Many years ago, when I was a parts consultant for a restoration shop in Brazil, I had an interesting conversation with a customer about the things we wanted but we could not afford, mostly hot rod-related. This is how he wrapped up the talking: “You know what I will do? I will get on my knees and pray – God, You’ve got to give me the money I want or take away my good taste. ” I thought it was a good idea, and I have been doing it ever since, but with no use, the big guy up there won’t listen to me.
I am not implying that I have good taste; well, it is good according to my standards anyway. What I am trying to say is that life is full of things we want to have and things we can have.
Sony
When I was a kid, I asked my parents for a Sony Walkman for Christmas. Unfortunately, they bought me a cheaper brand that wasn’t even equipped with a K7 player. Sony became an iconic brand in the 1980s and 1990s and stayed in both my and my wife’s minds. When we eventually had to buy our first stereo system, laptop, and smart TV, we purchased Sony products.
Watches
Until the advent of cell phones, watches were a necessary daily tool, but now they have become nothing more than men’s jewelry. You can find a plethora of brands in the market, from the cheap and reliable Casio to the insanely expensive Rolex and Patek Philippe and everything in between.
My mom gave me my very first watch when I was nine years old; it was a Yema, a not-very well-known French brand. Unfortunately, I lost it, but I am seriously considering buying another one (pictured above) in honour of my mom’s choice. After all, watches are all about brand fidelity.
Cars and bikes
The guy who started this passion for cars in my family was my grandfather. He was an apprentice at a Ford dealership in my hometown in Brazil and then graduated as a technician. He worked there until he got enough experience to open his own repair shop, specializing in the iconic Ford V8 Flathead. Grampa used to say: – The best brand is brand new – showing little fidelity to Ford.
Among the dozens of cars my dad and I bought and sold through the years, no other brand was more present than Volkswagen; if it is affordable and reliable, it must be a good choice, right? Although for the last couple of years, Asian brands like Honda, Mazda, Nissan, and Hyundai have replaced VW. The picture above shows our daily driver at the moment, a 2013 Civic.
As a car guy, I could dream to have an exotic Italian or British sports car on my driveway, but I am a man of simple pleasures; a V8 Mustang would do it nicely, and it doesn’t need to be brand new. Maybe some day I will be able to make this dream come true.
Honda is the family’s favorite bike brand; in my life, I have owned a total of 4 motorcycles and 3 of them were Hondas. The picture above shows Felicia, the last bike I owned, a 2008 Honda Twister 250.
But then again, Honda is the brand I can, not the one I want. When I owned Felicia, I was saving money to buy a Harley-Davidson Sportster 883, just like the one above, but it never happened.
The Swedish factor
A few years ago, my wife bought a 2005 Volvo S40, and she fell in love with it. She likes to drive fast, and the 2.5 turbo engine plus the European-style tuned suspension gave her plenty of fun. Unfortunately, it was an old car when she bought it, with many miles on the clock; when the headaches of keeping it on the road overcame the joy of driving it, we had to sell the car. Estela was heartbroken because she wanted to replace it with a newer Volvo, but unfortunately, we couldn’t afford it.
Final consideration.
Life is surrounded by brands, and people can be truly passionate about them. A few examples would be: Apple, Tesla, and Nike. It makes sense, after all, the brands we love can tell a little bit about the person we are.
I am not wildly passionate about any of my favorite brands, but it is satisfying to see some of them involved with my favorite pastime, motorsports.
Reliable, stylish, affordable, and groundbreaking; no wonder this little Honda became one of the most popular bikes of the 1980s.
The perception of motorcycles varies across different cultures around the world. In developed countries, it is a vehicle used mainly as a hobby, but in poorer nations, a bike is the most affordable means of transportation one can buy.
With the popularization of motocross (among other forms of off-road competition) during the 1960s, motorcycle companies created the so-called dual-sport bikes (also called dual-purpose), a type of street-legal motorcycle that is designed for both on and off-road use.
It was a clever idea, allowing the customers to own a bike that could perform the mundane duties of a street bike during the week and also be used on light off-road adventures on weekends.
In 1968, Yamaha released the gorgeous DT-1, powered by a 250cc, 2-stroke, air-cooled engine. It was, basically, a dirt bike dressed to be street-legal. The DT was a competent machine on the trails but a bit rough on the streets, but it didn’t prevent the customers from falling in love with it. This new Yamaha made the dual-purpose bikes famous and the DT moniker an icon.
It took Honda 4 years to come up with an answer to the DT. In 1972, the company unveiled the XL 250, a dual-purpose bike developed from scratch that promised to revolutionize the segment, but this first generation fell a little short of expectations.
The XL was a pretty basic machine; the only cutting-edge component was the engine; the bike was powered by the first mass-produced 4-valve per-cylinder, 4-stroke motorcycle engine, which set the standards high for the entire industry.
Overall, the new XL was a bit heavy and awkward on the off-road, but it was a capable bike nevertheless. The new engine was not a brisk, rev-happy one, as Honda wished it to be, but at least it proved bulletproof and capable of taking the raider anywhere.
In 1979, Honda installed two counterbalancers to improve the XL’s engine and provide a smoother ride. The new engine can be easily recognized by the dual exhaust head pipes.
Another innovation was adopting the engine as a stressed member, making it a part of the frame. This new version was called XL 250S, and in the same year, the XL 500S was released.
The definitive XL
In the early 1980s, the dual-purpose motorcycle segment became popular, and the competition was fierce. Honda was determined to make the XL stand out. In 1982, the company introduced the XL 250R, a bike equipped with the innovative mono-shock pro-link rear suspension inherited from the motocross/enduro XR 250. To complete the package, the 23-inch front wheel was replaced by a 21-inch and 12-volt electric system was adopted.
Honda was confident that the new XL was good enough to conquer the world, and in fact, the bike became a global success.
Here are some XL’s specs:
Engine: 249cc mono cylinder, four-stroke, air-cooled, 4-valve driven by a single camshaft. 22 HP (SAE).
6-speed gearbox
Drum brake front and rear
Weight: 131 Kilos (289 pounds)
Wheels: 21″ front – 17″ rear
Fuel capacity: 8.7 liters (2.3 gallons)
The success of the XL 250 encouraged Honda to expand the family. Some markets worldwide saw smaller versions, like 80cc and 125cc and bigger as well, like 350cc, 500cc, and 600cc.
Honda kept the recipe unchanged throughout 1987, the last production year for the American and European markets.
The XL in South America.
In 1982, the Brazilian division of Honda began manufacturing the XL 250R. Despite being just 13 years old at the time, I vividly remember the excitement surrounding this new bike. At that time, the import of motorcycles was still banned, and customers would eagerly awaited the release of new models from local companies.
A year before Yamaha released the DT 180 and throughout the 1980s, both bikes became the dream machines of cool kids who were either adventurous or wanted to be seen as adventurous.
Life is full of rivalries: liberals vs. conservatives, Coke vs. Pepsi, blondes vs. brunettes, Mustang vs. Camaro, but none of these subjects could incite a more passionate debate among the Brazilian teens in the 1980s than XL vs. DT. I always leaned toward the DT, mostly because of my weird sympathy for two-stroke engines, but we all knew the XL was a superior bike overall.
In 1987, Honda unveiled the XLX 350R, and with a bigger displacement engine came the front disc brake, which Honda stubbornly denied for so many years.
Honda shut down the XL production in Brazil in 1992, which was a sensible decision since around this time, the ban on imported vehicles was lifted, and customers had access to more advanced imported bikes.
As a high school kid with no steady job, I never had the means to buy a Yamaha DT or a Honda XL; they were both just a distant dream. I spent the 1980s riding whatever I could put my hands on, mostly mopeds and 125cc bikes, and inevitably looking with envious eyes every time a guy passed by riding an XL.
For my generation, this bike became a staple of that magic era; when I look back to the 80s, I see so many things that I miss dearly, like Wayfarer sunglasses, Tears for Fears, Atari video games, and the Honda XL 250.
Writer, poet, illustrator, pilot, and above all, a romantic guy regarding most aspects of life. Antoine de Saint-Exupery was blessed with quite a few qualities when he came to this world.
Saint-Ex, as friends and family knew him, became famous thanks to his book The Little Prince, a deceiving work that seems intended for children, but holds inside a rather deep analysis of life and human nature.
Because of The Little Prince, which can be considered his masterpiece, the name Saint-Exupery always floated around when the conversation was about books, either at school or at the local library. The name was familiar, but I had never read any of his works until the early 1990s. One day my wife and I (my girlfriend at the time) were wandering through the aisles of the public library (similar to surfing the net in the pre-internet era) when I found a little book entitled Piloto de Guerra (War Pilot, in Portuguese), needless to say, I grabbed the book, took it home and read it in 2 days. To be fair, it is a short book, but I read it wishing it would never end.
The book is a personal account of a single reconnaissance mission he flew over the town of Arras not long after the German invasion of France. As a master storyteller, Saint-Ex condenses months of the futile fight against a more powerful and skilled enemy into one terrifying mission.
At the beginning of the war, he was assigned to Reconnaissance Group II/33 flying the twin-engine Bloch MB.170. The French Air Force had no more than fifty reconnaissance crews, twenty-three of which served in Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s Group. After only a few days, seventeen of the crews in his unit had already perished.
The book is filled with human emotions, fear, frustration, friendship, and anger, but also with philosophy. With the French military in shambles, he sees the missions as a waste of human lives, “like glasses of water thrown onto a forest fire”.
Perhaps I should refrain from revealing more details and encourage you to read the book.
The book was initially published in 1942, the first time I read a copy of the 1951 edition. The English title, Flight to Arras, though relevant to the story, does not have the same impact as the original title. In my opinion, a direct translation would have been more appropriate for the work.
That is my copy of the book. I bought it online and for some reason, it traveled from the USA to Australia before arriving in Brazil; and I brought it with me when I moved to Canada. It certainly has quite a few hours of flight, perhaps it is a good homage to the author. I have read it more times than I care to count and I believe the time to read it again is near.
It could have been a Wednesday, or a Friday, but not a Sunday.
Sitting on the driveway, brake parts scattered around me. And then the sound.
POM POM POM POM…
I remember this sound, I know what it is.
POM POM POM POM…
I close my eyes. I am not listening… I am feeling it.
POM POM POM POM…
And I am back to 1988…
Hardly moving through the marshes.
The glorious sun… burning my skin. Just like today, on this driveway.
With my eyes closed, I look around… Ohata, Jean Claude, Carli, and Ortega, I see them all… My company.
POM POM POM POM…
Carrying our rifles like crosses, drinking warm beer from our canteens, and shouting profanities at the pilot, like he could hear it.
And laughing like kids… because we were.
Hardly moving through the marshes.
POM POM POM POM…
It is close now.
I open my eyes, scanning the skies… here it comes.
POM POM POM POM…
Bastard! Can’t you see it? That I am still…
Hardly moving through the marshes.
Author’s note: Poetry is the art of putting in words the deepest feelings of the soul. Anger, love, fear, passion, frustration, joy, and sadness, all of them can be expressed by a stroke of a pen, and if the poem reaches the readers in a way that makes them feel something close to what the poet felt, then it can be considered a success. Some poems are written with much less noble intentions and are not meant to be profound. Those poems illustrate more frivolous situations, which is the case here. This silly attempt to make poetry tells us about a summer day in 2001, in Kennesaw, GA, when I was replacing brake pads on an old Toyota I owned, and I heard a Bell HU-1 approaching. The sound brought me some memories of an exercise day when I was in the Brazilian Air Force Infantry.
I started writing “Huey” during my English classes in 2001 but never finished it. Now, 23 years later, I think it is done.
Old movies are the closest thing we have to a time machine. They can bring us back to a time when life was simpler, and people were more authentic. Every movie lover has a list of their favorite classics and, consequently, their favorite actors and actresses. During the glory days of Hollywood, Bogart was the intense one, Grant was the funny guy, Dean was the rebel, but there was an actor who could play the everyday guy like no other, James Stewart.
Jimmy, as he was known by friends and fans worldwide, made his trademark on the silver screen as the quintessential All-American dude, pouring his easy-going persona into most of the characters he played. He built one of the most successful and enduring careers in film history and became a symbol of Hollywood golden age.
James Maitland Stewart was born in Indiana, Pennsylvania, on May 20, 1908. Growing up as a typical small-town boy, he cultivated values he would carry throughout his life. He went to Princeton and got a degree in architecture, but thanks to the depression, he had difficulty finding a job in the field. With limited options on the horizon, Stewart accepted an invitation from a friend to help prepare shows for Broadway.
Jimmy singing his heart out in his Princeton days.
Jimmy fell in love with show business, and soon, he started on Broadway with small parts, and later on to leading roles until Hollywood found him.
His first movie appearance was in a supporting role in The Murder Man (1935), but his breakthrough only happened in 1938, when he starred in Frank Capra’s comedy You Can’t Take It With You. From that moment, Stewart’s career skyrocketed.
It doesn’t get any better than that: Jimmy Stewart, Cary Grant, and Katharine Hepburn in the 1940 The Philadelphia Story.
He received his first Academy nomination in 1939 for his role in Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, and the following year, he won the Oscar for Best Actor for his performance in George Cukor’s romantic comedy, ThePhiladelphia Story.
Reporting for duty
By the time Jimmy’s career was flying high in Hollywood, the war was raging across the Atlantic. Hitler seemed unstoppable in his quest to conquer the entire Europe, and even if Roosevelt promised that the USA would not intervene in war, many people knew that it would be just a matter of time for the Americans to join the fight.
Stewart came from a family with deep military roots: both of his grandfathers had fought in the Civil War, and his father had served during both the Spanish–American War and World War I. He saw the threat of fascism in Europe as the perfect opportunity to keep this family tradition alive and in 1940, to the dismay of his bosses at Metro Goodwin Mayer, he asked to put his career on hold, while answering a much higher call.
Jimmy enlisted in the US Army in November 1940 but was rejected for not meeting the minimum weight. Besides being a talented actor, Stewart was a licensed commercial pilot with quite a few flying hours under his belt, and he thought his resume would help him to be accepted into the military. He enlisted as a private in the Air Corps on March 22, 1941.
Jimmy’s application for aviation cadet training was rejected, this time due to his age. At almost 33 years old, he was way beyond the age limit. However, the USAAF found a way around this hurdle by applying him for an Air Corps commission as a college graduate and a licensed commercial pilot. On January 1, 1942, Stewart was commissioned as a second lieutenant, less than a month after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor.
MGM kept Jimmy under contract, his bosses were confident that the army would not put him in harm’s way, and at the end of the war, he would return to Hollywood safe and sound. The USAAF quickly took advantage of his celebrity status, they scheduled him to appear on a radio program called “We Hold These Truths,” which celebrated the United States Bill of Rights. Jimmy also appeared in a short movie produced by the USAAF in 1942 called “Winning Your Wings“, which was nominated for the Oscar for Best Documentary in the same year. According to some estimates, the movie helped to recruit 150,000 new soldiers.
The 703rd Bomb Squadron patch.
Stewart was not happy with his role in the war so far, he wanted to fight and requested to be deployed to the front lines instead of given desk jobs. He was then sent to the Kirtland Army Airfield in New Mexico to receive training as a bomber pilot. After completing the course, he was assigned to the 29th Bombardment Group to fly the B-24 Liberator on antisubmarine patrols in the Caribbean Sea. The idea was to allow him to get used to this new, state-of-the-art heavy bomber before sending him to Europe. Stewart was then sent to England as a member of the 703rd Bomb Squadron, 445th Bomb Group, initially based at RAF Tibenham and later to RAF Old Buckenham.
The bombing campaign.
– “No enemy aircraft will ever cross Germany’s borders” – Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring, Commander of the Luftwaffe.
If Jimmy Stewart wanted to see action, the US Army sent him to the right place. British bombing against German cities started as early as 1940, proving that the promise made by the buffoon Göring was just empty words, but it was only when the US joined the effort in 1942 that the campaign became effective.
A B-24 from the 703rd Squadron arrives at the base after a mission.
The American bombers, specifically the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress and the Consolidated B-24 Liberator, were equipped with heavier defensive armaments than the British Avro Lancaster. For this reason, the USAAF was responsible for carrying out the “precision” daytime bombing, deep into enemy territories. While, in theory, extensive formations of bombers flying close to each other would provide an effective defensive fire against the enemy fighters, the reality was far different. The German pilots quickly learned to exploit the vulnerable points of the American bombers, such as attacking them head-on or from below.
The German fighters were not the only challenge faced by the crew members during their missions, as most of the strategic targets were heavily defended by anti-aircraft batteries. This resulted in heavy losses at the beginning of the campaign. The odds of surviving combat were so low that if a crew member managed to pull through for three weeks, he was already considered a veteran. At some point, the USAAF contemplated halting the missions to stop the unnecessary loss of their personnel. However, the arrival of the long-range fighters, the P51 Mustang and the P47 Thunderbolt, brought some hope as they offered a decent level of protection against the enemy fighters.
Jimmy goes to war
Standing fourth from left, Jimmy Stewart is photographed with officers of the U.S. Army Air Forces 703rd Bombardment Squadron.
It is evident that Jimmy’s celebrity status played a significant role in the Army’s decision to accept him.The Air Force saw the actor as the perfect war bonds salesman. However, Jimmy had different plans and aspirations in mind. He desired to serve his country and fight on the front lines, just like any other drafted individual.
Stewart loved airplanes. As a young boy, he saved money from his paper route to ride in a biplane after spending weeks convincing his mother it was safe. After graduating from Princeton, he took flying lessons and got private and commercial licenses. As a B-24 pilot, he was doing what he loved the most and also doing his part in defeating the Nazi regime.
Crew members of the 445th bomb group are removing a .50 cal Browning machine gun from a B-24, most likely for maintenance.
Stewart’s experience as a commercial pilot usually granted him the responsibility of squadron leader. His baptism of fire happened on December 13, 1943, when the 445th flew its first combat mission, a strike on the U-boat pens at Kiel. Stewart led the group’s high squadron, taking them over the target at 27,000 feet.
His next mission was to Bremen on December 16, when he, once again, flew as lead pilot for the 445th Group.
German soldiers are seen here taking a V1 flying bomb to the launching rails. Pas de Calais, France.
On the night of Christmas Eve, Stewart led his group on a mission against German rocket-launching sites in the Pas de Calais, France. With over 2,000 bombers and fighters participating, it was the largest Eighth Air Force mission of the war up to that point.
A true leader
On January 7, 1944, Stewart took the 445th Group on a mission to Ludwigshafen. As they departed the target area, he realized that the group he was following, the 389th, was 30 degrees off course. He called the leader aircraft and informed the captain of his error, but the officer insisted they were on course. Stewart knew that the course was wrong and was taking both groups away from the protection of the main formation. At this moment, Jimmy faced the hardest decision of his career as a bomber pilot; he could have corrected his course and brought his bombers to the protection of the main formation, leaving the stubborn Captain and his group alone to face their fate. Instead, he radioed the other group leader, saying that for better or for worse, he was sticking with him.
Stewart knew that two groups flying together had a better chance of surviving the fighters than one group alone. As he had feared, the German radar operators noticed that the two groups had separated from the bomber stream and vectored several squadrons of fighters to attack them. They were approximately 30 miles south of Paris when around 60 Luftwaffe fighters came in for the attack. Following the standard procedure, the first wave of BF-109 came head-on, and the first B-24 shot down was the one whose navigator had made the mistake. An intense battle followed, and by the time when the Germans left the scene with low fuel and ammo, 17 Liberators were brought down. Amazingly, none of them belonged to Jimmy’s group.
A proud B-24 gunner in full combat gear poses before his aircraft. The marks painted on the fuselage tell the impressive resume of this machine. The bombs represent the number of missions, and the swastikas are the number of enemy fighters shot down by the crew.
Colonel Milton W. Arnold, the 389th commander, sent a letter to the 445th commander, Colonel Robert H. Terrill, commending Stewart for his actions. Shortly after the mission, Stewart was promoted to major.
The Machine
“The Dragon and its Tail” B-24. I had the privilege to see this aircraft up close when it visited the McCollum Field Airport, Kennesaw GA, in 2004.
When Jimmy Stewart arrived in England, the USAAF had just started to phase out its old workhorse, the Boeing B-17 Flying Fortress. The new Liberator could fly higher, faster, and carry a heavier payload.
B-24 Consolidated B-24 Liberator
-Engine: 4 x Pratt & Whitney R-1830 Twin Wasp, radial 14 cylinder (2 rows of 7 cylinder), air-cooled, turbo and supercharged, rated at 1200 hp each.
Max speed: 297 mph (478 km/h, 258 kn) at 25,000 ft (7,600 m)
Range: 1,540 mi (2,480 km) at 237 mph cruise speed (381 km/h) @ 25,000 ft (7,600 m) and maximum internal bomb load.
Armament: 10 × .50 caliber M2 Browning machine guns in 4 turrets and two waist positions.
Crew: 11 airmen – pilot, co-pilot, navigator, bombardier, radio operator, nose turret, top turret, two waist gunners, ball turret, and tail gunner.
Not the prettiest airplane in the Air Force arsenal, for sure.
The Liberator was an overall better aircraft than the beloved B-17; after all, numbers don’t lie, but many pilots and crew members didn’t like to see the old Fortress go, including Jimmy: “In combat, the airplane was no match for the B-17 as a formation bomber above 25,000 feet, but from 12,000 to 18,000, it did a fine job.” Said the major.
A highly decorated officer
Stewart was the first high-profile Hollywood star to join the military in WWII. Perhaps the only actor who could match his popularity that followed the same path was Clark Gables, who lacked the skills of a pilot and became a B-17 gunner. From 1943 to 1944, Jimmy flew 20 combat missions, (and probably just as many as a replacement pilot) as commanding officer of the 703rd Bomber Squadron, 445th Bombardment Group.
Major Stewart, as a squadron operations officer, discusses a mission with a bomber crew, in the spring of 1944.
In 1945, the USAAF promoted him to operations officer and later to Chief of Staff, keeping their most notorious major on the ground as much as possible. Perhaps they realized it would be a shame to lose the guy when the Germans were so close to being defeated. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross for actions as deputy commander of the 2nd Bombardment Wing, the French Croix de Guerrewith palm, and the Air Medal with three oakleaf clusters.
Stewart was a man of unshakable principles. He was regarded as a skilled and trustworthy commander by the guys who served under him and he will always be remembered for keeping his coolness under fire. When Jimmy returned home in the fall of 1945, he had already been promoted to colonel. The man never used his WWII service to promote himself; he always tried to keep his distance from the reporters while he served in England.
The post-war years
Stewart picked up his career in Hollywood where he had left. In 1950 he received his fourth Academy Award nomination as well as his first Golden Globe nomination for his role in the movie Harvey. Jimmy became one of Hitchcock’s favorite actors and played the main role in the 1954 Rear Window, and the 1958 Vertigo.
But the guy loved the Air Force so much that he never left. He went to the USAF reserve and completed his transition training to the Convair B-36 Peacemaker and the iconic Boeing B-52. In 1955 Jimmy played a reserve Air Force officer who was called back for active duty, in the movie Strategic Air Command.
Brigadier General James M. (“Jimmy”) Stewart, USAFR (center) with the crew of B-52F Stratofortress 57-149, at Anderson Air Force Base, Guam, 20 February 1966. On this day, Jimmy flew his last mission as an Air Force officer.
Stewart was first nominated for promotion to brigadier general in February 1957; however, his promotion was initially opposed by Senator Margaret Chase Smith. At the time of the nomination, the Washington Daily News gave him a little push: “He trains actively with the Reserve every year. He’s had 18 hours as first pilot of a B-52.” On July 23, 1959, Stewart finally got promoted to brigadier general, becoming the highest-ranking actor in American military history. During the Vietnam War, he flew as a non-duty observer in a B-52 on an Arc Light bombing mission in February 1966.
He served in the Air Force for 27 years and officially retired on May 31, 1968, when he turned 60, the mandatory retirement age. He was honoured with the United States Air Force Distinguished Service Medal upon his retirement. Although Stewart rarely talked about his wartime service, he did appear in an episode of the British television documentary series The World at War (1974), where he commented on the disastrous 1943 mission against Schweinfurt, Germany.
Jimmy Stewart and his wife Gloria McLean.
Stewart had a brilliant and prolific career in Hollywood, but in the 1970s, he developed a hearing impairment, which affected his ability to hear his cues and led to him repeatedly flubbing his lines; his vanity would not allow him to admit this or wear a hearing aid. His last movie was the 1980 The Green Horizon, directed by Susumu Hani.
Jimmy married Gloria Hatrick McLean in 1949 when he was already in his 40s. The couple stayed together for 44 years until Gloria succumbed to lung cancer in 1994, and after her death, Stewart became depressed and secluded. In December 1996, he was due to have the battery in his pacemaker changed but opted not to have that done, allowing things to follow a more natural path.
The guy who embodied the righteousness and courage of the Greatest Generation, not only behind the cameras but in real life as well, died of a heart attack caused by an embolism at the age of 89, surrounded by his children at his home in Beverly Hills, on July 2, 1997. Family members, friends, fans, Hollywood celebrities, and military personnel, all together, a crowd of more than 3,000 people attended his funeral. He was buried at Forest Lawn Memorial Park in Glendale, California.
Hollywood icon, war hero, entrepreneur, philanthropist… during his time among us, Jimmy lived many different lives, but perhaps the worlds of President Bill Clinton at the time of Jimmy’s death encapsulate his persona: – “America had lost a national treasure, a great actor, a gentleman and a patriot”. –
– In 1969, a team of Argentine racers, led by Juan Manuel Fangio, won one of the most gruesomeendurance racesever, driving an unlikely race car. This is their story.
No, it is not a typo. The first time I came across this amazing story, I also thought: ” You mean 24 Hours of Nürburgring… Right?!?!”. Actually, no!!! The race, in fact, extended for 84 excruciating hours. Three and a half uninterrupted days of racing, in the rain, and fog. 84 hours of praying for the drivers and the mechanics to stay awake and to keep their sanity. And of course, praying for the cars not to fall apart.
To understand the scope of this Argentine achievement, we must understand the 3 most important components of this adventure: the race in which they competed, the boss who was in charge, and the car they raced.
The race
The concept of endurance racing was born more as a test bench for the automakers than as a motorsport genre per se. During the automobile’s infancy, between the 1910s and 1920s, the most popular form of endurance racing was rally, after all, there is no better laboratory for auto brands to test their products than the roads used by daily drivers.
In 1931, the Marathon de la Route was created, as a series of road rallies crossing the European continent and beyond. The longest chapter was a 3,500 km, non-stop round trip from Liege, Belgium to Rome, Italy, and back (later it became Liege-Sophia-Liege). Obviously, the race was not completely “non-stop” since drivers needed to be replaced and cars needed to be refueled, but the pit stops should not exceed 30 min. After WWII the number of cars, trucks, and buses increased considerably around the world and some countries started to impose restrictions on auto racing on public roads. The 84 Hours of Nürburgring was created in 1965 as a safer replacement for those long-duration rallies.
The beautiful Mazda Cosmo, being refueled during the very first 84 Hours of Nurburgring, in 1965.
Although not nearly as glamorous as the other endurance races and mostly unknown to modern race fans, the 84 Hours of Nürburgring was extensively used by automakers to test their products. It was held between 1965 and 1971 and was intended for production cars only.
Now that we know a little about the race, it is time to talk about the most important element in the Argentine team, their boss.
Fangio
Fangio in his Ferrari – 1956
If you ever see a list of “The best Formula One drivers of all time” and you can’t find Fangio among the top 5, just throw the list in the garbage.
Juan Manuel Fangio began his racing career in Argentina in 1936, driving a 1929 Ford Model A that he had rebuilt in his own repair shop. After winning everything possible in South America in the 1940s, Fangio crossed the Atlantic, seeking more racing glory in the Old Continent. He had the honour of participating in the first Formula-One championship in 1950, racing for Alfa Romeo. At 39, he was considered way too old for a rookie in the European Grand Prix universe, but in the following years, Fangio proved that age is, in fact, just a number. He won nothing less than five world titles: 1951 (Alfa Romeo), 1954 (Maserati), 1955 (Mercedes-Benz), 1956 (Ferrari), and 1957 (Maserati).
Fangio retired from professional racing in 1958 while he was still on top. His status as a living legend allowed him to navigate freely not only around the international racing community but also through the corridors of many automakers in Europe and South America. With all his connections and influence, there wouldn’t be a better person to lead the Argentine team in this adventure.
Now we must talk about the third component of this enterprise, the car.
The Argentine Torino
Right after WWII, some countries in South America were willing to show the world that they could produce more than agricultural goods. Brazil, Argentina, Venezuela, and Chile were gearing up to make all sorts of machinery, ships, and trains, but no other machine could ignite the pride of a nation as much as a car. During the 1950s and 1960s, many European and American automakers answered the call and opened factories in South America, lured by the prospects of a booming economy in the region. Some small brands struggling in their home countries saw this as an opportunity to strive in a less crowded and less competitive market.
In 1956, Industrias Kaiser Argentina S.A. (mostly known as IKA) was founded, as a joint venture with the American Kaiser Motors. The company produced a variety of Kaiser/Jeep vehicles and the AMC Rambler. In 1967 Renault started a slow process of acquisition of IKA, which ended in 1970.
By the early 1960s, IKA wanted a car that could stand out from competitors, something like a sports coupe. Since the budget for this new project was short (welcome to South America), the company had to do it with an off-the-shelf product.
IKA sent two 1964 AMC Rambler to Pininfarina, one coupe and one 4 doors, and asked them to transform it into something beautiful. The changes performed by the Italians were minimal, perhaps the idea was to save as much money as possible on new tooling. The result was an elegant car with an unequivocal European charm.
Under the hood, things got a little more complicated. With no money for a brand-new engine, IKA depended on the ancient Kaiser/Jeep 226 CID flathead, in-line six engines. This is not the kind of machinery anyone would expect to see powering a car with GT aspirations, but thankfully, the team had some money left for a few upgrades.
Kaiser Chief Engineer A.C. “Sammy” Sampietro designed an aluminum SOHC, hemi head, that improved immensely the breathing capability of the engine. IKA offered a 3 litre (183 CID) – 120 HP as the entry-level mill and a 3.7 litre (230 CID) – 150 HP as the performance option. The new engine was called Tornado.
IKA also redesigned the awkward Rambler’s rear suspension, giving the car better handling. Closing the mechanical package, the engine was bolted to a trustworthy ZF four-speed manual transmission (a 3-speed auto tranny could be special ordered). The car was christened Torino and released in 1966 (2 years before Ford released their Torino).
The IKA Torino was an instant hit. The car boosted the company’s sales and gave it enough firepower to face the big dogs Ford, Dodge, and Chevy.
Later on, the team improved the engine block, increasing the number of main bearings from 4 to 7, allowing them to squeeze more power from the Tornado safely. The high-performance version of the Torino called 380 W, had a more aggressive camshaft, higher compression ratio, and three side draft Weber carbs, kicking the power output to 250 HP.
The “W” Torino proved to be a competent race car and started to collect victories on race tracks in Argentina and all over South America.
Even if the Torino was heavily based on the AMC Rambler, the Argentinians always saw it as a 100% domestic creation. The car became the pride of the country, a symbol of the nation’s industrial ingenuity. When the idea of an Argentinian race team competing in Europa started to gain momentum, they knew this team couldn’t be driving anything other than the Torino.
La Mission Argentina
The idea of “Win on Sunday, sell on Monday” was, and still is, widely used by the South American auto industry. In the 1960s, every automaker had its own official race team, and the drivers would wear the brand’s logo as proudly as a soccer player would wear his team’s jersey. When the rumours that Fangio was assembling a race team to compete in Europe, everybody jumped in. Even the head of General Motors in Argentina called Fangio to wish him good luck.
The idea of choosing the 84 Hours of Nürburgring is easy to understand. First, it was an endurance race intended for production cars only, with no sports prototypes stealing the show; the team had an excellent chance to score a good result. Second, Fangio had won there three times (1954, 1956, and 1957), which means he knew all the tricks to tame the “Green Inferno.”
The Wizard
Orestes Berta – circa 1971
What makes a street car become a race car is much more than the collection of high-performance parts installed in it; it is the talent of the people who installed them. In 1966, IKA had the privilege to hire a guy who was, perhaps, the most talented race engineer in South America, Orestes “The Wizard” Berta. By the time this idea of racing in Nürburgring came, he had already made the Torino a National Champion in 1967.
Berta, as the team’s chief engineer, prepared 3 Torinos for this adventure. Surprisingly, the cars were pretty close to the stock 380 W. The idea was not to make them super fast but super reliable. The vehicles received the numbers 1, 2, and 3, and as you can see in this picture, the front facia of each Torino was painted in a different colour, making it easy for the pit crew to identify them.
The Drivers
Fangio called only the best Argentinian drivers to be part of the team. Even his son, Oscar Fangio, was drafted.
Torino #1: Carmelo Gabalto, Oscar Fangio, and Rubén Luiz de Palma.
Torino #2: Gaston Perkins, Rodríguez Canedo, and Jorge Cupiero.
Torino #3: Rodríguez “Larry” Larrreta, Eduardo Copello, and Oscar Mauricio Franco.
Let the adventure begin
In July, Orestes Berta and his team of 6 technicians traveled to Hamburg, Germany to receive the Torinos. From there, they transferred the cars and equipment to the city of Chaudfountaine, in Belgium, for the symbolic start of the race, in July 30. The teams had 4 hours to reach the race track in Nürburg – Germany. This first stage of the race was a homage to its original format as a rally, and it was intended to be more like a parade than a competition since 4 hours is more than enough time to cover the 157 km that separates the two cities. To curb the drivers’ enthusiasm, every traffic ticket would be rewarded with a 5-lap penalty during the race.
The Argentinians had no problem reaching Nürburgring at 1 a.m. of the same day.
The course was the combined loop of the Nordschleife and the now-abandoned Südschleife. Each lap covers a total of 28 kilometres. The Torinos would face formidable opponents like Lancia Fulvias, Porsche 911s, BMW 2002s, and Ford Capris.
Besides the lack of international experience of the Argentinians, something else caught the attention of the other teams. The Torinos, with their muscle car appearance, seemed to be an unfair adversary against the diminutive European sports cars that dominated the field. Rumour has it that Fangio influenced the directors to create the Above 3000cc class to accommodate the Argentinian vehicles that year. A total of 65 cars started the race on August 19th.
Racing under heavy fog, the 3 Torinos had little problem leading the race during the first 6 hours. Gaston Perkins, at the wheel of the #2 Torino, was dictating the pace with an average of 13 minutes per lap @ 125 km/h. Unfortunately, it started raining during the night, and at lap 41, Cupiero lost control of the #2 and crashed it.
The #3 Torino, under heavy rain.
After 12 hours, the best Torino was the #3, with Copelo at the wheel, fighting the Fulvias for the lead. At the 16-hour mark, the Lancias were penalized and the Argentinians took a 1-2 lead.
During the night of the second day, the Torino #1 had electrical problems, and with no lights, Di Palma crashed the car. Now, the hopes of the team (and the whole South American continent) were on the surviving vehicle.
Oscar Franco, fixing the exhaust of his car.
After 53 hours, the Torino #3 led the race when Franco had to pull into the pits with a hanging exhaust. Following the rules of the rally, the driver had to perform the repair without the help of the mechanics. He fixed it as best as possible, but the track marshals suspected the car was still making too much noise, above the allowed 83 decibels. Later on, the race director applied a six-lap penalty because of the loud exhaust.
Fangio’s Tango
With “only” 20 hours left, Larry pulled the Torino again into the pits to have the brake pads replaced. The poor driver was having difficulty performing the task, and Orestes Berta panicked, shouting instructions to the driver (which was against the rules). One of the track marshals had to intervene, asking Berta to shut up. As the situation was becoming desperate, Fangio had a stroke of brilliance; he started to dance and sing in a loud voice what seemed to be a tango when, in reality, he was singing instructions to his driver. Larry finished the job and rushed back to the race—pure genius.
Within 10 hours left to the end of the race, the #3 was in fifth place overhaul, but a Ford Capri leading the race had to retire with a blown engine, giving one position to the Argentinians.
Calm down, mihermano.
After 82 hours of blood, sweat, and tears, only 28 cars were still racing. Franco, at the wheel of the surviving Torino, decided to drop the hammer and fight for the P3. Berta and Fangio rushed to the fence and instructed him to slow down to save fuel and the whole car as well. It would be better to finish the race in P4 than not finishing at all.
At the 84-hour mark on August 22, with most of the surviving cars falling apart and the drivers and crew members on the verge of a nervous breakdown, the race finally ended. Oscar Franco had the honour of receiving the checkered flag for the team.
This is the final standing:
First place: Lancia Fulvia, driven by Kallstrom – Barbasio – Fall – 322 laps
Second place: BMW 2002, driven by Duchting – Scheider – Degen – 318 laps
Third place: Triumph TR6, driven by Barbara – Carpentier – Duvachel – 315 laps
Fourth place: IKA Torino 380 W, driven by Copello – “Larry” – Franco – 315 laps
Fifth place: Mazda Cosmo, driven by De Fierlant – Enever – Kelleners – 311 laps
According to the records, the Argentinians finished the race with 334 laps, which would have given them the overhaul victory. Still, the team was penalized for the loud exhaust and for taking a longer than 30-minute pit stop (probably during the brake pads tango episode).
Among the crew, feelings were mixed. They were happy to finish such a gruesome race among the top 5, but at the same time, they were deeply sad for watching some silly technicalities take away the overhaul victory.
Fangio, sensing the frustration in the air, called the team and asked them:
“But tell me one thing, brothers – If you had been told in Argentina that we were going to lead half of the race and that we would finish fourth – Would you have believed?”
And let’s not forget they took home the Above 3-litre trophy, but since no one else was racing in that class, it doesn’t count much.
Upon their return, the team was received as heroes. They proved that the Argentine industry could produce a GT car not only good enough to be among Europe’s finest but also beat them on their own turf.
Final thoughts
Fangio raced during the most dangerous period in the history of Formula One and survived to tell the story of his five world championships. He spent his retirement involved with the one thing he loved the most: motorsports. If this is not a life lived to the fullest, nothing else is. Fangio was inducted into the International Motorsports Hall of Fame in 1990, and he died five years later at his home in Buenos Aires at the age of 84.
Orestes Berta left IKA a couple of years after the race in Nürburgring to dedicate himself to full-time racing. His engineering company, Orestes Berta S.A., became one of the most important centers of motorsport development in South America.
In 1970, Renault assumed control of IKA, but they kept the iconic Torino in production, (pretty much untouched) for as long as they could. The last one left the assembly line in 1982.
As for the three white warriors of 69, they went through an extensive restoration and can often be seen brightening some important automotive events in Argentina. They remind the younger generations what a bunch of inexperienced but passionate gearheads can achieve.
During the time I worked for two different restoration shops in Brazil, I had the opportunity to drive some interesting cars and bikes.
A couple of days ago I was going through hundreds of digital pictures that I have scattered all over Google Drive and found a few shots of one of those cars, a 1983 Porsche 911 Targa that came to be part of the Powertech collection back in 2012.
The previous owner didn’t care much about the originality of this car, the rims are from a modern Porsche, and when the fuel injection gave up, he replaced it with a cheaper, made-in-Brazil, EFI. Since it was an injection system designed for competition and non-sequential, the 3.0 flat-six was kinda rough at low rpm. It was only above 3,000 that little bastard would sing happily.
Besides the EFI problem, which could be easily fixed, this Targa was a very nice car. I used to say it was the perfect bachelor car.
It was not the first vintage Porsche I drove but it confirmed a feeling that I had before. I don’t quite get all the fuss about those older Porsches. To me, they behave like a VW Beetle on steroids, they sound like a Beetle, and they even smell like one. All those similarities came as no surprise since the two cars share the same DNA
Don’t get me wrong, I am not bashing the 911, the car has heritage, for sure; otherwise, it wouldn’t have thousands of devoted fans around the world. I just fail to see it on a pedestal, placed much higher than other sports cars.
By the same time this 911 was at Powertech, the team had finished a Brazilian built 1976 Dodge Dart for a customer. The car was equipped with spiced up 318 small block and a four-on the-floor transmission, it was a delight to drive. One day we were scheduled to take both cars to the Detran (equivalent to DOT) for an inspection. The manager tossed me the Porsche’s key and said:
– “Rubens, I am gonna be nice to you, take the 911”.
I looked at the key, then I looked at the white Dart at the parking lot and said:
–“Nah, let me drive the Dodge”. And at this moment A Matter of Feeling, by Duran Duran was playing on the radio. I pointed to the speaker and said:
The 1980s was not a remarkable era for the auto industry, the decade will always be remembered by sluggish engines and questionable taste in design. But if we venture into the realms of Italian exotic cars we will certainly find a few exceptions. In my humble opinion, the Ferrari 288 GTO can easily sit on top of any list of themost beautiful cars of the 1980s.
This Lady in Red is not only gorgeous, she is also fast. The car is powered by a 400 hp twin-turbo engine. and the stunning design is a creation of Pininfarina. To make her even more desirable, Ferrari produced just a hand full of them.
The 288 GTO was born as a more affordable version of the 308 GTB and was produced from 1984 to 1987. At some point, Maranelo was granted permission from the top FIAT CEOs to create the Evoluzione, a specially modified 288 for road racing and Group B rally. I believe the idea of seeing the car competing in the legendary Group B helped elevate the 288 to iconic status.
The 288 GTO is a rare car, with only 272 units produced. The very last one was given to Niki Lauda by Enzo himself. A 288 in good condition (and let’s assume most of the surviving ones are in excellent condition) can fetch prices between $2.5 million and $3.5 million.
After this quick introduction, we can get to know the 288 GTO which is the subject of this article.
The fastest Ferrari on earth
The title above might be a bit misleading and the reason is simple, the 288 we see here can’t be considered a true Ferrari, in fact, it can’t even be considered a true GTO. The modifications performed in this car are so extensive that the it lost its soul and became some kind of monster, a mechanical Frankenstein.
But when I say this Ferrari became a monster, I am not saying it in a derogatory way, what I am trying to say is this beast was stripped of its original soul and received a different one. This new soul gave the car a different purpose in life.
It is a fact that money gives you the freedom to make your dreams come true and, exponentially, lots of money will give you way too much freedom. Perhaps this is how this journey started.
After watching the movie The World’s Fastest Indian, back in 2005, the American retired banker/adventurer/explorer/race driver Stephen J. Trafton became inspired to go to the dry lake and break some records himself, but he wanted to do it in style. He wanted to go fast in a car that was born to go fast. He wanted a Ferrari.
Well, before we move into this idea, let’s talk about Bonneville.
The Salt Flats
This magical place is located in Utah, USA and it is a race track like no other. The 12 miles-long and 5 miles-wide ancient dry lake bed has a perfectly flat surface, making it ideal for speed trials. Men and machines have gathered there since 1907, when the first land speed record was registered.
Five major racing events happen there every year, including the legendary Speed Week. This is a democratic place where any kind of machine is welcome, from motorcycles to jet-powered trucks. Although the salt flats are an environment where the traditional American hot rod feels more at home than anything else, it is not unusual to see European exotic cars going flat out on the track.
Now, let’s go back to the machine.
The Flying Horse
Trafton wanted something different for his adventure and in 2007 he bought a retired, Ferrari Bonneville racer for $75,000. It is a 1985 308 GTB that was re-bodied as a 288. The car had seen its fair share of abuse on the dry lake and after sitting for 8 years in storage, the poor Ferrari was in rough shape. The car was taken to P4 by Norwood, a garage that is specialized in tuning and customization of Ferraris. They even build replicas of the 1967 P4-300.
The car was halfway done when Trafton bought it. The Ferrari was already fitted with a Chevy V8 and a 4-speed tranny with CO2 shifting, just like in top fuel dragsters.
That weird device in the middle of the rear bumper is the V-drive.
The car’s powertrain has an interesting configuration, the engine is connected via shaft to a V-drive (those into boat racing/performance know what I am talking about), the transmission is bolted to the lower part of the V-drive and then connected to the rear end. Confusing? You bet, but let’s take a look at the picture below.
I got this diagram from a boat parts website but it will give a good idea of the Ferrari’s setup, #1 is the engine (duh!); #2 is the V-drive; the tranny goes exactly where #3 is, and #4 would be the rear diff. Voila!! It is called V-drive because of the angle between the shafts but the one used in the Ferrari probably has parallel shafts.
In 2008 the Ferrari was ready and… Gosh!!!! She looks amazing!!! An original 288 is a beautiful car but a race-ready 288 is way beyond that. The car was then christened “Cavallo Volante” which means Flying Horse in Italian.
Here some interesting details of the Cavallo Volante, after the restoration:
*540 CID all aluminum big block Chevy, custom built by Dart, equipped with two 96 mm turbos. Dart also supplied the aluminum heads. Depending on the tuning, the engine can crank up between 2500 and 3000 hp. * Custom intercooler with stainless tank in front * MOTEC engine management * B&J four-speed transmission with CO2 shifting – Equipped with internal clutch packs. * Custom Overdrive gears back into Ford differential, turned upside down (because of the V-drive setup) * Dual fire systems *High and low-speed chutes * Micky Thompson Bonneville experimental tires (tested at 600 mph) * Rear spoiler and ground effects, plus 500 lbs lead ballast at the nose, helping to keep the front wheels operational at high speeds.
After spending some time tuning the engine at the dyno, the car was taken to Bonneville Salt Flats for Speed Week in August 2008. The team entered the AA/BFMS class (AA – larger than 500 cubic inch displacement engine: BFMS – Blown Fuel Modified Sport). Tom Stephens, an experienced Bonneville driver was behind the wheel that weekend and after several test runs down the 5-mile course, Stephens dropped the hammer, full of hopes for a new record. Unfortunately, the big block Chevy gave up after so much abuse. The engine exploded, causing a fire that was quickly put out by the car’s safety system. And that was the end of the team’s first attempt to set a record.
The Ferrari was properly repaired in 2009, the engine was rebuilt, and received an improved intercooler system, increasing the horsepower and durability. Around this time, the team owner, Stephen Trafton, started his quest to become the official driver for this enterprise.
That device on the console, looking like trumpet buttons, is the shifter. The car starts moving with the first gear engaged, (pushed by another car or truck), then each button will shift the next gear, using pressurized CO2.
The Cavallo Volante was then sent to the Dallas Raceway, where Strafton got some “seat time” in the car, getting himself ready for Bonneville.
In October the team was back to the Salt Flats for the 2009 World Finals. During this meet Strafton qualified for the Unlimited Speed License (license to drive at speeds greater than 250 MPH). He was one of the few rookie drivers to ever pass all qualifications for this license in one racing meet. The 288 performed flawlessly, setting high expectations for the next year.
And finally… The record.
In the first part of 2010, the Ferrari received a totally new turbocharge-intercooler system, allowing the massive V8 to easily pump out solid 2000+ hp. The team was hoping the engine would hold its bolts together during the required two flat-out passes, which are then averaged to set a possible record.
In October 2010, the team was back to Bonneville for the World Finals. For the first couple of days, Strafton took the Cavallo Volante down the track five times, testing and tuning the package. On October 8th,, for the first time the car clocked a speed that confirmed the record was within reach – 276.152 mph or 444.423 km/h. That was enough to qualify for a final record run the next day. The performance even surprised the race officials. They never thought a stock bodied car, driven by a newly licensed rookie would go over 250 mph.
According to the rules, the Ferrari was then taken to a restricted area, where the team had 1 hour to perform some minor adjustments and get it ready for the next morning.
October 09, 2010 – The final Record Run day. All the teams that had their machines qualified the day before were at the starting line for the Final runs. The Black Horse Team was one of the first to go down the track.
After waiting about ten minutes, the starter gave the go-ahead and the Cavallo Volante was off, for the all-or-nothing double pass. There was a soft spot between miles 3 and 4 so Strafton picked a narrow line to the left of the track and tried to guide the car along, making hundreds of tiny steering corrections as the car drifted first left then right down the track. He also discovered that he was having vision problems in his right eye. He put his visor up after the start and shut that eye. (He underwent retinal repair surgery one month later.)
Strafton was determined to get that record. Concentrating on the left edge of the course and shifting through the gears at full throttle (from 1st to 2nd at 90mph, 2nd to 3rd at 140 mph, and 3rd to 4th at 205 mph). After completing the down-the-track and return pass, the car scored an average speed of 274.650 mph (442.006 km/h) and set a new world record of 275.401 mph (443.214 km/h) for the BFMS – Blown Fuel Modified Sport. Mission accomplished.
A final consideration
The victorious Black Horse Team. Trafton is the guy in the middle, hugging his wife.
A couple of weeks ago, I was watching an old episode of the TV show Roadkill, and I saw a statement written on a car: “Nothing is sacred – Chop’em all”, and it seems the Black Horse Team followed this motto to the letter. What was done with this 288 (or 308) can make any Ferrarist puke in disgust but a true Hot Rodder will certainly see the excellence in this creation. An original 288 GTO can reach a respectable top speed of 189 mph (304 km/h), but can you make it go faster? I mean, a lot faster? Yes, you can. If you have the ingenuity and enough money (and the balls to step on it after it is done), you can make it happen, and that is the beauty of Hot Rodding.
What the Black Horse Racing team achieved is no small feat and they deserve to be praised.
As for the machine, aside from occasional trips to the local Seattle area car shows, the Cavallo Volante sits peacefully inside a showroom, far away from the excitement of Bonneville. It is a bit sad to see such a magnificent car retired from the competition, but who knows? Mr. Strafton might feel the Need for Speed and bring this Flying Horse to the Salt Flats one more time.
While I spend time putting together plastic model kits, my 75-year-old dad spends his time restoring vintage VW Beetles.
Recently he sent me a few short videos showing himself masterfully assembling a rebuilt, air-cooled 1300cc-VW engine. This little mill replaced an old, tired 1300cc that came with the car when Dad bought his 1968 Beetle a couple of years ago.
During the video, he speaks in Portuguese, which means not a lot of people outside Brazil (and Portugal) will understand what he is explaining. But his enthusiasm makes this video appreciated no matter the language of the people watching it.
I wish I was there to give him a hand and to have the pleasure of going for a ride in that Beetle.
Once again it is wintertime in the Northern Hemisphere, and here in Canada, it means one thing: spending most of your free time indoors. If you are not willing to sit in front of the TV and spend hours watching Netflix’s “craparama”, you better find a hobby.
Occasionally, I give a shot at an old hobby I used to have when I was a kid, plastic modeling. My love for machinery made me spend my meager allowance on books, magazines, slot cars, and enough plastic model kits to drive my poor mother crazy every time she tried to dust them off.
This Christmas I bought, as a gift for myself, an old Revel kit, a 1:72 French fighter Spad XIII that I found on eBay. In one of the pictures the seller sent me I found out the kit was made in 1991, which can be considered vintage. That is pretty cool.
All the kits I bought when I was a kid were Revell, which was the most popular brand at the time in Brazil. I don’t remember ever having quality problems with them so, I felt confident in buying this one.
What a disappointment. This little kit came with several plastic injection defects, which the experts call “flash”. The worst piece was the top wing.
I had to fix it with sandpaper, which took me some time and a lot of patience.
The first step was to put the fuselage and lower wing together, which was pretty easy since it is a level 2 kit. After finishing this I celebrated with a beer and a bottle of Chinese apple cider. Perhaps it was a wise idea not to continue the building that night.
The next morning I attached the undercarriage and the engine cowling. Now it is time to start painting.
I decided to go with light gray for the underneath camouflage. The other option was light green.
I tried a little trick to make the propeller look like laminated wood, but the result was not what I was expecting, I believe my masking tape is too old and didn’t do its job properly, but I decided to keep it like this anyway.
The kit has two options for the camouflage and decals, one is the famous Spad flown by the American ace Capt. Eddie Rickenbaker, who scored 26 victories during the war. The other one is the machine that belonged to another American ace, Second Lieutenant Frank Luke, also known as TheBalloon Buster, who scored 18 victories.
The first part of the painting was a coat of light green, keeping some parts in the original beige.
Both options follow the traditional 5 colors French pattern. But I decided to go rogue here.
The second part is applying dark brown stripes
After a quick Google research, I noticed that 9 out of 10 Spads built worldwide are homages for those two American aces. That compelled me to do something different.
In WWI, the concept of a military air force was in its infancy, therefore, fighter pilots had a good deal of freedom in many aspects and one of them was choosing the livery of their machines (the Germans more so than the Allies). Based on this, I decided to create my own camo pattern with beige, light green, and brown.
This pattern is totally made up and not historically accurate, which might sound a bit heretic but I think it looks good.
With the top wing and the decals in place, it finally looks like a WWI fighter.
I was expecting to have a hard time dealing with 30-plus-year-old decals but fortunately, most of them behaved quite well.
At this point I can consider the model is done, even if it missing two very important details, first is the cable rigging and second is the weathering.
-Rigging–
Some biplanes (and monoplanes as well) either vintage or modern, use cables to enforce structural rigidity, as you can see in the artistic depiction of the Spad in the first picture of this post. When I started this building I had the intention to reproduce the cables using sewing thread but this is not the kind of job for an old man like me. My hands are too shaky and my eyesight is not very good so, I gave up even before trying.
-Weathering–
Model kits, especially military hardware, need to show some marks from the battlefield, otherwise, they will just look like toys. A model must have dents, rust, dirt, oil stains, bullet holes, and so on to make it look real. Weathering is an art and to achieve perfection a modeler must practice it for a while. I definitely don’t have what it takes but I am learning it. I tried to apply some dirt on the Spad a couple times, without success, but I am not giving up, as soon as I get it right I will update the post with new pics.
The machine
The Spad XIII was the latest version of a series of fighters built for WWI by the French Société Pour L’Aviation et ses Dérivés (SPAD). The first prototype flew on 04 April 1917 and during the time it served in the war, the XIII built a reputation for itself. Fast, maneuverable, well-armed, and capable of taking some punishment and still keeping flying, this biplane was adored by the pilots who flew it.
It was massively produced, with 8,472 units built until the time when the armistice was signed. The XIII equipped virtually every fighter squadron of the French Aéronautique Militaire, and it was also supplied to the UK, USA, and Belgium. After the war, the Spad XIII was exported to countries all over the world.
Armament: Two 7.7mm Vickers machine guns, mounted on top of the engine cowling, firing through the propeller.
Engine: Hispano-Suiza 8 – 11,76 liter, water-cooled V8, able to produce 220 hp @ 1,700 rpm.
Top speed: 216 km/h (135mp/h)
A fictional WWI tale.
It was very satisfying to put together a model kit that had been kept inside its box since 1991. I consider myself a below-average builder but even though I am happy with the final result. Since the camouflage pattern is fictional, I decided to write a fictional short (very short indeed) story about its pilot.
–This is the Spad fighter that belonged to Sargeant Jean Claude Sauvage, a French flying ace with 10 confirmed and 5 probable aerial victories. He was posted at Escadrille 38, in May 1917, and quickly proved to be a talented and fearless pilot.
On 8th August 1918, Sauvage was shot in his right leg during a reconnaissance mission, probably from a light firearm by an enemy foot soldier. He managed to come back to base but the injury put an end to his successful flying career.
Sauvage at work in his repair shop.
During the time he spent in the hospital, Jean Claude fell in love with Martine Lambert, a Belgian nurse who took care of him. After the war, the couple got married and managed to open a small repair shop for bicycles on the outskirts of Paris, where they lived happily together ever after.–
Update – March 2024
I believe I got the weathering right, but I don’t think the picture will do justice to the result. I used oil-based black paint mixed with lots of solvents. I was having a hard time finding the perfect mix but then my wife Estela came to save me. She found it on her first try.
It is a very subtle dark shade, just enough to look like dirt and soot. I am happy with the result. At this time I celebrated with Irish red ale.
During the 1990s, rock’n roll enjoyed what might have been its last breath of life as a mainstream musical genre. The Grunge Movement, which started in the mid-1980s, and exploded in the next decade, was a healthy departure from the (mostly) silly, glossy-looking bands from the 80s to a more hard-core, back-to-basics approach. Rock was once again focused on fighting for social rights and equality.
Of course, not all bands that reached stardom in the 90s fall into the Grunge subculture, since it was an American movement. The Brits kept themselves into what we can qualify as alternative/Indie Rock’n roll. If I have to make a list of the most influential British bands in the 1990s my top 5 would be Radiohead, Blur, Oasis, Bush, and the one I will focus on here, The Verve.
The band was born in Wigan, Greater Manchester, in 1990 by lead vocalist Richard Ashcroft, guitarist Nick McCabe, bass guitarist Simon Jones, and drummer Peter Salisbury. At the time, the band was named Verve, and their work was something like a neo-psychedelic.
When their first album, Storm in Heaven, was released in 1993, the guys were already well known in the British Indie rock’n roll scene. The record was a critical success, but was only a moderate commercial success, reaching No. 27 in the UK album chart that summer. In 1994 the band changed the name to The Verve.
The breakthrough
The band’s first and only solid commercial success came in 1997 with their third studio album, Urban Hymns. Critics around the world enthusiastically praised the record, which became one of the best-selling in UK chart history, with over ten million copies sold.
Urban Hymns has a few singles that reached high in the charts like The Drugs Don’t Work and Lucky Man, but if there is one song that will forever be remembered as the band’s most important one is Bitter Sweet Symphony. Besides being an awesome work of art, this single was involved in a complicated lawsuit that brought so much trouble and sadness that it could be used to sum up the band’s history.
The original formation, from left to right: Peter Salisbury, Simon Jones, Richard Ashcroft, and Nick McCabe
The melody of Bitter Sweet Symphony was based on a sample of the song “The Last Time” by another British Rock band that you might have heard about, The Rolling Stones. Richard Ashcroft got inspiration when he listened to the orchestral version of the song, played by Andrew Oldman Orchestra. Andrew is a former producer and manager of The Rolling Stones, and his orchestra used to play a lot of the band’s material.
Ashcroft’s idea was to take the original song and “turn it into something outrageous”. The Verve signed an agreement with Decca Records to use a 5 notes segment of “The Last Time” in exchange for 50% of the royalties. The band then altered the piece, adding strings, guitar, percussion, and several layers of vocals from Ashcroft. The band’s leader also said he imagined “something that opened up into a prairie-music kind of sound”, similar to the work of the Italian composer Ennio Morricone. “The song started morphing into this wall of sound, a concise piece of incredible pop music“. “To take something but really twist it and fuck it up into something else. Take it and use your imagination.”
Whatever Ashcroft’s intentions were, he achieved. The song was released on 16 June 1997 and quickly became a huge hit. It is The Verve’s most ingenious creation, and the fans responded to that. The sales of the album skyrocketed and Bitter Sweet Symphony became one of the most iconic songs of the 1990s.
The innovative video also helped to push the song’s popularity to the sky. Rumor has it that in the original script, Richard Ashcroft should peacefully walk through the streets, but instead, he went rogue and bumped over the extras. The director loved it so much that he decided to change the script entirely.
The lawsuit
The ex-Beatle George Harrison was another victim of Klein. This might be a staged picture but George looks ready to break Klein’s nose.
Allan Klein made a name for himself in the 1960s British pop scene as a ruthless and greedy music manager, who would do whatever it took to make his clients, and himself, filthy rich.
At some point, Klein managed The Rolling Stones and The Beatles, simultaneously so, one must assume he knew what he was doing. In fact, he was a very sketchy manager who, in many cases, took possession of his client’s copyrights without their knowledge.
Ashcroft and his bandmates thought they were safe when they negotiated rights with Decca Records. What they didn’t know at the time was Mr. Klein should also be part of the deal, since he owned the copyrights to The Rolling Stones pre-1970 songs. This included—yes—” The Last Time.”
When Klein realized that The Verge-bunch of nobodies was becoming a huge name in British pop-rock, he decided it was time to cash in some money. Initially, he assumed that the agreement signed with Decca could be upheld in court, so he led to a lawsuit in the name of ABKCO Records, which was Klein’s holding company, claiming that Ashcroft used more than five notes from the original song, establishing a breach of contract.
The Verve was faced with two options, one was to remove Bitter Sweet Symphony entirely from the market and the other was to give up their rights over the song. That suit was settled out of court and the boys relinquished all royalties to Klein and the songwriting credits were given to Jagger-Richards.
Ashcroft received $1,000 for completely resigning rights.
That was a bitter pill to swallow. Bass player, Simon Jones, said: “We were told it was going to be a 50/50 split, and then they saw how well the record was doing. They rang up and said we want 100 percent or take it out of the shops, you don’t have much choice.”
When asked about the lawsuit, Ashcroft was satirical, “This is the best song Jagger and Richards have written in 20 years.” “It was the biggest hit attributed to The Rolling Stones since their track “Brown Sugar.”
The song was nominated for Best British Single at the 1998 Brit Awards and in 1999 it was nominated for the Grammy Award for Best Rock Song. Bitter Sweet Symphony was also included in the soundtrack of the 1999 movie Cruel Intentions.
Sadly, it was when the song reached its peak in popularity that The Verve broke up. Life in the band was never easy, drug abuse and internal conflicts were constant problems faced by the members. Klein’s lawsuit was the last straw.
The band got back together again in 2007 but it lasted only 2 years.
In 1999 a reporter asked Keith Richards about the whole situation, “I’m out of whack here, this is serious lawyer shit. If the Verve can write a better song, they can keep the money.”
The light at the end of the tunnel.
In 2019, Ashcroft’s new manager, John Kennedy, decided to “reopen the case”. In the same year, he gave a poignant statement about it:
“Songwriters often talk about their songs as if they are their children and to have one of your children taken away from you has been brutal for Richard,” Kennedy said. “He has endured it, not always patiently or in silence, but it has been terrible for him.”
He and Ashcroft’s other manager, Steve Kutner, started to negotiate with Allen Klein’s son, Jody, who became the controller of ABKCO after his father passed away in 2009. At the younger Klein’s suggestion, they met with Joyce Smyth, the Rolling Stones manager, who agreed to personally speak to Jagger and Richards.
The song returns to the creator.
Kennedy thought “the most likely outcome was that nothing would happen”. But in April, he and Kutner received a call from Smyth relaying Jagger and Richards’ agreement to return the rights and their share of the royalties to Ashcroft and to have their names removed from the song’s writing credits.
Joyce Smyth
“Steve and I nearly cried because we knew what this would mean: absolute affirmation that ‘Bitter Sweet Symphony’ was wholly Richard’s creative work,” said Kennedy. “Without [Smyth] this simply would not have happened.”
In May 2019, Ashcroft was awarded for outstanding contributions to British music, at the Ivor Novello Awards (picture above). That was the perfect moment to make the good news public.
“This remarkable and life-affirming turn of events was made possible by a kind and magnanimous gesture from Mick and Keith, who have also agreed that they are happy for the writing credit to exclude their names and all their royalties derived from the song they will now pass to me,” he said in a statement.
Bitter Sweet Symphony also became some sort of anthem for the English national soccer team. Now that Ashcroft owns the song, he can enjoy international games once again. “They play it before England plays,” he observed. “So I can sit back and watch England … and finally just enjoy the moment.”
Billboard estimates the song’s total publishing revenue over the years at almost $5 million. It sounds to me like a very modest estimate.
Ironically, “Last Time“, can’t even be considered an original The Rolling Stones song. It has an identical chorus, in melody and lyrics, to “This May Be the Last Time“, a traditional gospel song recorded in 1954 by the Staple Singers. In 2003, Richards acknowledged this, saying, “We came up with ‘The Last Time’, which was basically re-adapting a traditional gospel song that had been sung by the Staple Singers, but luckily the song itself goes back into the mists of time.”
Between the years 1972 and 2004, Brazilian drivers won 14 world championship titles: 8 in Formula One, 5 in Formula Indy/CART, and one in Sports Car Prototype. Those years became our golden age in motorsport. We are deeply proud of our drivers and we will shamelessly brag about them for decades to come.
When I wrote the 3 parts TheBrazilian Champions, my idea was to honor some of those drivers but I knew I was not being thorough. I focused only on the Formula One champions and left out the talented drivers who became successful outside that universe.
Unfortunately, what made me visit this subject again was the tragic and premature death of Gil de Ferran. The two times CART champion passed away on Dec. 29, 2023, victim of a heart attack. He was 56 years old.
Those who had the privilege to be around him considered the Brazilian one of the greatest, a fierce and talented driver, and a true gentleman. Here it is, a brief account of his stunning career in motorsports.
Gil de Ferran was born in Paris-France on November 11th, 1967. His family moved to Sao Paulo-Brazil when he was 4 years old.
Just like so many race drivers before and after him, his racing career started in kart. After that Gil joined the Brazilian Formula Ford in 1984 and secured the national title in 1987. (picture above)
The title opened the doors of the British Formula 3, as an official driver at Edenbridge Racing, for the 1991 season. He finished his debut year in third, behind his fellow Brazilian driver Rubens Barrichello and David Coulthard.
de Ferran celebrates another win, during the 1992 British F-3 season.
Next year Gil de Ferran moved to Paul Stewart Racing and after 7 victories, he won the 1992 championship.
The path to CART
The Paul Stewart Racing Team, in a promotional picture, for the 1993 Formula 3000 season. Gil de Ferran is the first one on the left
The 1992 F3 title would have given him a chance to go to the traditional Formula 2 but instead, de Ferran decided to join the recently created International F-3000. This new class was designed as a more affordable class for drivers with modest sponsorships.
Gil de Ferran’s brilliance didn’t go unnoticed, in 1993 he was invited by Footwork Arrows F-One Team for a day of testing, along with Dutch racer Jos Verstappen. Unfortunately, his dream to make a good impression that day went down the drain when he bumped his head while walking near the motorhome. This is how de Ferran recalled the incident: – “I was walking between two of the trucks, looking down thinking, -this is not going so well-. And I hit my head on a swing-up locker door on the side of the truck. Split my head open, blood everywhere, game over“. –
Gil was still competing at F-3000 when he was invited by CART Hall/VDS Racing for some tests. The team’s sponsor, the American oil company Pennzoil, was reluctant to offer him a position as the official driver, they thought the Brazilian wasn’t popular enough to represent the brand. As soon as the CEOs watched de Ferran’s performance during the tests, they changed their minds.
With no serious offer from Formula One, de Ferran took up the opportunity to drive the yellow “Pennzoil” Reynard-Mercedes-Benz in the 1995 season. Gil scored his first win in the last race of the year, at Laguna Seca Raceway. He finished the season in 14th but his solid performance granted him the Rookie of the Year award.
Gil de Ferran left Hall/VDS Racing when the team was dismantled at the end of the 1996 season. There were rumors at the time Gil would be the new driver for the Stewart Grand Prix F-One team, but it never materialized.
In 1997 de Ferran joined Walker Racing andat the wheel of its Valvoline Reynard/Honda, he finished the season as a runner-up to Alex Zanardi, with 12 top ten finishes but not a single victory. (picture above)
Gil started 1998 as a stronger contender for the title but instead, the season was pretty mediocre for the Brazilian. The Reynard/Honda proved to be an unreliable machine that year and the Goodyear tires used by the team had inferior performance compared to Firestone tires used by other teams. He finished the season in 12th.
Things didn’t improve much in 1999 when Gil finished the season in 7th. At the end of the year, both Valvoline and Goodyear left CART and the prospects of staying at Walker Racing were not very promising.
Towards the end of the season, Gil de Ferran signed a contract with Marlboro-Team Penske, replacing Al Unser Jr. His future teammate, Greg Moore, was tragically killed in a crash at the season finale race at California Speedway, and de Ferran’s fellow countryman, Hélio Castroneves was hired as a replacement for Moore.
These two Brazilian drivers had very few similarities in life. Castroneves is an extroverted guy and an impetuous driver while de Ferran has a much more reserved persona and a methodical approach on the track.
But as a teammate relationship goes, de Ferran and Castroneves were a match made in Haven. They bonded immediately and created a brotherhood for the time they shared the pits and also later on in life.
Two titles, back-to-back.
=2000 Season=
Everything was all set for a great season in 2000. The Reynard-Honda, proudly wearing the red and white Marlboro livery, was a fast and reliable car, and the Penske Team was a well-oiled machine, with every member committed to winning the championship.
The start of the Rio-500. Rio de Janeiro – April 30, 2000.
The 2000 CART season was one of the most wide-open in its history, the first seven races saw seven different winners. The year wasn’t a stellar one for de Ferran, but his performance was consistent. He won in Nazareth and Portland, but he managed to be on the podium in 5 other races, adding enough points to secure the championship. His teammate, Castroneves, scored 3 victories but finished the season in 7th.
The world record.
The 2000 CART season allowed de Ferran to write his name in the history of motorsport in two different ways. He not only won the title that year but also set a world record while qualifying at California Speedway in Fontana. He set both the track record and closed course record for the fastest lap at 241.428 mph (388.541 km/h). The record still stands as the fastest qualifying lap speed ever recorded at an official race event.
=2001 Season=
The 2001 CART season was a very problematic one, to say the least. A lot of bad news was dropped like a bombardment throughout the year: The races in Texas and Rio de Janeiro were canceled; the European tour was a fiasco since it coincided with the September 11 attacks; Honda, Toyota, and Mercedes-Benz decided not to renew their contracts as engine suppliers; Michigan and Nazareth Speedways would be dropped from the calendar for the next year; the series lost a huge television contract, and Team Penske announced its defection to the rival Indy Racing League at the end of the season.
Gil de Ferran and Team Penske used the same recipe to score one more championship in 2001. The Brazilian won the Rockingham 500 in England and the race in Huston, but he was on the podium six more times. Castroneves won three races again that season but stood on the podium only one other time. That was good enough for a fourth-place finish in the championship, But in addition to Helio’s three CART wins, he won the 2001 Indianapolis 500 – which did not count toward the CART championship. Gil de Ferran finished second in the 500.
Conquering Indianapolis
If there was one thing missing in Gil de Ferran’s career was a victory at the iconic Indianapolis 500, and this glory came in 2003. On March 23, the Brazilian suffered serious injuries as a consequence of a crash with Mario Andretti at the second race of the 2003 season, in Phoenix, Arizona. He was still recovering from a broken back when the Indy 500 weekend came, on May 25. Despite the injury, he passed his teammate with 31 laps left to win the race, making it the second time Team Penske dynamic duo, de Ferran/Castroneves, scored a 1-2 finish in Indianapolis.
At the end of the 2003 season de Ferran decided that it was time to retire. There is no better time for a race driver to step down than when he/she is at the top.
de Ferran Motorsports
It is not an easy task to keep a successful race driver away from the tracks. It didn’t take long before de Ferran found himself once again at the wheel of a race car. In 2008 he announced his return to motorsport driving a factory-backed LMP2 class Acura ARX-01 prototype, under his own team deFerran Motorsports.
The team raced at the American Le Mans Series in 2008, de Ferran and his teammate, Simon Pagenaud, took four front-row grid positions, led six races, and scored three podium finishes in just eight starts. Not bad for a rookie team.
In 2009, de Ferran Motorsports was chosen by Honda to develop the Acura ARX-02A (picture above) for the LMP1 division of the American Le Mans Series. The team scored five outright wins, and seven poles, and finished runners-up in the ALMS LMP1 class.
At the end of the 2009 season, Gil started to put things in motion for his return to the IndyCar Series, but at this time as a team owner. The team left the La Mans Series to concentrate efforts on this new enterprise. Before the start of the 2010 IZOD IndyCar season, de Ferran Motorsports merged with Luczo Dragon Racing, a team started by Jay Penske, the son of de Ferran’s former boss Roger Penske, and Steve Luczo, a successful technology leader and racing enthusiast. The new team was named de Ferran Dragon Racing.
The de Ferran Dragon car in the 2011 season.
The team scored four Top Ten finishes in its debut campaign in 2010 and finished seventeenth in the season finale at Homestead-Miami Speedway. Unfortunately, de Ferran Dragon Racing was forced to shut down its operation at the end of the 2011 season, after failing to find a new sponsorship.
Formula-One
Gil de Ferran also had a management career in Formula One. In 2005 he was hired by BAR-Honda F1 team as their sports director. He resigned from the position in July 2007, declaring that his situation in the team was becoming “increasingly uncomfortable”.
In July 2018, de Ferran was made sporting director for McLaren following Eric Boullier’s resignation. He left the team in early 2021.
In May 2023, McLaren brought him back in a consultant advisory role as part of their restructuring process.
A Champion who left us too soon.
On December 29 – 2023, de Ferran was attending a private event at The Concours Club, in Opa-loka, Florida. He was racing with his son Luke at his side when he felt unwell, pulled over, and suffered a fatal heart attack.
Gil de Ferran was always considered a through-and-through gentleman. A fierce racer when inside the car and a good friend around the pits. He loved not only the raw speed but, as a dedicated mechanical engineer, he also loved the machines. As a manager, he was always willing to teach and to learn.
I would like to finish this article with an emotional statement written by Gil’s daughter, Anna de Ferran.
“While my father left us too young, he died the way we believe he would have wanted — driving a racecar with my brother at his side,”
“He left us without pain with his last act being to place his foot on the brake so my brother was able to come home safely with us that evening,” she continued. “That story in itself is a testament to the level of thought, care, selflessness, and love he put into everything he did.”
Somebody gave me this lithe-looking creature called Spitfire, and said:
-There is a Spitfire, go and fly it.-
The next thing I knew, it had leapt into the air. Sort of me hanging on to it, really…
And off we went into the wild blue yonder.
Oh, my goodness me.
It is going to be a very busy day, O Lord.
If I forget You, don’t forget me.
Just give me this day.
Please give me this day.
By Geoffrey Wellum
Squadron Leader Geoffrey Harris August Wellum was a veteran of the Battle of Britain, and he earned the Distinguished Flying Cross for his bravery. After the war, he remained in the RAF until 1961. In the 1980s he wrote his wartime memoirs and it was published in 2002 as First Flight. He died on July 18th, 2018.
The year 2023 was a remarkable one for the so-called musical physicalformat. Physical copies of music have been performing better than digital downloads for a while and the trend continued this year. To make it even more amazing, for the first time since 1987, the analog vinyl LP outsold its digital nemesis, the CD.
So, what does all of this information have to do with a post about a motorcycle? Well, what I am trying to say here is: vintage is cool, and cool people are out there, looking for vintage/retro stuff to buy.
If there is one segment that has been enjoying this retro fever for a while is the motorcycle industry. They jumped into this market niche much earlier than the auto makers and that is understandable; after all, as a friend of mine use to say, “Bikes are moved by passion, not by reason”. In fact, brands like Harley Davidson and Triumph are so attached to the vintage image that is impossible to talk about them without bringing to mind an image of a bike designed in the 1950s/60s. But there is another brand that can be easily included here, Royal Enfield.
Made Like A Gun.
We can trace the roots of this traditional British company back to 1893, when the Enfield Manufacturing Company Ltd. started to supply precision parts for firearms produced by the Royal Small Arms Factory of Enfield, Middlesex.
1928 Royal Enfield 500. The company was the first manufacturer to change the front fork system from Druid design to center-sprung girder forks.
Royal Enfield produced its first bike in 1901 and the connection with the armament industry gave the inspiration for the company’s trademark: Made Like A Gun.
In 1955 the company established a partnership with Madras Motors, and a factory was built in Tiruvottiyur, near Madras, India. By the late 1970s, the entire production of the Royal Enfield bikes was made in India.
The 350 Classic
The Royal Enfield Classic 350 was introduced in 2009 and it became an instant hit. This first generation was offered with two different engines, the 350cc and the 500cc, both air-cooled and single-cylinder.
The bike draws its design inspiration from the 1932 Royal Enfield Bullet (pictured above), one of the company’s most popular models. According to Siddhartha Lal, Managing Director of Royal Enfield’s parent company Eicher Motors Ltd., “The Classic 350 is a modern and capable motorcycle that symbolizes the timeless post-war styling from the heydays of the British motorcycle industry.”
2024 Classic 350
Royal Enfield ditched the 500cc version in 2021, keeping the 350cc as the only option for the Classic.
Royal Enfield was a traditional supplier of motorcycles for the Commonwealth armies during WWI and WWII. The modern Classic 350 in olive green uniform is a beautiful homage to those bikes.
Despite the bike’s nod to the past, the 349cc, air-oil cooled engine performs like a well-designed modern machine. The single-cylinder dual overhead cam (DOHC) engine is well-balanced and smooth. The engine produces 20 bhp @ 6100 rpm, and 27 Nm of torque @ 4000 rpm. The numbers don’t sound much but it is enough to easily make its way through town and have some fun on back roads.
If you love riding with your sweetheart hugging you, an optional seat can be installed over the rear fender.
Throughout the years, Royal Enfield has released a myriad of versions of the Classic 350. The top one is a not-so-subtle all-chrome model; perfect for riders with a flashy personality.
The bike is equipped with hydraulic disc brakes on the front and rear wheels, more than enough to safely stop it.
It is fair to say that all the bikes produced by Royal Enfield have this retro vibe, and we can hardly blame the company for holding on to this feeling. The period between the end of WWII and the late 1960s was the most romantic era in motorcycle history.
It was a time when British bikes like BSA, Norton, Triumph, and of course, Royal Enfield dictated the standards of the motorcycle industry. Those machines were synonymous with freedom and rebellion, they became the vehicle of choice for the youth in defiance against a repressive society.
The RE Classic 350 is an affordable way to revive that era. If you have $6000.00 to spare and a leather jacket you can be the most rebellious dude/gal among your peers at the office. Well, if not the most rebellious at least the most stylish.
It is Christmas again, the time of the year when our hearts get flooded with love and compassion. Time to get together with family and friends, and that jazz, but it is also the time of the year when we dream about all the pretty things money can buy.
I know, I should not mix heartwarming Christmas feelings with the horrible commercial side of the holidays, but sometimes I just can’t help.
Wristwatches are on the top-five list of objects I dream about. I am not an expert in this tiny universe of horology, I just enjoy reading about it and staring at the watches through the jewelry store windows.
A couple of years ago I came across the amazing Zenith Type 20 Pilot watch series and I was immediately struck by it. They are inspired by the watches used by military pilots from the 1920s, and the vintage and rugged character of the original ones is present in every element of their design.
The connection between Zenith and aviation is long-standing, it stretches all the way back to 1909 when the French aviator Louis Bleriot became the first man to cross the English Channel in a flying machine. Strapped to his wrist was a Zenith watch.
The model pictured above is called Type 20 Extra Special Chronograph, and features a case made of solid brass. Absolutely gorgeous.
During the 2016 edition of the Baselworld, Zenith released the Pilot Cafe Racer. The watch is a true homage to those British bikers from the 1950s and 1960s, that used the country’s motorways as race tracks, challenging each other with their noisy, stripped-down Triumphs, Nortons and BSAs.
The Cafe racer movement definitely deserves a post here at TCM.
The Type 20 Pilot is a gorgeous timepiece, doesn’t mater which model we are looking at. Zenith did a superb job recreating the spirit of the vintage pilot watches in every detail. They even applied an artificial patina, giving the cool appearance of an old, weathered watch.
By its nature, a pilot watch must be easy to read; arabic numbers and hands are big and usually painted in clear colors to contrast on a dark dial, and the Type 20 follow this rule perfectly. Unfortunately it is not a watch that will fit gracefully on every wrist, at 45 mm in diameter and sitting very high above the cuff (14.25 mm), it doesn’t go unnoticed. On a tiny arm like mine, it would look like I stole a wall clock from the local library and strapped it around my wrist. Thankfully Zenith also makes them in 40mm.
The only part of the watch that didn’t go down well on me is the oversized, onion-shaped crown, but then again, it wouldn’t be a deal breaker.
The heart of the Type 20 is El Primero 4069, an impressive high-frequency movement beating at 36,000 vph and one capable of delivering a solid 50 hours of power reserve.
A special edition of the Type 20, with the blueprint dial. Fantastic!
Zenith is a well know luxury watch brand and that means its products can be a bit pricey. The average price for the Type 20 is above $6,000.00.
This is the kind of toy that most of the average Joes around the world can only dream about, but if you have the means, it can be a very nice option for a Christmas gift for yourself. It fits perfectly with a leather jacket and if you don’t have a vintage airplane, a classic British bike will do it nicely.
Being a poor car guy can be very frustrating. I spent a lifetime dreaming about cars that I could not afford, and chances are I never will. Perhaps, writing about those machines helps to cope with the frustration.
Instead of owning memorable cars, what I have are some memorable moments driving ordinary cars.
In a long list of clunkers and uninspiring cars I have owned throughout the years, there are a couple that will always have a special place in my heart, one of them is a 1969 VW Beetle.
Unfortunately, I lost all the pictures I took of that car and what you see here are pics of Beetles that resemble the one I had.
This story starts on a Friday afternoon, the year was 1988, I was 18 years old and had recently joined the Brazilian Air Force. That day I was very happy indeed, the Base commander gave the afternoon off for all nonessential personnel and I, with two of my friends, were going home riding a car instead of taking the bus, like most of the other guys from my platoon.
That Beetle was my pride and joy, I had installed a set of 13-inch, magnesium rims, wrapped with some second-hand radial tires. That alone considerably lowered the car, but not happy with that, I altered the front suspension, really slamming the poor Beetle to the ground. The engine was the original 1300cc but the exhaust was pretty loud. The color was Beige Claro, code L-1075, factory original.
According to Brazilian traffic laws, owners are not allowed to modify the stock suspension of any automobile and also is not permitted to alter the final diameter of the wheel-tire assembly. I knew I was riding an outlaw car and the police could, at any time, impound it.
Ok, back to that promising Friday, when we were proud to be wearing the Air Force uniforms and so happy that our weekend started a bit sooner. As you can figure by now, my day was just about to turn sour.
Just a little bit before hitting downtown, we ran into a police checkpoint, and to make things worse, they were the traffic police. With the regular police, you even have a chance to fool them about a car like mine or even bribe them, but not with these guys, they do not take bribes and they know their stuff.
When the officer saw my Beetle approaching, he immediately signed to stop. He came to the car, put his two hands on the front fender, and tried to push it down. The suspension didn’t move an inch.
Officer – “Locked suspension?“
Me – “Yes”.
Officer – “OK guys, get out of the car, and bring the keys and documents”.
I looked at my friends and said: – “Shit, they will take the Beetle”.
Jean Claude, one of my friends said: “Tell the guy we need the car, tell him we are scheduled for armed service tomorrow morning, I don’t know, just lie to him”.
Yes, this is my best shot, I thought. I called the officer: “Look officer, we are scheduled to be back to the base at 7 o’clock tomorrow morning, and we need the car. Can you let us go? Come on, as a favor from one soldier to another”.
Officer: “Why don’t you guys take the bus? You know what? I don’t call the shots anyway “. “Hey Sarge, these fly boys here wanna talk to you”.
And here comes the Sarge, with an angry face that only sergeants can make: – “What seems to be the problem”?
Then I started to tell him my sad (and fraudulent) story. When I finished he looked at me and with the kind of wisdom that only sergeants can have he said: “Let’s cut the crap, I have more important things to take care of”. “I will give you a 24-hour permit, which means you have 24 hours to get your Beetle back to the original standards”. “And remember, this is my area, if I catch you again driving a car like this I will impound the car, and you too. Then I will call your sergeant to come and get you out of jail”. “Am I being clear, private”?
Me: “Yes Sir.”
The first thing my dad and I got done on Saturday morning was unlock the front suspension, which was, by the way, pretty easy. Then I spent the rest of my weekend hunting for a set of 15-inch rims and a decent used tires. Thankfully that 24-hour permit meant 24-business hours so, I had just enough time to get the car ready for the inspection.
I had totally forgotten how comfortable my Beetle was before the modifications. With a properly working front suspension and soft bias ply tires, the car was ridding like a Cadillac (a little exaggeration here…). On my way to the police HQ, on Monday morning, I was seriously considering leaving the car in the way VW intended it to be.
Upon my arrival at the HQ, a corporal, sitting at the reception greeted me: “Hello, what can I do for you”?
Me: “I brought my car for an inspection”.
Corporal: “That is easy, I will inspect the car myself”.
Then he looked around, trying to find someone who could replace him at the reception. He didn’t find anyone, then he grabbed a pen, signed my papers, gave one copy to me and said: “You are good to go”.
Me: “Aren’t you going to see the car”?
Corporal: “Nah. I trust you”. “Besides, I don’t think you would show up here with an irregular car”. “Have a nice day”.
Have I learned my lesson? Nope. Ten years later I ran into another police checkpoint, driving a lowered VW Gol (not Golf). This time it wasn’t the transit police.
Officer: “License and registration”. “Your Gol is lowered, isn’t it”?
Me: “Just a little bit, officer”.
Officer: “That is wrong, my friend”. “Although it would be a shame to take such a nice car to the HQ”. “Here are your docs, get out of here. “Go, go”.
He and his fellow officers were holding assault rifles, perhaps they were after something more menacing to the society than lowered cars.
If memory serves me well, that VW Gol was my last modified car, I never tried again to make a boring car look cool. That means it was my last brawl with the law.
Car guys can be a very opinionated bunch indeed, some of them will worship one brand and despise all the others, and some of them will prefer a certain category of cars and make fun of the others. But there is one thing that seems to bring all of us together, we all have a soft spot for station wagons (or Estate, as they are known in Europe and the UK).
Is it easy to explain this unconstitutional love? I don’t know, maybe because since the wagons are based on regular cars, it doesn’t take much to make them perform like a sports sedan and you still have plenty of room for all your family’s junk. On top of that, a tastefully modified wagon can look even more badass than its sibling sedan (ok, the last statement is open for some debate).
The sporty wagon.
Unfortunately here in North America, consumers have replaced the station wagon with SUVs, but in Europe, the segment is very much alive. Brands like Volvo, BMW, Audi, and Mercedes-Benz have been exploring the idea of high-performance station wagon, for a while and some of the results are nothing short of stunning. A couple of weeks ago I drove by a brand new Audi RS6 Avant and WOW, that thing does look like a race car.
Well, since we are bringing the the words station wagon and race car into the same sentence, lets talk about… Volvo.
It will be hard to find another automaker more deeply attached to station wagons, than Volvo. The company built its image upon reliability and thousands of families bought those brick-shaped wagons not for the looks but mainly because they felt safe driving around in a car that was built like a tank.
Volvo started building station wagons in the 1950s but it was only in the 1980s that the 245 model won hearts and minds in North America. In 1981, they released the 240 Turbo, which was, according to Volvo, the fastest wagon in the world. The picture above shows a 1984 245 Turbo and as you can see, the car has less chrome, alloy rims, and a chin spoiler, giving the beloved wagon a sporty aura.
In 1991 Volvo unveiled the 850, the car that, according to a few experts, saved Volvo from bankruptcy. Thankfully the legacy of high-performance wagon continued with the 850-R (picture above), equipped with the amazing 5-cylinder, 2.3-liter turbo engine, capable of 250 hp, which might sound tame by today’s standards but it was very interesting back then. The Estate “R” was originally intended as a limited run of just 2,500 units, but the first batch sold out so quickly that Volvo felt compelled to make it a regular production car.
The 850 was the right car at the right time for the company, it might not be as pretty as a BMW 3 Series from the same era but it was a huge improvement when compared to the previous generation.
This modern and attractive car gave Volvo the confidence to face the competitors not only on the streets but on the race tracks as well. It was time to use racing as an advertisement tool.
From soccer mom’s car to track warrior.
If an automaker wanted to use racing to advertise its products in the 1990s, there was only one place to be, the British Touring Car Championship. The competition, held in the UK since 1958, reached its peak in popularity in the 90s during the so-called super touring era. Thousands of fans flocked to the race tracks every weekend to watch the fierce battles between the drivers. The races were broadcast live not only all over Europe but across the globe as well. Manufacturers from Japan and Europe were not shy about pouring copious amounts of money into their official race teams and the level of competition on the tracks was unmatched. To understand how close fought those races were, please go to YouTube and dig some videos about it.
Volvo joined the BTCC in 1994, and the season was all set to be a memorable one. The Swedish team would be fighting against some formidable opponents. Brands from all over the world were represented there: Ford, BMW, Vauxhall, Mazda, Toyota, Nissan, Renault, Peugeot, and the second debutant that year, Alfa Romeo.
But the season would be remembered for one reason: Volvo chose to race the 850 Estate instead of the sedan.
Volvo was not fooling around when they joined the touring car war; the company formed a partnership with Tom Walkinshaw Racing (TWR), a British motor race team that was responsible for putting together the Jaguar XJR-9 that won the 1988 World Sports Car Championship, and also getting into Formula 1 through Benetton, pushing Michael Schumacher towards his first world title.
They were also not fooling around when the time to choose the drivers came. The 1988 Le Mans winner Jan Lammers and Swedish Formula 3 racer Rickard Rydell were hired to perform the driving duties for that season.
The decision to compete with the station wagon was kept in secrecy. Nobody knew until the two white and blue livered cars rolled out of the truck at the season opener race, in Thruxton. Everyone thought it was some kind of joke, even the drivers. “When I signed up for Volvo… I didn’t know about the estate plans,” Rydell said later. “If I’d known, I would probably have hesitated!
Overcoming a weakness
The 240 Volvo, at the pits, during the 1985 German DTM season.
At this point, Volvo was no stranger to the race tracks. In 1985, the turbocharged, flame-spiting beast Volvo 240 won the European Touring Car Championship (ETC) and the German equivalent, the Deutsche Touringwagen Meisterschaft (DTM). The fans quickly adopted the underdog Volvo as their favorite and affectionately called it “The Flying Brick”.
But at BTCC, things were a bit different. Rules were strict – 2-liter maximum capacity for the engines and no turbo/supercharger assistance; throwing out the window the two main advantages of the Volvo 850. The downsized 5-cylinder Volvo engine, without the help of the turbo, became a very uninspiring powerplant, at a first attempt the team was able to squeeze a meager 260 ponies out of it.
You don’t need to be a rocket engineer to figure that using the 850 Estate meant more glass and metal on a longer wheelbase. Although the wagon was a bit more aerodynamic than the sedan, the anemic engine put the Swedish team in a pickle.
Thankfully, the technicians at Tom Walkinshaw Racing were very resourceful. Turns out that the BTCC rule book was not that strict and the team explored every loophole possible.
First, the absence of the turbo allowed the engine to be positioned further back towards the firewall, and the adoption of a sequential 6-speed transmission permitted the engine to be installed in a much lower position than in the original 850. All these modifications greatly improved the handling of the racing wagon.
The engine also received a lot of improvements, the rules stated the head should be the same as the production car, but it wasn’t specific about how much it could be altered. Volvo came up with camshafts so aggressive that they couldn’t fit inside the head and new supports had to be created to accommodate them.
Much bigger valves were used to improve the air-fuel flow. The rules didn’t allow to modify the angles of the valves so the team went to the extreme, altering the sitting angle of the head to the block and the intake manifold… WOW!!!! All these ingenious modifications kicked the power output to 300 plus HP. Not bad at all.
Besides all the efforts, not only from the TWR but from the drivers as well, the 1994 BTCC season fell short of Volvo’s expectations. During its debut (and only) season, the 850 wagon’s best results were 3rd in qualifying, and 5th in a race. Volvo finished 8th overall in the 1994 championship, beating only Nissan and Mazda.
Driver Jam Lammers poses with the team’s mascot, a huge stuffed collie. The dog used to go for every parade lap, in the trunk of the 850, as a practical joke.
We can not only focus on the lack of competitivenessof the 850 Wagon; at the end of the season, Volvo had achieved what they were looking for when they chose the car, publicity.
Alfa Romeo won the manufacturer title of the 1994 BTCC season, taking advantage of a controversial aerodynamic aid. Both cars became legends in the BTCC universe, and when we talk about the Super Touring Era, the first image that comes to mind is the red Alfa Romeos and the Volvo Estates “apexing” the turns on two wheels.
For the following season, BTCC changed the rules regarding aerodynamic aids, forcing TWR and Volvo to go conservative, using the sedan body instead. Volvo ended both the 1995 and 1996 BTCC seasons in 3rd place.
Just three racing wagons were made for the 1994 season. The first chassis then spent a period in Australia before returning to Sweden where it was rebuilt and restored to its original livery before being placed in storage.
The second remains on display at the Volvo Museum in Göteborg while the third model was re-shelled as a saloon and used as a test hack ahead of the 1995 campaign. The two remaining cars can be often seen at classic car racing events in Europe.
Today, the Volvo states from the 1980s and 1990s are becoming collector’s items and are no longer seen as “dorkymobiles”, but the 1994 BTCC season significantly helped to change the perception of Volvo cars from boring to somehow cooler, and sporty.
Note of the editor – Some pictures I grabbed without asking permission. I hope the authors won’t mind. The top one is from the amazing Wheels and Things blog – https://wheels-and-things.com/en/, and a couple from Speed hunters web page – Chaydon Ford
The Classic Machines 