a tenth. I always timed a gearchange for that moment, to be kind to the car. He did the same thing the next day, in the race, he broke a driveshaft, and I won. Also, I weighed more than he did, and F1 didn’t run ballast in those days. People don’t tend to factor in all those things.

“Gilles was good. He’d never have done the dirty on me, like Didier Pironi did on him at Imola”

“He didn’t let me win at Monza that year, either, which is another thing people often say. We were running 1-2 near the end of the race, and Ferrari’s policy was that you don’t fight each other when you’re running in line astern like that, so I started short-shifting to save the engine, changing up at 10,000rpm instead of 12,000rpm. Just behind me, he knew what I was doing, so he did the same. Neither of us was driving at ten-tenths at that point, although I put the hammer down on the last lap just to make sure. But I needn’t have, because Gilles was good like that. He’d never have done the dirty on me, like Didier Pironi did the dirty on him at Imola three years later. Anyway, I won the race and the championship that day at Monza, and I felt relief rather than joy. I’d done what I’d set out to do.

“I stayed close to Gilles after I retired from F1 [at the end of 1980] and when Pironi didn’t obey those team orders at Imola in 1982, and he stole a win off him, and Ferrari didn’t back him, Gilles was absolutely broken. Actually, he asked me to go with him to Ferrari to support him when he stated his grievances. Pironi had broken their agreement, no question about it. Two weeks later Gilles was dead. Incredibly sad.

“I’d retired already by then, and one of the reasons I did so was that, in my last season, 1980, Gilles was more competitive than I was. The Ferrari was crap, we were getting nowhere, and I thought, ‘I’ve won the championship already, so this just isn’t worth getting killed for.’ And also, for me, the magic of F1 had gone.”

Jody Scheckter Gilles Villeneuve Monza, 1979

Scheckter, leading, and Ferrari team-mate Gilles Villeneuve head the field at Monza, 1979; Jody would soon be F1’s new champion

Jody was still only 31, he was considerably fitter than most butchers’ dogs – for example he won the hugely popular World Superstars competition in 1981, beating a number of Olympians – he was well-off but not minted, and he was full of energy and ambition. He looked at inaugurating a rival to IROC (International Race of Champions) with Ford, then he negotiated the contracts with the MotoGP (then known as Grand Prix Motorcycling) riders for a series of non-championship races at Donington Park.

“Then, out of the blue, I found myself reading a magazine about weapon simulation systems, and I thought, ‘Maybe F1 levels of tech could improve that, and maybe I could do it?’ So I did, starting the business on the kitchen table. Soon I moved it to Hilton Head [South Carolina, US], then to Atlanta [Georgia, US], then it began to grow. I ran the company like an F1 team at war. I hadn’t thought I was going to make a ton of money. No, I just wanted to be successful, which isn’t exactly the same thing. But we did it for 12 years, from 1984 to 1996. We ended up with 280 employees, and in our last three years our sales totals were $29m, $60m and $100m. When I sold it, I did well.”

“I won the race and the championship that day at Monza, and I felt relief rather than joy”

He went back to the UK, where he bought a mansion in Hampshire and a large house in Kensington, London. From there he worked hard to support the developing race careers of his sons Toby and Tomas. At the time I remember that he was reluctant to admit publicly that Tomas, two years younger than Toby, was the greater prospect, but now there is no need for him to be so diplomatic: “Well, they were both good but Tomas did better.” He won races in karts and Formula Ford in South Africa, then he moved to the UK and won races in Formula Vauxhall Junior, Formula Opel Euroseries, Formula Euro Open by Nissan and British F3. In 2001, still only 20, he was contracted to Jaguar’s F1 team as a test and reserve driver. He appeared to be on the verge of following in Dad’s footsteps.

He might well have done exactly that, had he not been caught kerb-crawling in a company Jag in Northampton, for which offence he was fined and fired. “Stupid idiot, Bobby Rahal,” Jody barks two dozen years later, and the surname of the American racing legend is the only phoneme in our 90-minute interview that he speaks with manifest disdain. “Lauda, who took over from running Jaguar’s F1 team when Rahal got the boot, said he didn’t agree with it. Niki said they should have smacked Tomas on the wrist and kept him on. Anyway, it’s all ancient history now.” Tomas ended up going to the States, where he won races in IndyCar.

Jody David Scheckter is now 75, he is still remarkably fit, and he is living in Genoa, Italy. “Why Italy?” I ask him.

“Well, I started Laverstoke Park Farm, in Hampshire, in 1996. We worked really hard on it, and we made some great products – food that was as healthy and as tasty as possible –and most of our products won awards,” he begins. In the end, after 27 years, it was forced to close because it had been impossible to make it profitable, which was a great pity. At one time Jody had hens, chickens, ducks, geese, turkeys, wild boar, three breeds of pig, three breeds of sheep, three breeds of cattle, and even some water buffalo. I visited him there once, bought some of his produce that day, and I am here to tell you that his mozzarella and Roquefort were as good as anything I have ever tasted in Italy or France.

Jody’s son Tomas Scheckter

Jody’s son Tomas, left, became Jaguar’s F1 test driver in 2000 and later moved to America to race Indycars

Getty Images

As it happens mozzarella indirectly sparked his decision to move to Italy. “I was holidaying on the Amalfi Coast,” he continues. “One day I tasted some local mozzarella and it was fantastic, so I found the owner of the company that made it and I said to him, ‘Please teach me how to make mozzarella as good as yours.’ He replied, ‘Come to my factory.’ So I did. The region was so beautiful, so I thought, ‘Let’s give up our apartment in Monaco and take a place in Italy instead.’ So we did. Lewis [Hamilton] took over our Monaco apartment actually.”

Jody and I could prattle on all day, but that seems like a good moment at which to say thank you, and to let the 1979 F1 world champion go on his way. But, before I do so, I have one last question: “Do you still pay attention to F1?”

“I don’t go to grands prix, no, but I watch on TV. I’m friendly with Piero [Ferrari] and Zak [Brown]. Lewis is brilliant and Max [Verstappen], too. Lewis is cleaner though – I rate him as one of the very best of all time.”

“So were you, Jody,” I reply – and, nervous of appearing unctuous, I nonetheless tell him that, in 1977, when he almost won the F1 Drivers’ World Championship in a Wolf, he was the best racing driver in the world.

He snorts chummily, then says: “Wow! You must be smoking something!” Typical Jody. Perhaps it is his remarkable modesty that prevents him being listed high on most ‘best ever F1 driver’ rankings. But he should be.


Born: 1950, East London, South Africa

  • 1971 Heads to the UK and temporarily moves into the flat of motor racing writers.
  • 1972 Wins an F2 race at Crystal Palace; F1 debut with McLaren at the season-ending American GP at Watkins Glen.
  • 1973 Five F1 races with McLaren; in the US wins the SCCA F5000 Championship.
  • 1974 A full-time F1 drive with Tyrrell, with wins at Anderstorp and Brands Hatch.
  • 1975 Scheckter becomes the first South African to win the South African GP.
  • 1976 Tyrrell switches from its 007 to the P34; Scheckter becomes the only driver to win an F1 race with a six-wheeled car.
  • 1977 Moves to Wolf and instantly dazzles with a win in Argentina; more victories follow in Monaco and Canada.
  • 1978 Wolf car not so competitive, but there are still four podiums; secret meeting with Enzo Ferrari opens the next door.
  • 1979 Ferrari 312 T3 and T4 prove consistent; Scheckter is world champion.
  • 1980 “Crap” Ferrari, plus Gilles Villeneuve more up for it; retires from F1.
  • 1981 Super-fit; wins World Superstars.
  • 1984-96 Firearms Training Simulation.
  • 1996-2023 Biodynamic farmer.
Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

May 13, 1950: Drivers including Juan Manuel Fangio, Reg Parnell and Nino Farina gather at the start of Farm Straight at Silverstone before the Grand Prix of Europe.

May 13, 2025: A group of journalists gather in a refurbished WWII aircraft hangar at the same racing circuit to remember the 75th anniversary of a moment that heralded a new era for motor racing.

We all know by now that the 1950 GP of Europe was also the first race of the new World Championship of Drivers – an innovation that marked a step change in the development of top-tier racing.

Graham Hills 1962 BRM P578 and Damon’s Hill 1996 Williams FW18 Silverstone 75 Exhibition

There’s gold in them thar Hills: Graham’s 1962 BRM P578 and Damon’s 1996 Williams FW18

Ben Gregory-Ring

Alan Mann Lotus Cortina KPU 329C 1965 with Brabham BT20 Silverstone 75 Exhibition

Alan Mann Lotus Cortina KPU 329C from 1965 with a Brabham BT20 – one of two built for the 1966 F1 season

Ben Gregory-Ring

The location of last month’s gathering was the Silverstone Museum, which was launching a new exhibition timed to open exactly 75 years since that inaugural race and aimed at bringing F1 history to life with a collection of rarely seen documents, some sensational cars and even a recreation of the (somewhat prosaic) scaffold on which the royal family waved off the start of the race.

Leyton House March CG891, 1989 Silverstone 75 Exhibition

Adrian Newey-designed Leyton House March CG891, as driven by Ivan Capelli in 1989.

Ben Gregory-Ring

letters from Enzo Ferrari Silverstone 75 Exhibition

Letters from Enzo Ferrari

Ben Gregory-Ring

Among the highlights, which will run until September 30, are the BRM P578 driven by Graham Hill which will be displayed for the first time alongside son Damon’s championship-winning Williams FW18; a Lotus 72; Niki Lauda’s first point-scoring F1 car the BRM P160; the Williams FW14B that took Nigel Mansell to world championship glory and George Russell’s 2023 Mercedes W14.

Railings 1950 British GP Silverstone 75 Exhibition

Railings held by royalty at the 1950 British Grand Prix.

The exhibition tells the story of F1 from that first race in 1950 up to the present day. But despite the plethora of cars some of the most intriguing items are documents from the BRDC archive, of which the museum staff are custodians. These include a 1950 race programme, the lunch menu for King George VI and signing-on sheets featuring the likes of Alain Prost, Stefan Bellof, Mansell and Ayrton Senna. There’s an eyebrow-raising letter exchange from the vaults of the BRDC between Enzo Ferrari and club secretary John Eason Gibson, in which the former complains bitterly about having to foot the cost of transporting his cars to the 1956 British GP.

Ronnie Peterson’s Lotus 72 from 1974 Silverstone 75 Exhibition

Ronnie Peterson’s Lotus 72 from 1974

Ben Gregory-Ring

“There is no better place to be celebrating the history of F1 than right here,” says Rob Jaina, head of learning and engagement at the museum. “That first race took place just the other side of these walls. And from there we had Moss and Hawthorn and then Hunt, Lauda and Schumacher – they all raced right here. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to see this unique collection of F1 cars and exhibits, some of which have never been on display before.”

Issue Contents Archive - Motor Sport Magazine

The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Were he to have his time again and had the blessing of choice, would Sir Jackie Stewart have raced in a different era? He’d surely have enjoyed the money Formula 1 stars earn today… But no. In the pantheon of the F1 World Championship’s 75 years, Sir Jackie says he wouldn’t change his own timeline. After all, he raced with and against his best friends. What could be better than that?

There is a caveat, however – and not the one you might expect. The three-time world champion has previously claimed he and his beloved wife Lady Helen counted up 57 friends and colleagues who were lost to motor racing during his time in the cockpit. Vastly improved safety is the clear and obvious positive development of the past 75 years, embraced by all (at least now) and encouraged so vociferously by the campaigning Scot from the mid-1960s onward. But the deadly element, considered crazy to young eyes today, isn’t what he’d avoid if he was doing it all again.

“I’m happy I raced when I did, but I’m sorry that I didn’t race in another era in one respect,” says Sir Jackie. “It wasn’t because of the deaths. It was because personally I was burnt out by motor racing. If you were a competitive driver you were bought. It didn’t matter whether it was New Zealand or Australia, the United States of America or Europe, east or west, north or south. You would be driving everything, from a Cortina to Can-Am. It was a more interesting period from a driver’s point of view, but for me it was probably the reason for my retirement.”

Jackie Stewart and Jochen Rindt battle at Silverstone

He reckons his topline career would have lasted longer than its nine seasons between 1965 and ’73 had he specialised as F1 aces do today. That dismissal of his other exploits will likely disappoint those of us who laud the great all-rounders, who drove everything and everywhere, every weekend. F1 was always the pinnacle and what mattered most, but half a century and more ago it wasn’t the be-all and end-all like it is today. Still, Sir Jackie always did have his priorities in order. Take Le Mans for example. “It didn’t interest me,” he states. “It is a big and fantastic race, but I was Formula 1.”

Sir Jackie always was a man out of his own time, in hindsight embracing the modern era before it had even begun. Now 85, but only just starting to show signs of his age, he still can’t get enough of F1 – still travels to a high percentage of the 24-per-season races. “It’s still the same sport, I love it still,” he insists. “It’s more professional and bigger, but it’s the same animal.”

Now the oldest-living world champion, Sir Jackie is our equivalent of another long-haired knight from the Swinging Sixties: Sir Paul McCartney is another survivor who was at times taken for granted and written off, only to pass through a process of reputational rehabilitation as the world finally remembered his genius. Sir Jackie too wasn’t always universally popular, particularly during his turbulent years as British Racing Drivers’ Club president between 2000-06. But the mood has gradually swung back towards him, accelerating perhaps around the time of Max Mosley’s misjudged, cruel and plain inaccurate “certified half-wit” jibe in 2007. They’d never really liked each other, ever since the days of the March 701.

“Winning at Silverstone was very important whether it was in F3 or F1”

Motor Sport’s most recent catch-up with Sir Jackie was at the Royal Automobile Club in Pall Mall, where he was attending the opening of his own room. Previously the St James’s Room, the mid-sized banqueting space next to the library on the first floor is now the Stewart Room. Surrounded by a curated gallery of photographs depicting both his career and others who have left their mark on F1’s past 75 years, it was somewhat surprising to find a mid-1970s shot of Mosley with his old mucker Bernie Ecclestone.

You had chequered times with one of them, we prompt. “With both of them,” Sir Jackie murmurs but then he’s quick to offer credit where it’s due. “Bernie made motor racing to be built up beyond a level that even he achieved,” he says. “Without him I don’t think it would have built up in the manner it has. I take my hat off to him. Max made a contribution to safety, with Bernie. The two of them made an excellent job. And I was involved to some extent, but it was their power.”

Monaco is a key theme of the room, see opposite. “I won there four times [once in Formula 3, in 1964]. Monaco is lovely. A nightmare, but it’s lovely.” But Silverstone too keeps cropping up. Like the old airfield circuit, Sir Jackie has been a constant presence in motor sport for longer than most of us can remember and their histories are intertwined. “Winning at Silverstone was very important, whether it was in F3 or F1,” he says. “Silverstone played a big part in my life, as a racing driver and as president of the BRDC. I first went with my brother Jimmy who drove for Ecurie Ecosse and Aston Martin. Silverstone was always the place to go to when I was a wee boy.”


Jackie Stewart in the Stewart Room RAC Club’s Pall Mall

Stewart in the newly titled Stewart Room – the RAC Club’s first floor banqueting space overlooking Pall Mall

Rob Cadman

On another spot on the wall is his most-celebrated performance at Silverstone: 1969, when he and good mate Jochen Rindt traded the lead lap after lap. “Look how close those people are, at the end of the main straight,” he says of the shot capturing the pair of them pushing on through Stowe Corner. On the inside, photographers butt up against the low brick wall that defined the edge of the race track. No track limits violations to debate back then. “This was a great race between me and Jochen,” Sir Jackie says. “We were good friends, I could trust him and he could trust me. We passed each other often, and we knew we were going to pass so you’d put your hand out to indicate the other could get through. Then in the end something went wrong on the back wing of his Lotus. I pointed to it and he knew I wasn’t kidding, so he pulled in.”

His gaze falls on another shot, this time from 1968. It’s the Dutch GP, scene of his third grand prix win and first for Ken Tyrrell. “Zandvoort is a track I have mixed memories of – not because it was a bad circuit. It was a good track. But in later years it was not safe.” He doesn’t have to say the names Piers Courage and Roger Williamson for us to know what he’s thinking. “I was president of the Grand Prix Drivers’ Association and we took the Nürburgring out, we took Spa-Francorchamps out and we also had to take out Zandvoort. But it was the right thing to do. Safety was non-existent. Look where the people are in this picture. There’s not a single piece of proper barrier between them and the cars. Too dangerous.”

He’s right. Looking back is a familiar comfort, but there’s no time like the present. Which is why come British GP Sunday on July 6, you can bet your house Sir Jackie will be there, pressed and pristine ready for a quick chat for TV on the grid or in the paddock. It’s just what happens at Silverstone. And long may it continue.


Jackie Stewart portrait

Royals and the majestic

Among the gallery of photographs, at the head of the Stewart Room amid the Royal Automobile Club’s Pall Mall opulence, hangs a new portrait, above.

It depicts early 1970s Jackie Stewart acknowledging another win on the podium at Monaco. Below him, Lady Helen – all long hair and model good looks – offers her loving congratulations, and either side stands Formula 1’s literal royalty: Prince Rainier and turbaned wife Grace of Monaco, better known as Grace Kelly.

The artist, renowned portrait specialist Louise Pragnell, was commissioned specially by the RAC with the Stewart Room in mind. Jackie’s long hair means it’s definitely not a scene from his first F1 win in the principality in 1966 – but it’s not 1971 or ’73 either. Actually, it’s a composite, Pragnell using a variety of photos from different angles and years to create something unique. Pragnell, whose other works include portraits of Princess Anne, William Hague and, er, Jeremy Clarkson, has captured Jackie in his element. Set against the red and white of Monaco’s flag, it’s an image that couldn’t be more ‘Jackie Stewart’. DS

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The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Porsche’s 917 wasn’t a beacon of safety at the best of times, but its 1971 challenger stands as perhaps its most radical evolution. Stunning in its classic Martini Racing livery, beneath those stripes lay a car that pushed boundaries like never before. Now you can recreate the legend thanks to this new addition to the Pocher 1:8 kits range.

Founded in Italy 60 years ago and now part of the Hornby family, Pocher creates super-detailed recreations of some of history’s finest cars.

“At Pocher everything is bespoke, we don’t share a spec design or tooling with other model makers, and every model we create we do from scratch, with a very high level of authenticity,” says Charlotte Gowers, Pocher’s head of marketing. “We spent over two years creating the tooling for the 917 project, because everything has to be right.”

This particular 917, chassis 053, shared by Gijs van Lennep and Helmut Marko, took the car already nicknamed ‘a bomb on wheels’ to a whole new level of risk when the factory decided to trim weight by swapping out its usual aluminium chassis tubes for ones made from magnesium and pressurised with gas. Ultra-light and shedding 40kg, this construction did have the rather ominous downside of also being ultra-flammable, with a low ignition temperature and capable of burning to over 3000°C. The magnesium chassis was coupled to a 630bhp 4.9-litre flat-12 engine, and the driver surrounded by both fuel and oil tanks, all running hot. So it was a good thing the team simply didn’t tell van Lennep or Marko what they were driving.

Danger aside, the achievements of 917-053 were remarkable. It won by three clear laps and set a new distance record of 3315 miles at an average speed of 138mph, which would stand for almost 40 years before finally being broken in 2010.

After winning Le Mans, 917-053 was retired and has never been fired up since for fear of what it could do to the ageing chassis, which resides in Porsche’s museum.

Pocher’s version has 316 parts that combine for a 30-plus hour build time to create a detailed scale replica with working suspension and steering as well as opening doors.

Pocher 2025 Porsche Martini

Pocher’s lead engineer George Lane says: “We use high-quality, precisely manufactured parts, which reduces the likelihood of fit issues and makes assembly smoother. The model is designed in a somewhat modular fashion, breaking down the complex structure into manageable sub-assemblies. This allows the builder to tackle sections at a time, and means the model comes together in a similar way to the original vehicle being built, which is why the engine is a bit of a squeeze to fit in. Here’s a small thing: I like that we’ve made the cooling fan spin.”

And the best part, this one’s not a fire hazard…

Pocher 1:8 Porsche 917KH – Martini Edition, £809.99. uk.pocher.com

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The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

The success of a track test depends on the car, the environment and its owner. The car was Porsche 917 chassis 22, painted to look like its Le Mans-winning sister chassis 23. Its greatest claim to fame was to be camera car for the Steve McQueen Le Mans movie. The environment was a dry and deserted Silverstone, the owner you know.

Just like the winner, chassis 22 had a 4.5-litre engine and short tail – even so I thought 580bhp in a car weighing little more than 800kg enough to be getting on with. Richard Attwood took it out to shake it down, brought it back in and proclaimed it to be running perfectly. My turn.

I went out and did a couple of laps to get a feel for it. I was struck not just by the sound of the flat 12, but the lightness of the steering and the slow, methodical nature of the all-synchro gearbox.

Richard was waiting for me, looking impatient. He opened the door and said words to the effect of, “That won’t do at all. Get out there and have a proper go.”

So I did. I drove a 917 as fast as I could make it go. It has sprint gearing so I saw maximum revs in top gear – around 170mph – at least three times every lap. Once, getting greedy with the throttle at corner exit, I felt the tail start to slide wide. One instinctive corrective flick later we were back on course. Richard always said that over the winter of 1969/70 they turned the worst car he’d ever driven into the best; I could see why.

I returned to the pits to find Richard now grinning. “Quite something, isn’t it?” I wasn’t able to speak; I couldn’t believe what I’d just got to do. Over a quarter of a century later, part of me still can’t.

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The simply brilliant Brabham BT49: F1 track test

Richard Attwood strides into the pub, dapper as ever just days after his 85th birthday, and greets me with an enormous grin. The pub is significant, not for what, but where it is. When we were arranging our meeting he insisted on knowing the precise route I’d be taking from my home in the Wye Valley to his in the Midlands because he wanted to make sure it was as convenient for me as possible. If you know Richard, this will surprise you not in the very least.

Richard Attwood with Andrew Frankel

Attwood today, now aged 85, with Andrew Frankel

There’s so much we could be talking about. There is his unexplained escape from death towards the start of his top-level career, when during the 1965 Belgian Grand Prix he wrapped his Lotus 25 around a telegraph pole at the exit of the Masta Kink leaving him unharmed but entirely unable to extricate himself from the now banana-shaped Lotus until, that is, the whole thing went up in flames. “So I got out of the car,” he says, still entirely unable to say where the superhuman forces required to do so came from, other than his mortally threatened instinct to survive. Or his one-off return to Le Mans in 1984, 13 years after retirement, to race an Aston Martin Nimrod with John Sheldon and Mike Salmon which ended in another fire, this time putting the former in hospital with serious burns.

But while today’s subject is indeed Le Mans, we’re going to keep it to just three of his nine participations, when he was racing for the Porsche factory between 1969-71. Even so, I’m a touch concerned about the premise for this story, because if Richard doesn’t agree with it, we’re in trouble. So I think we’d better get it out the way nice and early.

“Would it be fair to say you should have won two of those races but didn’t, and should not have won one, but did?” I ventured.

Attwood thinks for a moment during which time I convince myself he’s composing the words with which to let me down gently before he says, “Yes, I think that is absolutely fair to say.”

After a sigh of relief, I ask him how he even found himself as a works Porsche driver.

Porsche’s Richard Attwood and Vic Elford leading 1969 Le Mans 24 Hours

Porsche’s Attwood and Vic Elford were leading in the 1969 Le Mans 24 Hours until a gearbox issue in the 22nd hour

“It started when I was asked to do a race at Watkins Glen in 1968, in a 908, because Porsche wanted to be represented by drivers from around the world. I was originally meant to share with Tetsu Ikuzawa but it didn’t work out like that. But even though we retired, it must have gone quite well because I was then asked to do the 1969 season for Porsche.”

He nearly didn’t accept because John Wyer wanted him in a GT40, but he figured it was already an ageing car and Porsche was always pushing the limits. He did not at the time perhaps appreciate just how far those limits would be pushed by a handy device the factory was working on called the 917…

“I knew the car was going to be a problem the moment I saw it”

But with the 917 not yet ready, Richard started his 1969 season at Daytona in what turned out to be three different 908s as he was shuttled from car to car as, one by one, they all broke. Sebring was a little better as sharing with Vic Elford they at least finished, albeit down in seventh place, delayed by a leaking oil tank, but second at Brands Hatch was much more like it and at Monza they were third in a train of works 908s when a puncture sent Vic into the barriers and out of the race.

The 917 made its debut at Spa but even the absurdly brave Jo Siffert refused to race it, leaving the honour to Gerhard Mitter who lasted precisely one lap before the engine blew, possibly much to his relief.

And so to Le Mans. Its stability problems still unresolved, despite its race-winning potential, the 917 was not exactly first choice among the factory drivers.

Elford, Richard Attwood, at La Sarthe in 1969

Elford, left, and Attwood, seated, at La Sarthe in 1969; afterwards a shattered Attwood felt glad to have survived his hours with the 917

“No one wanted to drive it. I thought it was probably my turn so accepted it when Porsche said I was to drive with Vic, and it was years later at Goodwood before Vic told me he’d asked if he could drive it with me. If I’d known I’d have backed out of it straight away. I only did it because it seemed to come straight from Porsche. I knew the car was going to be a problem the moment I saw it on a stand because it’s profile was almost identical to a long-tail 908, and that was absolutely on the limit of acceptable aerodynamic stability, and here was a car whose engine was half as large again. Flat out at Monza the 908 did 195mph. At Le Mans we were doing 235mph…

“I’d never driven anything like it, with that level of performance. The exhausts exited under my seat so I was deafened after two hours, my neck had gone and the bloody thing lasted for 21 hours. It was only meant to do six [that’s how long Porsche expected it would last]. An example. The Mulsanne kink was flat out. Not just flat, but easy flat. In anything. Not the 917. We were nowhere near flat in that. You had to ease off, get a bit of attitude on the car before you turned in, or else you get what happened to Digby.”

He’s referring to ace Chevron racer Digby Martland who was invited to share the first privateer 917, owned by John Woolfe. In practice he duly spun it at vast speed, somehow managed not to hit anything, drove slowly back to the pits and walked away not only from the car, but the race. He was replaced by the vastly experienced factory test driver Herbert Linge who begged Woolfe to let him take the start. Woolfe insisted on doing it himself and was killed before the first lap was completed. “Digby going home was one of the bravest decisions I ever saw a driver make,” Richard recalls.

Yet despite having to manage the car the entire time, it was so fast that with just two and a half hours to go it was four laps clear of the next quickest car when something in the transmission, the bellhousing or clutch, started to pack up. “You couldn’t get a gear so we had to call it a day.”

Le Mans in 1970, Porsche Richard Attwood and Herrmann

In atrocious conditions at Le Mans in 1970, Porsche reigned, winning all classes – including the overall race with this 917K, driven by Attwood and Herrmann

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But far from feeling desolate at being so cruelly robbed of such a hard-fought result, Richard felt only relief.

“By that stage I couldn’t have cared less about the win. All I knew was that it had been a nightmare, and now it was over.”

What he couldn’t have known at the time is that failure at Le Mans actually sowed the seed for his (and Porsche’s first) victory the following year.

“They [the factory] knew I’d given everything I had to give in that race. When it was over, I was finished. Spent. Total mental and physical exhaustion. I must have looked like death. But they thought I looked that way because I was so disappointed not to win the race, when in fact I was delighted. So that’s why I was told I could choose both the car and my team-mate for the following year. I don’t know that they’d ever done that.”

“In a car like that you just don’t want to be out in the wet”

I wonder how many drivers of that era would have just said, “Put me in your fastest car and give me your fastest co-driver”? Probably most, but not Richard. With both 4.9-litre and 4.5-litre engine capacities available he chose the smaller motor. When the choice came to a four or five-speed transmission, he chose four. Offered short or long-tail bodywork, he chose short. And of all the drivers on Porsche’s books, he opted for the 42-year-old Hans Herrmann not because he was Porsche’s fastest driver – with the best will in the world he was in the twilight of his career and nowhere near the level of a Jo Siffert or Pedro Rodriguez – but because Richard reckoned he’d likely be the most reliable. “I thought it might be quite nice to actually finish the race.”

But these were decisions made in February when he still considered the 4.9-litre engine in particular far from proven. Come June he realised he’d made a horrible mistake.

“I remember saying to [his wife] Veronica, ‘We have not got a chance in this race.’ After qualifying there were 14 cars in front of us. Our best lap was a dozen seconds off pole. You cannot tell me that they’re all going to fail. One of them, probably more, will get through for sure. I thought I’d made the biggest error of my life. It was a disaster.”

Porsche at La Sarthe, Richard Attwood and Herrmann 1970

Today we know that Porsche has won here at La Sarthe more than any other maker, but Attwood and Herrmann gave it its first win in 1970.

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He didn’t even consider the appallingly wet conditions that characterised much of the race gave them an advantage.

“It was just an added complication. And in a car like that you just don’t want to be out in the wet, and it was really, really wet. Besides, I think we were already leading when the worst of it came, so I can’t say we were relying on it.”

The race turned into a war of attrition of a kind that has rarely, if ever, visited the race before or since. Of the 51 cars that set off on Saturday afternoon, just seven had completed sufficient distance 24 hours later to be classified as finishers. But at their head, five laps clear of the field, came the Attwood/Herrmann, Salzburg-liveried 917.

“I’d had a good run so 1971 was really about winding down”

“Honestly, I thought it was ridiculous. There were so many great drivers in cars far faster than ours. If any of them had just stroked it along, they’d have won easily. They could have gone fast when it was dry and just back right off when it was wet.” That said, Richard does admit to finding himself unexpectedly busy in the Esses, with the 917 at a distinctly unorthodox angle of attack. “Could have ended it right there and then,” he muses. Still I think over a largely wet day and night in a 917, he can be forgiven one slip.

But as if winning Le Mans in a Porsche 917 in the wet were not enough of an achievement, Attwood did the entire race on a diet of milk.

‘I knew I was unwell because I couldn’t swallow. At the victory dinner I couldn’t stay awake and had to leave after 20 minutes.” Though he didn’t know it at the time, he was then and will almost certainly always remain the only driver to win the Le Mans 24 Hours while suffering from mumps.

Richard Attwood smiling

Attwood, Le Mans, ’70

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By the end of the season Richard already knew the next would be his last. “The time was right. I’d lost so many friends, I got married and I had responsibilities towards the family business. I’d had a good run, so 1971 was really about winding down for me.”

A good run indeed. While his Formula 1 career had never quite taken off, there were moments of brilliance, none more so than at Monaco in 1968 where he’d been drafted in to the BRM team to replace Mike Spence who’d tragically lost his life earlier in the month at Indianapolis. Driving a car he’d never raced before, having done a grand total of one world championship race since the end of 1965 (a one-off drive in a Cooper-Maserati at the 1967 Canadian Grand Prix) and in only his second race in a 3-litre Formula 1 car, Richard came second to Monaco master Graham Hill (racking up his fourth win), by just over 2sec with the next fastest car four laps down. And broke the outright lap record in the process. He’d won Le Mans and never seriously been hurt in what was surely motor-racing’s most dangerous era.

Which is why Le Mans was the first of just three races he’d do for Porsche in his valedictory year. Now racing for John Wyer’s factory team, this time there was no choosing car or co-driver: it was the full fat 4.9-litre, five-speed 917, with highly evolved, finned short-tail bodywork and the Swiss driver Herbie Müller to hand over to. Müller had by then already done Le Mans seven times but to date had only seen the flag once, driving for Scuderia Filipinetti back in 1964. Then again, it was also the only time to date he’d driven a Porsche there…

“It was a last-minute thing with John Wyer, because I think he was only going to run his two long-tail cars, then decided to make a third entry. Herbie had a reputation for being a bit of a wild child, so I sat him down before the race and told him we had to be sensible, that we were the third car but you never know how things will work out at Le Mans. I gave him a proper lecture and actually he drove perfectly.

“It was Pedro’s race. I just minded the shop while he took a break”

“And we should have won that race too because we had the gearbox jam in a gear. So I brought it in and they went to work. We couldn’t change the gearbox so they had to completely strip it down, find out what was wrong and repair it. And of course it was all red hot. It took around 40 minutes. Then the winning car had the same problem, but by now they knew what to do. They did it in something like half the time. We lost the race by five minutes…” The next quickest car was 29 laps down. It was the fastest Le Mans in history by a distance, the winning Martini 917 of Gijs van Lennep and Helmut Marko averaging over 138mph for the duration and thanks to the 3-litre formula introduced in 1972 and circuit changes, it was a record that was to stand for 39 years.

Richard did just two more races, winning the Österreichring 1000Kms, sharing with Pedro Rodriguez, though he is the first to say the victory belonged to his team-mate.

“Honestly, it was Pedro’s race. There had to be two drivers so I just minded the shop while he took a break. That was all I did.”

That race has gone down rivalling the Brands Hatch 1000Kms race the previous year as perhaps Rodriguez’s finest drive. Two weeks later he was dead. I remember Tony Southgate telling me, “We had this BRM sports car which we were going to race in the Interserie event at the Norisring. But we only had one engine and we blew it up on the dyno. I had to ring Pedro and say, ‘Very sorry, but we haven’t got a car for you to race.’ He replied, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve been offered £1500 to drive this Ferrari.’ Had that engine held, we might have had him for a little longer.”

Richard Attwood Le Mans in 1971, Herbert Müller in a John Wyer:Gulf 917K

Attwood was back at Le Mans in 1971, alongside Herbert Müller in a John Wyer/Gulf 917K; they’d finish second… but Attwood would return – in 1984

In the event, driving Herbie Müller’s Ferrari 512 M, he crashed, the car caught fire and that was that. Not that this in any way cemented Attwood’s decision to retire. He’d already made his mind up. He did the final race at Watkins Glen, the last time a factory 917 would contest a round of the World Sportscar Championship, and came third sharing with Derek Bell despite the latter having to jury rig a broken throttle cable at the side of the track. He was out. He had survived and never regretted his decision.

Today, Richard Attwood is as he has always been for all the years I’ve known him: thoughtful, considerate, kind, articulate and modest in a way you do not expect from pro racing drivers who’ve reached the top of their sport and, above all, bloody funny.

As we’re preparing to leave he suddenly stops and says, “Hang on, I’ve got something to show you…” He then produces an envelope and removes a sheet of headed paper, the name on the top familiar. It’s a handwritten letter of birthday wishes from Wolfgang Porsche, chairman of the Porsche supervisory board, son of Ferry Porsche and cousin of Ferdinand Piëch who designed the 917. I can tell by how carefully he is handling it how much it means to him that, 55 years after he helped deliver Porsche’s first win at Le Mans, it still matters enough to the company for him to be recognised in this way. Given what he went through in that race, and the same one the year before, it is absolutely appropriate that it should.