It is an understatement to say that the worlds of motorsports and timekeeping are intrinsically connected; after all, drivers must first beat the clock before facing each other on the race track.
Since the dawn of the sport, watchmakers have established partnerships with teams and organizers, supplying watches and chronographs in exchange for publicity.
Sir Malcolm Campbell
The Swiss Rolex was the first watchmaker involved in motorsport as early as the 1930s. The company recognized a valuable opportunity to associate its brand with adventurous drivers, such as Sir Malcolm Campbell.
It was an opportunity that basically knocked on Rolex’s doors. After setting numerous speed records at Daytona Beach during the 1930s, Campbell wrote a letter to Rolex, expressing his admiration for the watch’s performance.
Campbell praised the Rolex Oyster for its accuracy and durability, particularly under the challenging conditions of his record-breaking runs.
Sir Malcolm and his 1931 Napier Blue Bird.
Sir Malcolm Campbell was a British aristocrat committed to stabilish the United Kingdom as the leading country in the land speed record world challenge, even if most of his achievements were accomplished in the USA. On September 4, 1935, while driving his Bluebird, Campbell set a new land-speed record of 301.337 miles per hour (484.955 km/h) at Bonneville Salt Flats in Utah.
The Bluebird was a series of specially designed vehicles powered by aeronautical engines. The last model, the 1935 Campbell-Railton Blue Bird (shown above), is equipped with a 37.6-liter, supercharged V12 Rolls-Royce aero engine, capable of producing 2,300 horsepower.
The 2021 Rolex Daytona Meteorite. The dial is made of a slice of iron meteorite… How cool is that?
Sir Malcolm Campbell became a global celebrity and a dedicated ambassador for Rolex. This partnership significantly boosted the popularity of the Swiss watchmaker. One of the most lasting outcomes of this collaboration is the iconic Rolex Daytona chronograph series, which was created as a tribute to Daytona Beach, the sacred grounds of speed where Sir Malcolm set most of his records.
Formula One
In 2013, Rolex became the official timepiece and Global Partner of Formula 1. Since then, the Swiss brand has supported the sport by contributing to its technological development, honoring its history, and celebrating its drivers. This long-standing partnership has made Rolex synonymous with Formula One, providing the company with exceptional visibility among fans worldwide.
In a surprising turn of events, Rolex ended its partnership with the F-One circus in 2024. Initially, the company paid $10 million annually, a figure that escalated to an astonishing $50 million per Formula 1 season. This is a significant amount of money, even for the world’s most prestigious luxury watch brand.
TAG Heuer won the bid against its long-time rival, Rolex. The conglomerate LVMH, which owns Heuer, paid the impressive sum of $150 million to reintroduce TAG Heuer to the Formula One arena.
Sports Prototype
The most prestigious race in the IMSA calendar is the Rolex Daytona 24.
Rolex is out of Formula One, but the brand still has deep roots in the World Endurance Championship and IMSA.
Since 1992, Rolex has been the title sponsor of IMSA, but it has announced it will expand its partnership in 2025 as its official timepiece. The news came shortly after Rolex decided to exit Formula 1.
Since 2001, Rolex has been the official timekeeper of the 24 Hours of Le Mans.
Every year since, the race winners receive a specially engraved Rolex Daytona as a gift. (pictured above)
In 2023, motorsport fans from all over the world celebrated the Centennial edition of the 24 Hours of Le Mans.
Rolex is one of the few brands that rarely releases limited or commemorative edition watches. However, the company made an exception to honor this historical event by releasing a special edition of the Daytona “Le Mans” Chronograph, the 126529LN.
The watch (pictured above) became highly sought after by collectors, easily reaching prices of around US$350,000 at auctions.
It might sound contradictory to name a watch after two different racing venues. Still, it is a matter of tradition and celebration of the alliance between the two most celebrated long-duration races worldwide.
The “Le Mans Chicane”.
The connections between these two iconic racing events go far beyond this special edition Rolex. In 2022, the governing bodies of the 24 Hours of Le Mans and the 24 Hours of Daytona announced a joint renaming of two key chicanes. The bus stop chicane on the backstretch of Daytona was renamed the Le Mans chicane, while the first chicane on the Mulsanne straight at Circuit de la Sarthe is now called the Daytona chicane. This permanent renaming of significant corners at important racetracks formally acknowledges the importance of the upcoming alliance between these two prestigious races.
Conclusion
For almost a century, Rolex watches have been the choice of many legendary race drivers, starting with the fearless Sir Malcolm Campbell.
A.J. Foyt.
Paul Newman.
And Lewis Hamilton, to name a few.
Rolex will not sponsor Formula One for at least the next 10 years. However, this change is not significant. The brand was the pioneering watchmaker in motorsports, and even after all these years, it continues to maintain a strong presence at racetracks around the world.
Louis Armand de Lom d’Arce, French aristocrat, writer, and explorer who served in the French military in Canada, once said: “To survive the Canadian winter, one needs a body of brass, eyes of glass, and blood of brandy.“
Well, Monsieur Louis Armand was absolutely right: winter in Canada is brutal, but when my wife and I moved here from Brazil in 2015, what scared me the most was not the prospect of dying of hypothermia; it was how we would manage driving a car in such cold environment. How does a vehicle start at -25 Celsius? Or how can we drive on icy roads?
Operating a car in the Canadian winter isn’t as difficult as it might seem. A block heater (or oil pan heater) and a reliable battery are usually sufficient to start the car on a cold morning. Additionally, modern vehicles are equipped with advanced electronics that play a key role in ensuring the engine operates smoothly in cold weather.
As for driving the car, if it is equipped with a good set of winter tires, it will be mostly OK.
In 2015, we decided to come to Winnipeg, a lovely little town in the Prairies, the so-called “The Winter Capital of Canada.” It is also known as “Windypeg” or “Winterpeg. ” Well, you got the idea; it is darn cold over there.
The winter of 2017 was particularly harsh. One December morning, which I believe was during the coldest week of that winter, I approached my trusty 2003 Nissan Altima to unplug the block heater. That’s when I noticed the right front tire was low—not flat, just low. At first, I panicked; I didn’t want to change the tire in -28°C (-18.4 F) weather.
However, I realized ( or hoped for) that it could have enough air to drive to the nearest gas station. My plan was to fill it up there and then head to work. If I was lucky enough to make it, I could then bring the car into the shop where I work and deal with the problem in a much more manageable temperature.
Before reaching the gas station, I realized it couldn’t go any further without damaging the tire. I left Portage Ave, which is pretty busy, and I pulled over at a parking lot in the back of a commercial building.
The parking lot was nearly empty, so I had a peaceful spot to do the job. By the time I was lifting the car, a lady came to me walking from the building:
Lady: “Hello, you got a flat tire. Are you going to call someone to change it for you?”
Me: “No, I think I can manage it all right.
Lady: “OK, then. But if you feel unwell, you can come inside; we have hot coffee and tea. You can come and warm yourself up if you wish.”
I found it very nice and considerate.
ME: “Thank you so much.“
Lady: “Because you know…” (laughing nervously) “We don’t want you to die here.”
Then she pointed to a sign above the entrance door: Canadian Red Cross.
1111 Portage Ave. Winnipeg. That was the address of the Canadian Red Cross, where I parked my car (in the back of the building). The site is now vacant.
Me: “Oh, I see.” “That would be ironic.“
Lady: “No, no… That would be embarrassing.”
She rushed back into the building when she realized I was committed to changing the dam tire. I finished the job as quickly as possible, and surprisingly, it went smoothly. I thought of accepting a cup of coffee, but I was running so late for work that I decided not to.
On my way to work, I could not stop laughing, thinking about the newspaper headlines that, thank God, didn’t happen.
“Man Dies of Hypothermia on the Canadian Red Cross Parking Lot.“
The 2024 Formula One season has concluded, and I would like to share a few brief thoughts on it. First, I want to clarify that I am not delving into deep analysis, as I follow the sport more superficially. Additionally, I will be writing from the perspective of a South American fan.
Max Verstappen
Max Verstappen has secured his well-deserved fourth consecutive championship. There is no doubt that he is the best driver of the pack. If Red Bull can maintain its consistency—not just with the car, but also with the overall performance of the team—he is the favorite to win yet another title next season.
This year’s title fight was very different from Red Bull’s extraordinary dominance in 2023. Having more teams competing for the championship is exactly what fans want to see, as dominance can be quite boring.
Max was unbeatable when driving a fast car, and even when his machine was not performing well, he was still fighting among the top-scoring drivers.
Sergio Pérez
Max’s teammate, the Mexican driver Sergio Pérez, had secured a 2-year extension contract with Red Bull, but unfortunately, the team bosses said a younger talent might replace him.
I first heard of Sergio Pérez when he won Bahrain’s 2020 Sakhir Grand Prix. He started in the last position and claimed victory in a chaotic and unpredictable race. This win marked the first victory of his 10-year Formula One career at the time. I have been rooting for the guy since he is one of the few Latino drivers who made it to the top class in motorsport in recent years. However, Pérez has had a disappointing performance this year, and understandably, this is the kind of image that Red Bull wants to distance itself from.
Artistic rendition of the future Cadillac F-One car.
Checo, as he is commonly known, is 34 years old, and at this age, it can be challenging to secure a position with a competitive team. However, there are rumors that he will be joining the Cadillac team in 2026. An experienced and popular Mexican driver on an all-American team could be advantageous.
Lewis Hamilton
A move that has generated considerable attention in recent months is Lewis Hamilton’s transfer to Ferrari. With seven world championships under his belt, he is regarded as one of the greatest drivers of all time. However, some argue that his success in the 2010s was largely due to the advantages of driving an unbeatable car. They suggest that when Mercedes-Benz was no longer able to supply the fastest machine, Hamilton lost his edge.
In 2024, he was outperformed by his teammate George Russell in 19 out of 24 qualifying sessions; the situation was so embarrassing that he said about himself: “I am no longer a fast driver.” The idea here is not to stir up a discussion about how good Sir Lewis Hamilton still is or if Ferrari’s decision to hire him instead of a younger talent was the right move or not; only time will tell.
Hamilton has a special connection with my home country, Brazil. He says that when he was 5 years old, he saw Airton Senna on the TV, which inspired him to become a world champion. In 2022, he became an honorary Brazilian citizen.
In celebration of the 30th anniversary of Senna’s death, Hamilton drove the 1990 title-winning McLaren MP4/5B around Interlagos before the 2024 Brazilian Grand Prix. This emotional tribute brought tears to the eyes of many fans in attendance at the racetrack that day.
Mercedes-Benz hired rookie Kimi Antonelli as Hamilton’s replacement. In a lackluster performance, the 18-year-old Italian driver finished the 2024 Formula Two season in 6th place.
McLaren
I don’t remember the last time we had four teams closely competing for the world title like we did in 2024. More impressive than this was McLaren’s meteoric rise from obscurity to glory in such a short period.
Watching McLaren fall into irrelevance over the past few years has been painful. After all, this is the second most traditional Formula One team, only behind Ferrari. Drivers like Emerson Fittipaldi, Ayrton Senna, James Hunt, Mika Häkkinen, Niki Lauda, and Lewis Hamilton became world champions driving for McLaren (and I may be forgetting a few others).
The turnaround started when Andrea Stela was appointed Team Principal by the end of the 2022 season, and Oscar Piastri replaced Ricciardo. The engineers presented the first competitive McLaren in 2023, the MCL60, celebrating the team’s 60th anniversary. But it was only after a series of improvements on the 2024 car that proved to be effective.
Many advancements, particularly in aerodynamics, are attributed to the new, state-of-the-art McLaren wind tunnel. The team began modernization efforts in 2019, and the facility became fully operational in 2024. For a decade, McLaren rented the Toyota Gazoo wind tunnel, located over 300 kilometers away in Cologne, Germany. In addition to the logistical challenges, the Toyota facility is 25 years old and nearing the end of its useful life. Having an in-house, modern wind tunnel greatly facilitated the work of the technical team in providing aerodynamic improvements for the cars.
The fight for the 2024 Constructor Championship stretched to the season’s last race in Abu Dhabi. Lando Norris led the race from start to finish, securing the title for McLaren, the first one since 1998.
A new hope for the Brazilian fans.
In 2025, fans in South America are once again filled with excitement (and some fans around the world, too); for the first time in 7 years, a Brazilian driver will be competing in Formula One as a full-time driver. Gabriel Bortoleto was hired by Sauber to be the team’s second driver.
Bortoleto arrived at Formula One with an impressive resume; he is the first driver since Oscar Piastri to win both the Formula 3 and Formula 2 Drivers’ titles in consecutive seasons as a rookie. He joins the ranks of notable drivers like Charles Leclerc and George Russell, who have also achieved this remarkable feat.
Felipe Massa, in 2017, his last year as an F-One driver.
The last time we saw a Brazilian driver winning the World Championship was in 1991 when Senna won his third title. After that, Felipe Massa came really close to clinching the title in 2008, but unfortunately, he was the victim of a shady scheme perpetrated by Renault, and he saw his dream going down the drain. This subject deserves a post here at TCM, but not today.
Bortoleto has big shoes to fill, but I hope this pressure won’t impact his performance. We are optimistic that the young Brazilian will have a fantastic 2025 season, which will help secure his place for 2026 when Sauber transitions to the Audi F-One team.
In 2022, Audi, part of the Volkswagen Group, announced they would join F1 as a power unit supplier when new regulations featuring increased electrical power and 100% sustainable fuels are introduced in two years.
The Germans initially planned to partner with Sauber, one of the longest-standing teams in Formula 1, intending to acquire a stake in the Sauber Group. However, they have since decided to proceed with a complete business takeover. As a result, 2025 will likely be the last year the team competes under the Sauber name before becoming the official Audi Formula One team.
After Ayrton Senna passed away in 1994, I lost interest in Formula One. I shifted my focus to drag racing, rally racing, and the World Endurance Championship (WEC). However, my enjoyment of watching the greatest motorsport class is slowly returning. The 2024 season was thrilling, and I hope next year will be even better.
During the time I worked as a parts guy for two different restoration shops in Brazil, I had the opportunity to attend quite a few classic car meetings. Although I have nice memories (and some pictures too) of all of them, there is one I consider special.
It was the last meeting I attended before leaving Brazil for Canada. It took place from November 14 to 16, 2014. It’s hard to believe that ten years have already passed.
The 23rd edition of the “Encontro Sul Brasileiro de Veículos Antigos” took place this year. This traditional event is held annually in various cities within the three southern states of Brazil: Paraná, Santa Catarina, and Rio Grande do Sul.
That year, the meeting happened in my hometown, Curitiba, which made the logistics of bringing the cars way easier.
The organizer chose the city’s race track to host the event. That was a wise choice since it had a massive parking lot and a huge area around the pits.
The boss decided to bring the Crème de la crème of his collection:
(2) 1937 Cord 812 Phaenton Supercharger
1939 Lincoln Zephyr Coupe V12
1937 Lincoln Zephyr Coupe V12
1947 Lincoln Zephyr Coupe Street Rod
1929 Cord L29 Brougham
As we progress through the pictures, I will identify them all.
The work started picking up some of the cars that were in the City’s Automotive Museum.
This is Marques, our official town truck driver, loading up the 37 Zephyr. He is a super nice guy, always ready to go the extra mile.
Here, one of the Cord 812s is ready for the short trip to the meeting.
The operation to deliver the cars to the show started on Thursday. As soon as we arrived, we found this unmolested, unrestored 1956 Hemi-powered Chrysler 300.
I was so enamored with the car that I took too many pictures.
This is one of the top pics of the boss’s collection, a beautifully restored 1939 Lincoln Zephyr Coupe, powered by a V12 Flathead.
The whole Powertech’s team agrees; the 39 Zephyr is one of the highlights of its collection.
The picture above shows it alongside another car we brought, a 1947 Lincoln Zephyr Coupe powered by a 1960s Cadillac V8 engine. I drove the 47 from Powertech headquarters to the show, and I loved it; it drives like a dream. It is a shame I don’t have more pictures of the car.
A gorgeous 1950 Jaguar XK120 Coupe, ready for an upcoming classic car rally.
The car below is a 1967 GT Malzoni, an excellent example of the ingenuity of the early days of the Brazilian auto industry.
It is a small, fiberglass body GT car built on a DKW platform (the company that originated Audi). The car is powered by a 2 stroke, 1-liter, three-cylinder DKW engine.
A stunning 1974 Brazilian-built Ford Maverick GT in Grabber Blue, powered by a 302 small block V8, paired with a 4-speed manual transmission.
A race-ready DKW.A beautiful 1967 first-generation Dodge Charger. DKW Vemag.
This is an ultra-rare VW-powered truck called a Tempo Matador, built-in 1951 by a Hamburg, Germany-based company called Vidal and Sohn. These trucks were produced from 1949 through 1951 and used the 1100cc, 25 HP, air-cooled VW powerplant, and a ZF non-synchro 4-speed transmission. But the placement of the drivetrain is in the front, making it a front wheel drive vehicle. They were built in a truck and a van format, and only about 1300 were produced in total, with roughly less than ten known to exist today… making it a very rare machine. (Source: Old Bug.com)
A spiced-up Mercury Flathead engine powers this 1951 Ford.
A supercharged small block powered Ford Maverick.
The Ford Maverick was manufactured in Brazil from 1973 to 1979. Although it had a short and unsuccessful production run, by the mid-2020s, the car had become highly collectible, with prices soaring. Today, the Maverick receives all the love that it never experienced during its production period. Here you can find more details about the Brazilian Maverick: https://www.curbsideclassic.com/blog/international/cc-global-brazilian-maverick-from-deception-to-passion/
This is a rare sight: a Ford Maverick Station Wagon. This vehicle was produced in limited numbers by a major Ford dealership in São Paulo during the 1970s. The roof and C-pillar were sourced from the Chevy Caravan, which was one of the Maverick’s competitors in Brazil.
Two of the Powertech’s Zephyrs, the 1937 on the left and the 1939 on the right.The Powertech’s Cords at the center stage.
Hot Rods
A classic car show is not complete without hot rods.
This is a very interesting 1929 Ford T-Bucket built and owned by a traditional garage in Curitiba, “NENE Hot Rods” https://www.nenehotrod.com.br/
They wanted to move away from the traditional Chevy small block for their powerplant. Nene himself, the guy in the blue shirt pictured above, selected an early 1950s Mopar flathead inline-six engine fed by a trio of Stromberg carburetors.
The final result is nothing short of stunning.
An Alfa Romeo, a Chevy, and a Ford, representing the early years of the Brazilian truck industry.
That’s me drying the dew off the Zephyr.
As happy as one can be at work.
The box area of the race track was reserved for the vendors.
There, you could find rare parts, memorabilia, clothing, and even an old Indian motorcycle for sale.
And a 1967 convertible Mustang.
But the Jeep was not for sale.
To serve and protect.
Powertech’s chief mechanic was selling this fantastic 1965 Impala SS. If I had the money, I would have taken this baby home.
The Cord 812 Supercharger
That year, our boss was committed to winning the Best Car of the Show trophy and brought his collection’s heavy hitters. The Lincolns are undeniably beautiful, but the show’s stars were the Cords.
The 1937 Cord 812 is a very interesting car. It has some features that put it years ahead of its time.
The Cord Corporation was a holding that owned several transportation-related companies, including Stinson Aircrafts and Lycoming Aeronautical Engines.
The 812 features links to the aircraft industry, including hidden headlights that reflect a strong emphasis on aerodynamic design.
A beautiful shot of the two Cords 812, side by side. The car became a popular choice among Hollywood stars in the 1930s.
The 1937 Cord 812 is the most advanced car produced by the Auburn-Cord Company, but unfortunately, this year also signifies the end of the company’s operations. Like many smaller American car manufacturers, it didn’t survive the challenges posed by the Great Depression that affected the USA and the world in the late 1920s.
The 812 is a front-wheel drive car with an interesting powertrain configuration- transmission, and the front axle sits in front of the engine, which is mounted backward on the chassis.
The car is powered by a 4.7 liter, Lycoming Flathead V8, equipped with a supercharger, and power is rated at 170 HP. To avoid overheating (a common problem among Ford V8 Flatheads), the exhaust manifolds are placed on top of the engine.
The transmission is operated electrically through a system called pre-selection. The driver must first move the shifter to select the desired gear, then press the clutch to engage the system.
The proud Powertech team, representing the company at the meeting. Yours truly on the left and my coworker and good friend Paulo Kuelo.
The Cord L-29
The 812 may be the coolest Cord ever made, but the L-29 is much rarer.
Woodlight headlamps are beautiful and weird at the same time—one more inspiration from the aircraft design.
The car is powered by a Flathead in-line 8 engine.
It is also a front-wheel drive car.
Here we are again, at the end of the event’s second day – Saturday, November 15, 2014.
On Sunday afternoon, we anxiously waited for the judges to announce the event winner; sure enough, it was the 1929 Cord L-29. After that, we began the long process of getting the cars back home.
This is Paulo Kuelo, celebrating another successful event.
Sometimes, I find myself going through (digital) stacks of photographs taken during the most thrilling period of my professional life. As the years go by, I feel a strong urge to write about those experiences before the details get lost in the fog of my memory. If you’ve reached this point, I hope you’ve enjoyed this journey down memory lane.
If you follow this blog, you probably have noticed that I love motorsports. I can spend hours watching all kinds of races on TV, but I am not a big fan of NASCAR. First, I don’t like watching races on oval tracks in general, but what disgusts me the most is how they encourage drivers to play dirty on the track, which inevitably leads to fistfights or any other deplorable behaviour by the drivers.
However, I do admire the cars themselves. The big American cars powered by the old-school pushrod V8 are fantastic. The new generation of machines is even better; the design has moved away from the awkwardness of the big sedans and has become closer to a genuine sports car.
NASCAR is the most popular form of motorsport in the USA. The list of things I despise about it is the very things that make thousands of fans go to the races every weekend. People want to see more than racing; they want to be entertained. From its beginning, deeply rooted in unlawful bootlegging in the 1920s and 1930s, to the unfair driving methods of the modern drivers, the good ol’ boys of NASCAR always provided good and controversial entertainment.
But the colourful behaviour of NASCAR is not limited to what I listed here; there was a time when cheating became rampant, and teams played a game of cat and mouse with race officials.
“YOU DONT RACE CARS; YOU RACE THE RULE BOOK.” – Smokey Yunick.
During the 1960s, NASCAR builders devised clever ways to cheat the rule book; the idea was simple: make the car lighter and faster, even if it meant bending the rules. Everything was considered fair game, as long as you weren’t caught.
Some tricks indeed resemble the kind of stuff that would come out of Wili E. Coyote’s mind. These are some of the wild examples: using lightweight wood to build the roll cage and then painting it to look like steel, helmets and radios made out of solid lead, and casually left them in the car when they went onto the scales, filling the cars’ frame rails with shotgun pellets that could be dumped during the race through a secret hatch, and even frozen springs that would lower the vehicle below the legal height as they warmed up.
The master illusionist
In the eyes of the fans, these “talented” builders were heroes. More than bending the rules to get faster cars, they were using creativity “to fight the establishment,” keeping the outlaw spirit of NASCAR alive.
Among those builders, there is one name that reached the status of legend. One guy whose creativity in creating his own rules made him larger than life; Smokey Yunick.
Henry “Smokey” Yunick was born on May 25, 1923. He was the son of Ukrainian immigrants who owned a farm in Neshaminy Falls, Pennsylvania. At the age of 16, he dropped out of school to run the farm full-time. It was during this period that Yunick demonstrated his mechanical talent by improvising solutions for broken farm equipment and even building a tractor out of a junk pickup truck.
During his spare time, he built and raced motorcycles, earning his nickname due to the smoke produced by his bikes.
Yunick’s military service during WWII is a mystery; it is a point where legend and reality collide. According to a New York Times article, Yunick enlisted in the US Air Corps in 1941 and served as a bomber pilot with the 97th Bombardment Group, based at Amendola Airfield, Italy. He flew a B-17 named “Smokey and his Firemen” and survived nothing less than 50 missions over occupied Nazi Europe before being transferred to the Pacific theatre. This outstanding military resume would be enough to elevate the guy as legendary; the only problem is, according to official military records, Yunick was drafted from civilian life as a welder in January 1943, at the age of 19, in Philadelphia at the enlisted rank of Private. He served on active duty from February 1944 to March 1946, when he left the Air Corps as a 2nd Lieutenant.
The Best Dam Garage in Town.
In 1947, Yunick opened a repair shop named Smockey’s BestDamn Garage in Town at 957 N. Beach St, in Daytona Beach, Florida. His reputation as a good mechanic spread quickly around town, and Marshall Teague, a local stock car team owner, invited him to be part of the team.
In 1951, Yunick faced his baptism of fire when he prepared a Hudson Hornet for Herb Thomas (picture above) to compete in the second edition of the Southern 500 in Darlington, South Carolina. Thomas, who is considered to be the first NASCAR superstar, won the race, propelling himself and The Best Damn Garage in Town to popularity.
F-Indy
The Reverse Torque Special
Smokey made NASCAR his home, but his ingenuity also found its way to Formula Indy. In 1959, he created a car with a reversed engine rotation that, theoretically, would improve the weight distribution when turning left on race tracks.
The idea is quite simple: most automotive engines rotate counterclockwise as viewed from the flywheel, and the torque vector points to the right side of the car (if it is a longitudinally mounted engine, of course). If we could make the motor rotate in the opposite direction, the torque would “pull” the car’s weight to the left, improving load distribution for the left-hand only turns of American oval tracks.”
Smokey called his creation The Reverse Torque Special, which was a Kurtis-Kraft 500H powered by an Offenhauser 4-cylinder engine, spinning in the opposite direction.
Veteran Duane Carter had no trouble qualifying the car 12th and finished 7th in the 1959 edition of the Indy 500. Even if the car had a respectable performance during the race, it wasn’t enough to prove that the engine rotation is, in fact, critical to influencing the car’s behavior on race tracks.
The Capsule Indy Car
Smokey’s creative mind never rested. In 1964, he created a genuinely innovative Indy machine, the CapsuleCar. Once again, Yunick was trying to relocate some of the car’s loads (in this case, the driver) to the left.
The team failed to qualify for the 1964 Indy 500, and Yunick abandoned the idea of improving the car. It now resides in the Indianapolis Motor Speedway’s Hall of Fame Museum, where it is often on display.
In the 1950s, Yunick was heavily involved with Hudson, the only American automaker that initially took NASCAR seriously. Due to the rising popularity of stock car racing in the South, by the early 1960s, all the other automakers began to join the trend.
In the 1960s, controversial hot rodders like Smokey Yunick and Carroll Shelby earned the respect of the Big Three automakers—Ford, GM, and Chrysler—through their innovative “shade tree engineering.” The CEOs had to acknowledge that these experts knew how to squeeze power and speed from their vehicles better than anyone else. To succeed in racing, the automakers realized they needed to collaborate with them.
They never said I couldn’t. -Smoke Yunick-
Smokey Yunick with the 1955 NASCAR Cup Oldsmobile Rocket 88 owned by Ernest Woods and driven by Jim Paschal.
There are quite a few stories about Yunick’s cheating techniques. The NASCAR officials used to joke about it, saying that the rule book has a dedication to Smokey on its first page.
Smokey worked for various automakers during his years in NASCAR. He raced Chevrolets in 1955 and 1956, Fords in 1957 and 1958, and Pontiacs from 1959 through 1963.
After leaving Pontiac, Yunick renewed his partnership with Chevrolet. At this point, GM didn’t want to have a works NASCAR team, and The Best Damn Garage in Town became the “unofficially official” Chevy team. Does that sound sketchy? You bet. But those years became, perhaps, the most colorful period in his career. Some of his achievements are memorable, but they gravitate between reality and fantasy.
Smokey’s most famous story happened during the 1968 Daytona 500. He brought his highly modified Chevy Chevelle for the technical inspection, and race officials went over every inch of the car looking for violations. They even took out the fuel tank to inspect it!
Smokey received a list of nine violations that needed to be corrected before the car could be raced. “You’d better make it ten,” Smokey said before jumping into the car and driving off, leaving his fuel tank still lying on the ground!
The trick here is simple: regulations specify a maximum capacity for the fuel tank, but they don’t say anything about the fuel lines. Smokey built an 11-foot (3-meter) coil of 2-inch (5-centimeter) diameter tubing for the fuel line and voilà; he just added about 5 US gallons (18. liters) to the car’s fuel capacity. Years later, Yunick declared that this episode had never happened; it was just a story that became folklore, although some people swear they had seen it happen.
Honey, I shrunk the Chevelle.
One famous episode in Smokey Yunick’s career is steeped in fantasy and can be recounted in various ways, depending on the storyteller. Some claim that Smokey built a scaled-down version of a Chevelle, measuring either 7/8 or 15/16 of the actual car’s size. While race officials noticed something unusual about it, they couldn’t pinpoint the exact issue. The car successfully passed technical inspection and, benefiting from reduced aerodynamic drag, dominated the NASCAR season in 1967. Although this makes for an entertaining story to share with friends at parties, it is simply not true.
But what Yunick did on this particular Chevelle is nothing short of amazing.
This was a 1966 Chevelle (although Smokey called it 1967) that was part of 3 cars developed in partnership with Chevrolet. Yunick improved the aerodynamics with intelligent solutions, like narrowing the bumpers, lowering the roof, raising the floor, repositioning the bumpers close to the fenders, flattening and smoothing the floorpans to act as bellypans, and covering every opening to minimize air drag.
Yunick’s tricks worked wonderfully, and during tests, the #13 Chevelle was way faster than the competition. Even if the car retained the factory’s original dimensions, as the picture above shows, the extensive modifications led to its disqualification.
Trans Am Camaro.
When Chevy released the Camaro in 1967, Yunick was in charge of developing it for the “Pony Car War,” which was fought in the Trans Am class. Not only was the livery of the famous #13 Chevelle adopted, but more importantly, all the aerodynamic enhancements as well. Smokey took the Camaro to the salt flats in Bonneville and broke several class records over there.
Not a cheater, but a developer.
Of course, not everyone saw Smokey as a hero. “Smokey was the worst or best, I’m not sure what you’d call it,” said Ray Fox, who drove stock cars in the 1950s and was later a car owner and a NASCAR official. “He was always trying to get away with something. I think Smokey had the idea [that] if you could have four things wrong and get one through, that was good.
Gradually, NASCAR relaxed its rules, and Yunick’s ideas, especially in the field of aerodynamics, became the norm, helping to make NASCAR what it is today.
Yunick also contributed immensely to the development of high-performance versions of the venerable Chevy small-block V8. All those tricks were extensively used not only by General Motors but also by the high-performance parts industry.
A mechanical genius
Smokey applied his mechanical creativity not just in competition, but also in everyday situations.
He wrote a column, “Say, Smokey,” for Popular Science Magazine in the 1960s and 1970s. In it, he responded to letters from readers regarding mechanical conditions affecting their cars and technical questions about performance. He also wrote for Circle Track magazine.
Smokey held several U.S. patents, including variable ratio power steering, the extended tip spark plug, and reverse flow cooling systems. In 1961, he also developed air jacks for stock cars, but NASCAR wouldn’t allow their use.
The revolutionary Fiero
Smokey spent years developing the “Hot Vapor Engine,” in which the fuel is heated up to 400 degrees Fahrenheit (204 degrees Celsius) before entering the engine. Theoretically, the gasoline would reach the combustion chamber completely vaporized, allowing it to fill it up more efficiently.
In 1987, Yunick modified a stock, 4-cylinder Pontiac Fiero, achieving impressive results. The sturdy yet outdated 151-cubic-inch (2.5-liter) Iron Duke 4-cylinder engine now delivers over 50 miles per gallon, produces 250 horsepower, and generates 230 ft-lbs of torque. It runs more smoothly than any 4-cylinder engine you’ve ever experienced and can accelerate from 0 to 60 mph in as little as 6 seconds!
Could this car, presented to the world nearly 40 years ago, be the answer to all our questions? Perhaps, but the auto industry ignored it, and this new technology was forgotten.
At the end.
Yunick left NASCAR in 1970 with a sense of mission accomplished. At the time, he hadn’t realized how much his work would influence the next generation of builders.
Smokey closed the Best Damn Garage in Town in 1987, claiming that there were no more good mechanics.
He could be spotted at the NASCAR pits during the 1990s, even though he was no longer managing any team. During this time, he was battling bone cancer and other illnesses.
In 2000, he told a reporter:
“I was diagnosed with everything but pregnancy. Finally, about a month ago, I took all the medicine and threw it in the trash can. I told the doctor, ‘I’m done with this shit. If I’m going to die, I’m going to die. Don’t even talk to me about it anymore.’ I picked up horsepower, about 70 percent. I feel 100 percent better. I came away from wheelchairs, those things you push, canes. Now I’m walking by myself, all that in 20 days.”
“I just went up and down. I didn’t know what was happening. I was so weak I couldn’t do nothing. I really didn’t want to live because I couldn’t do nothing. I’m starting to get back in the ball game. I may be going to drop dead because I won’t take the medicine, but I ain’t taking no more. If I’m going to die, let’s get it over with. I’m headed for 78 now, and I’ve had enough of everything, with no regrets. I had a good life.”
Smokey lived on his own terms without caring much about rules or authority, and that was how he chose to live during his final days. He died on May 9, 2001, at the age of 77.
He became a member of more than 30 Halls of Fame, including the International Motorsports Hall of Fame and the Motorsports Hall of Fame of America, was a two-time NASCAR Mechanic of the Year, and many of his engines, tools, and personal items are on display in museums, including the Smithsonian.
The character Smokey in the third movie of the Pixar franchise Cars, voiced by Chris Cooper, is based on him.
“Smokey was so ingenious. He was definitely the most ingenious mechanical head that we ever had. He was so far beyond. If he’d been working for NASA on the moon program, we’d have been up there in 1950.” — Humpy Wheeler, president of Charlotte Motor Speedway.
I have only scratched the surface of Yunick’s life with what I’ve shared here. To give you an idea, his autobiography, *Best Damn Garage in Town: The World According to Smokey*, was published in July 2001 and is available as a three-volume collection. The audiobook version, titled *Sex, Lies, and SuperSpeedways, Volume 1*, was narrated by his longtime friend, John DeLorean.
In 2014, I decided to quit my job at Powertech, and I went to work for another restoration shop called Phoenix Studio. If it was a wise decision, I still don’t know, but it was a different experience.
A salesperson in a restoration shop must perform various duties; there is no such thing as “this is not my job,” and at Phoenix Studio was no different. One day, I picked up a phone call from a lady looking for a classic car:
Lady: – “Hello, I am looking for a vintage Cadillac, it must be a convertible.”
Me: – “OK, any year model in particular?“
Lady: – “OH, it doesn’t matter, really. The car will be a birthday gift for my husband.“
Was that an odd request? Well, yes and no. Yes, because she didn’t care about the model, as long as it would fit in the budget she gave me, which wasn’t a lot, and no because if she was serious about buying a classic Cadillac, she called the right place.
Phoenix Studio was one of the premier restoration shops in the country. Thanks to the boss’s passion for Cadillac, the place quickly gained a reputation as a one-stop shop for all things related to the brand.
At that moment, there were a couple of Caddys for sale at the shop, but none were convertibles. I told the lady I would talk to my contacts and call her again. I went straight to the boss; after all, he knew every Cadillac for sale in the country. He wrote a phone number on a sticky note and said: “Call this guy; he owns a 1973 Eldorado, and he is trying to sell it. The car is not a Primadonna, but it might be exactly what your customer is looking for.” (Picture above).
I called the owner, and we set the price, including our commission. Then I emailed the customer some pictures and the price asked.
I called her a couple of hours later, and she seemed happy with what she saw in the email. The deal was going in the right direction; the customer was motivated by enthusiasm, and we found a classic car that fit her budget. I told her over the phone:
Me: “When would you like to come and see the car?”
Lady: “I live in São Paulo, I can’t come to Curitiba; you have to bring the car here. I will pay for the expenses.”
OK, now things have got a bit complicated. São Paulo is 400 km from my hometown, Curitiba. Logistics wouldn’t be a problem since Studio Phoenix had a truck to transport the Caddy. Fortunately, our accounting department calculated all the expenses like fuel, truck rental, and payment for the services of the driver and myself for 48 hours. Obviously, the boss charged a little extra, increasing the profits.
The following day, we loaded the truck with the red Cadillac and also a 1972 Buick Riviera that we would leave at a classic car dealer in São Paulo.
The boss was correct. The Eldorado wasn’t actually a prima donna. The paint job was not too bad, but it was far from showroom quality, and brake fluid was leaking from the cylinder and dripping onto the exhaust manifold. The problem was more than the occasional smoke coming from the engine bay, it was a fire hazard.
Mr. Coelho, our driver, is at work. Here, you can see the 72 Buick Riviera.
When we reached the outskirts of São Paulo, it was almost 5 pm because our driver took his time. He didn’t want to drive the big truck through the city during rush hour, which was understandable. So, I called a local truck driver who is well-known in the classic car/hot rod community to help us. Initially, he didn’t want to come because my boss owed him money. After I assured him that I would personally ensure that our accounting department paid him in full, he agreed to go and pick up the Caddy.
One of many tunnels in São Paulo.
It took us 1 hour and a half to cross the city, which wasn’t that bad, considering it was by the end of the afternoon. I just enjoyed the ride since I wasn’t driving. It was an excellent tour through the mighty São Paulo City.
Passing in front of the legendary Pacaembu stadium.
When we got to the place, I could confirm it was a very high-end apartment building. She opened the gate, and I drove the Caddy into the underground parkade, with the top down; after all, this is the right way to present a convertible to a client.
When I stopped the car before her, she couldn’t hide her amazement: -“Wow! This is the kind of car we only see in the movies!”
Yes, with almost 6 meters in length, this Caddy is massive, and the bright red colour with white leather interior makes it an imposing car.
Then she asked me to wait for her mechanic to come and inspect the Caddy. “If he says it is a good car, I will close the deal”.
So far, so good.
Fifteen minutes later, not only did one mechanic show up, but a team of 3 technicians arrived. They approached me, shook my hand, and introduced themselves: “Hi, we work for Batistinha; we are here to inspect the Caddy.”
And I thought to myself: “Now I am screwed. This deal will never happen.”
Let me explain: You will hardly find another place where the egos are more inflated than in the classic car universe, and egos get bruised easily. In this environment, it is easier to make enemies than to make friends. As you probably have figured out by now, Batistinha and my boss, they don’t like each other.
They jumped in the car and went for a test drive. The underground parkade was so big they didn’t need to take the car outside. After the driving, they inspect every inch of the Caddy, and while 2 of them were talking to the customer, the third came came to talk to me:
Tech: “We are sorry, dude. But we told the lady not to buy your car; I hope you understand. “
Me: “Don’t worry, I totally understand. You are just doing your job, as I am doing mine. No hard feelings.”
In the end, we all shook hands, exchanged pleasantries and excuses and we left.
Thankfully, the nasty rivalry between the shops doesn’t affect the lower level employees.
I called the boss, telling him the deal was off. He didn’t seem disappointed: “It is all right, don’t worry, Rubens, I told you, thecar is not a primadonna. Just don’t bring theCaddy back home; leave it at Siciliano. He might have better luck selling it.”
He was talking about João Siciliano, one of the most traditional classic car dealers in the country. João is a nice guy who didn’t mind opening his shop at 9 o’clock for us to leave the Caddy. Before pulling it into the shop, I drove the Caddy around the block, top-down, feeling like a mafia guy. That was the last time I saw the “Primadonna.”
We returned to the location where our truck was parked, loaded the Riviera onto the town truck, and the driver would drop it off at Siciliano’s shop the next day.
I was tired and starving; it had been ten hours since my last meal. Thank God our driver chose an excellent gas station to park at, with a good restaurant and a clean hotel to spend the night. I asked for rice, beans, steak, and fries. Good Lord, that was a meal to remember.
We talked a lot about the 1973 Eldorado, but here are some details that will make you acquainted with the machine.
It is a big car, with almost 6 meters in length and also pretty heavy with 2.3 ton (5092 lbs). It is powered by a massive 8.2 liter V8 (500 CID) that had been choked by the analog anti smog devices to a meager 235 HP.
Interesting fact, the Eldorado is a front wheel drive car, a detail that I didn’t know back then. I guess we never stop learning.
The deal didn’t happen, and I didn’t get my commission, but it was an interesting experience. It became another good story from the time when I was involved with classic cars.
In the world of motorsport, evolution is constant. If you were to compare a Formula One car from the 1970s to a modern one from the 2020s, the differences due to half a century of technological advances are simply astonishing. However, both vehicles still share some core similarities, such as having four open wheels, a mid-ship engine, and the assistance of aerodynamic components.
But the creative minds of engineers and designers never rest, and occasionally, someone tries to break free from the core concept that defines what a race car should be.
If you ask any gearhead: “What is the craziest race car that ever competed in motorsport?” I bet 9 out of 10 answers will be: “The 6-wheeled Tyrrel, from the 1970s.”
In fact, the Tyrrel P-34 was the most popular unorthodox race car that ever hit the race tracks. It competed for only two seasons, 1976 and 1977, but that was enough to make it unforgettable.
It looks like a jet fighter
In a more recent era, another ambitious and innovative race car deserves to be remembered, mainly because it never reached the popularity of the Tyrrell P34: the incredible Panoz/Nissan DeltaWing.
The creator of this project is the British race car designer and engineer Ben Bowlby. He is the leading character of this story, a lateral thinker and the leader of his team. Bowlby based his concept on the idea that a much narrower front facia can immensely improve its aerodynamics and make the car a lot lighter.
The first real opportunity for Bowlby to see his project become a reality came in 2009 when Chip Ganassi saw it as an attractive new car for the F-Indy. At this time, Formula One and WEC were trying new and revolutionary designs for their vehicles, and F-Indy was slowly opening its doors for something similar. To make the project become a reality, a consortium was assembled: Chip Ganassi Racing, Dan Gurney and his All American Racers team, Duncan Dayton of Highcroft Racing, and Panoz, which was the company that actually built the prototype. The car was presented at the 2010 Chicago Auto Show, and needless to say, the Delta Wing was a success among the visitors. (Picture above)
According to the initial tests, the Delta Wing proved slightly faster on straight and corner speeds than a 2009 Dallara IndyCar on both ovals and road/street courses with half as much weight, engine power and fuel consumption. The original prototype measured an unusually narrow 2.0 feet (61 cm) front track and a more traditional 1.7 meters (5 ft 7 in) rear track. The downforce comes from air passages on the car’s underbody, eliminating the need for front and rear wings.
Panoz used a chopped Aston-Martin LPM1 chassis to build the car, and it was powered by a 300 hp, four-cylinder, turbocharged Chevy engine assembled by Ray Mallock Engineering.
The Delta Wing was scheduled to debut for the 2012 season, giving the team time for the necessary tests and improvements. Unfortunately, the car proved too radical for F-Indy, and Chip Ganassi decided to use a more conservative project from Dallara.
Next stop: Europe
Bowlby didn’t give up when F-Indy closed its doors on the Delta Wing. Instead, he presented his project to the World Endurance Championship (WEC) in Europe and quickly received an invitation to compete in the Garage 56, an experimental class of the 24 Hours of Le Mans, for the 2012 edition.
The WEC is a place where automakers pour a considerable amount of money to have a spot on the grid; if Bowlby wants to make a splash, he would need a few heavy-weight partners. The first one to jump into the wagon was Michelin; the French tire company fell in love with the Delta Wing and promised to produce the exclusive tires for the car, according to the specifications from Bowlby and Panoz.
Nissan comes on board
The next step in this endeavour was to find an engine supplier with deep pockets, willing not only to provide the drivetrain but also help in developing the entire car and contribute to the costs of participating in Le Mans.
Rumor has it that Michelin insisted on having a French automaker as a partner, and Renault initially answered the call. The only problem was that they were already deeply involved in F-One, and the company’s CEOs decided to pass the project to their Japanese partner, Nissan.
With little tradition in motorsport and not very keen on revolutionary projects, Nissan reluctantly accepted the challenge. The company provided a 1.6-liter, four-cylinder, turbocharged engine found in the Nismo version of the Nissan Juke, capable of producing 350 hp.
Ben Bowlby and his team are at work at the Nissan facility.
Even if the car was being initially developed in the USA, the North America Nissan was not involved in the project. At the Delta Wing’s first test, at Buttonwillow in the California desert in March of 2012, Nissan of Europe brought a few engines, a couple of drivers, and a handful of engineers. They were so concerned about the Delta Wing crashing on the first turn that they de-badged the engines, put all their employees in plain clothes, taped over logos, and denied all involvement.
At the end of the day, the car performed quite well and Nissan felt confident to apply its logo all over it.
Since the Delta Wing would be competing under the experimental Garage 56 (racing for technological advancement, not for points and glory), there was no minimum weight rule to follow, and the team took full advantage of this. Each 4-inch-wide and 23-inch-tall front wheel and tires can be lifted with a finger, literally. The front brake rotors are the same size as those found on mopeds (keep in mind that most of the breaking goes to the rear axle). The team even gave up on the 6-speed transmission for a 5-speed just because it was lighter.
In full race trim, the car checked at just under 1,100 pounds; by comparison, the weight of the 2011 Le Mans-winning Audi R18 TDi was nearly 2,000 pounds.
Ready for Le Mans
The Delta Wing was received with mixed feelings at the La Sarthe circuit. Some people saw the car as exciting and thought-provoking, but others saw it as a laughable, toy-like car.
Among the naysayers, the biggest puzzle was: “How can those tinny front wheels steer the car at high speed?” But guess what? They can. It is the same principle used in drag racing: those tinny front wheels on a top fuel dragster are functional, and they are enough to keep a 10,000-hp beast on the track. It is physics, baby.
On their side, the team believed that a lighter car, powered by a small displacement engine, would give them the advantage of fewer pit stops during the race.
Nissan hired three excellent drivers but they had little experience on long duration races : Marino Franchitti (Scotland), Michael Krumm (Germany), and Satoshi Motoyama (Japan). The team was afraid that the drivers would not qualify during the night trials but to everyones relief, they did. On the day before the start of the race, Bowlby was optimistic:
– “We might surprise some people. We know the car can be very fast, we know it is very efficient and we know it races extremely well in traffic amongst other cars.“-
Darren Cox, the general manager of Nissan Europe, was also excited:
–“The Delta Wing is the most innovative and ground-breaking motorsport concept of its generation. The team aims to complete the famous endurance race using half the fuel and half the tire material of a conventional LMP race car.”-
Nissan wasn’t shy anymore trying to associate itself with the project. They brought hundreds of “extra” journalists to Le Mans, and immediately the Delta Wing became the star of the show.
For a revolutionary car that was developed in such a short period, the Delta Wing was performing surprisingly well in the race. Even with constant gearbox hiccups, the drivers were clocking solid lap times, just 1 sec below the LMP2 prototypes.
The Delta Wing made past the first 6 hours of the race, and the team was thrilled, but all that happiness wouldn’t last much longer. Nakajima, driving the #7 Toyota LMP1, pushed the Delta Wing off the track while trying to avoid slower traffic ahead, and Satoshi Motoyama crashed the Nissan prototype against the barrier.
According to the rules, a driver can try to make his car mobile again and drive it to the pits, but he must do it on his own. Motoyama attempted to repair the Delta Wing using the tools handed to him through the fence, but after more than 90 minutes, the tenacious Japanese driver gave up in tears.
The team left Le Mans with the bitter taste of defeat in their mouths, but in fact, their performance was superb. The Delta Wing was consistently clocking good lap times, and if the crash hadn’t happened (assuming the car would hold itself together throughout the race), it should have finished among the top LMP2 cars while burning half the fuel. Not too shabby for a project that Bowlby himself qualified as “incomplete.”
The next challenge for the Delta Wing was the 10 hours of Road Atlanta of 2012. The other teams shifted the way they saw the car; from a laughing stock at the beginning of the year, it became an “unfair.” competitor. The team had to follow unique rules, imposed to make the other teams happy.
For instance, the Deltawing had to start from the pit and could not start at the front of the field under full course yellow. Despite the obstacles, the team finished in fifth place overall. Driver Lucas Ordonez lamented that the restrictions and regulations prevented him from fighting for P1.
The shattered dream.
The alliance between Bowlby, Panoz, and Nissan began to crack just when the Delta Wing was at its top.
Bowlby believed that he had accomplished his mission. He demonstrated that his idea worked as he had predicted and hoped that the Delta Wing would motivate other engineers to think creatively. He was now ready for a new challenge.
Don Panoz saw the moment in a totally different way; he was the one who invested heavily to make the Delta Wing a reality, and now he wanted to make some money supplying the car to other teams. Bowlby was the father of the project, but Panoz owned the intellectual property of it. At this point; Don didn’t need Bowlby’s approval to turn the Delta Wing into a commercial success.
Nissan was in an uncomfortable position; they supplied the engine that powered the car at Le Mans and Atlanta (and a lot of stickers, too), but that wasn’t enough to claim any right to the project. Nissan knew that Panoz wanted to cut ties with them, giving their customers the freedom to choose whatever powertrain they wanted. As one could easily predict, this divorce was just about to turn sour.
Nissan managed to hire Bowlby as Director of Motorsport Innovation, and together, they created a closed cockpit version of the Delta Wing, called Nissan ZEOD RC (zero emission on demand – race car), powered by a hybrid powertrain.
The ZEOD had a much better performance and fuel efficiency than the original Delta Wing. Nissan entered the car in the 2014 24 Hours of Le Mans, and during practice, the car consistently reached 300 km/h plus going down the Mulsanne Straight. During the race, the ZEOD even completed a lap using only electric power.
Unfortunately, the car didn’t live up to expectations; the gearbox failed on lap 5, forcing its retirement.
The ZEOD project seemed promising, and Nissan wanted to expand it to the streets. A couple months after the release of the racing model, the company unveiled a small Delta Wing urban car with similar hybrid technology called Blade Glider.
Don Panoz couldn’t believe that Nissan had spent so much money and effort on a project with a design that belonged to someone else. Just a day after Nissan unveiled the Blade Glider, Panoz filed a lawsuit naming Ben Bowlby, Darren Cox, Nissan Motor Co. Ltd., Nissan Motorsports International Co. Ltd., Nissan International S.A, and Nissan North America Inc. as defendants.
The court battle dragged on until 2016 when both parties reached an agreement, and that was the end of the Nissan badged Delta Wing.
Final thoughts
2016 was also the last year the DeltaWing hit the race track (picture above). Panoz kept the dream alive for as long as he could, racing the car in the Petit Le Mans North American league and IMSA, but the lack of interest from other teams forced them to abandon the concept.
Don Panoz
Don Panoz was passionate about the Delta Wing, but he had to come to terms with its demise. He invested a considerable amount of money to transform it into a successful race car, but money was never a problem for him. However, the world of motorsport can be quite traditional, and not all unconventional ideas are entirely accepted.
According to some sources, Nissan had the chance to acquire the rights to the Delta Wing from Panoz for $60 million, but instead, they chose to have it for free. The company missed out on the opportunity to have a truly groundbreaking urban car, but it’s unclear whether customers would have embraced it.
Ben Bowlby
After leaving Nissan in 2017, Ben Bowlby returned to the UK and became involved in numerous other racing projects. There are rumors that he can not visit Georgia, USA, the home state of Panoz, due to pending criminal charges.
In the pits, nobody felt sad to see the Delta Wing gone. It always raced under the #0 as an experimental car, and as such, it didn’t have to obey strict rules like the other prototypes. It was unfair to the other teams, even though the Delta Wing never won a race.
Are there any survival cars? You bet. The chassis #003 can be seen hanging on a wall at the Panoz headquarters in Georgia, and a complete car (chassis #001) was up for sale in 2018 for $375,000. (Picture above).
Once again, my dear cousin, Sergio D. Florentino, visited São Bento do Sul in Brazil for the 19th edition of the traditional classic car meeting on July 6 and 7, 2024.
This is our TCM correspondent in Brazil, Sergio D. Florentino.
Sergio sent me hundreds of pictures of the meeting, and I decided to make a video with the best shots.
The majority of the cars there are products of the Brazilian automotive industry from the 1970s to the 1990s. They represent the most affordable segment in this hobby, but the prices are getting higher every day as they are becoming more scarce in the market.
I had a hard time choosing the pictures for the video, and perhaps it might be a bit too long, but I hope you will enjoy it.
Thanks for stopping by, and stay tuned for the next meeting.
It has been almost ten years since my wife and I moved from Brazil to Canada; time really flies, even when you’re not having fun. Although I am far from the Brazilian classic car scene, my cousin, Sergio Devens Florentino, keeps me updated on every gathering he attends and regularly sends me pictures. After all these years, I have a good collection of images, and it would be a shame to keep them collecting dust on my hard drive; it’s high time to organize and publish them.
Sergio is a passionate car guy who owns a small collection of Brazilian classics. I consider the guy more than a cousin, for me, he is like a brother from a different mother.
This first part is about an event that took place in 2019 in São Bento do Sul, which is located 110 km from our home city, Curitiba.
The parade of classics started even before getting to the meeting. Here are a few hot rods refuelling their thirsty V8s
Vintage military vehicles are a big part of any classic car event in Brazil.
The truck culture in Brazil is strong, and naturally, our passion for vintage trucks is also strong. Here is a beautiful collection of Scania-Vabis L75.
A 1971 VW Variant station wagon. The Brazilian version of the Squareback.The event was a success.
Sergio at work, taking pictures.
The beloved VW Kombi.
1989 VW Gol GTI, the first Brazilian car equipped with electronic fuel injection.
Brazilian Charger R/T, probably a 1975.
1938 Chevy Coupe Hot Rod
Jeep, the war hero.
1986 Chevy Corvette
Vintage radios are so cool.
Indoor meetings are not very popular in Brazil, but this one has become well known.
1959 Chevy Corvette
Mopar, or no car.
1948 Chevy Coupe
The Chevrolet Monza was one of the biggest hits of the Brazilian General Motors. This is a 1989 model.
Vespas.
The last generation of the VW Variant, 1978-1981
First gen Chevrolet Caravan 1975-1979
The most beloved Brazilian classic car – Chevrolet Opala.
A Ford Landau, based on the American Ford Galaxie. This one looks like an early 1980s model.
I hope you enjoyed this first batch of photos and stay tuned because the next one is coming shortly.
This is a well-known story that has been told over and over again among the gearheads around the world. Just like any other story/legend, this one can vary widely depending on who is telling it, but it mostly goes like this:
Ferruccio Lamborghini, the founder of Lamborghini Trattori and notorious bon vivant, was dealing with a very annoying problem with the clutches of his Ferraris. After repeated trips to Maranello to have them replaced, he demanded to see Enzo Ferrari. Some say Ferrari refused to talk to him, but eventually, Lamborghini got to see the Commendatori. He looked Enzo in the eyes and said: “Ferrari, your cars are rubbish!”
The conversation went sour in the most Italian way possible when Enzo replied, “You may be able to drive a tractor, but you will never be able to handle a Ferrari properly.”
“This,” Lamborghini later said, “was the point where I finally decided to make the perfect car.”
To be fair, Ferrari was not the only flawed GT car in the early 1960s; Alfa Romeo, Mercedes, Lancia, Maserati, and Jaguar were all complicated cars, to say the least, and Ferrucio had tried them all.
In 1963, Ferruccio founded the Lamborghini Automobili with the daunting mission of building the perfect GT car, which should offer style, performance, comfort, and reliability.
Although the history of Lamborghini is much more complex and interesting, I will focus on one car specifically to show how hard it can be to make a dream leave the drawing board and become a reality.
From left to right: Giotto Bizzarrini, Ferruccio Lamborghini, and Gian Paolo Dallara at Sant’Agata Bolognese in 1963, with a Lamborghini V12 engine prototype.
Ferruccio was a talented mechanic and a visionary entrepreneur. The agricultural business was booming in post-war Italy, and his tractors sold like hotcakes. He was also involved in manufacturing heating and cooling equipment for residential and commercial properties. Financially speaking, Lamborghini was much more comfortable than Ferrari, which enabled him to pull some talented young people from other companies, among them Gian Paolo Dallara, Paolo Stanzani, Bob Wallace, and Giotto Bizzarrini.
Lamborghini unveiled its first car, the 350 GTV, at the 1963 Turin Auto Show (pictured above). When the team was assembling the prototype, they discovered that the Bizzarrini-designed V-12 wouldn’t fit under the hood. With no time to redesign the car, the logical solution was to remove the engine for the show, but without its weight, the car’s nose didn’t sit at the right height. The solution was to ballast the engine bay with floor tiles from the factory and keep the hood closed at the show. Lamborghini has preserved a section of the original factory floor from which the tiles were pulled.
Seriously? No one among those talented engineers and designers bothered to check the measurements of the engine and the engine bay while the whole thing was still on the drawing board. This episode shows that Lamborghini’s team was far from a professional level and this kind of jerry-rig solution would become a norm instead of an exception.
After this long but interesting introduction, we can dive into the main subject of this post.
The Lamborghini Miura
Enzo Ferrari wasn’t ashamed to say that the only purpose of producing street cars was to raise money to keep the Ferrari race team competing. Ferrucio’s idea for Lamborghini was different; he had no intentions to get involved in motorsports; he just wanted to build GT cars. Should those cars be fast? Yes, of course, but not extremely fast.
When Bizzarini created the first Lambo V-12, he was not fooling around. After all, he was getting a bonus for every horsepower over what Ferrari’s V12 could produce. The 3.5 liter, quad-camshaft, all-aluminum engine could produce 350 HP @ “mind-blowing” 9,800 rpm. This machine was, in fact, one step above the Ferrari V-12 and could have been a great Formula One engine, but to Ferruccio’s standards, it was too wild for his cars. After many disagreements, Bizzarini left the company and founded his own sports car brand.
What Bizzarini had in mind when he created the V-12 was to bring Lamborghini to the race tracks, and he was not alone in that idea. Ferruccio deserves to be praised for hiring a young team (most of them were in their late 20s) instead of an experienced team, but he was having a hard time curbing their desire to build a purebred race car.
The New Zealander Bob Wallace, at work.
In 1964, Ford was already battling Ferrari in the Sports Prototype arena with the gorgeous GT-40, and the guys at Lamborghini were pumped up to build something similar. In 1965, Dallara, Stanzani, and Wallace began to work on a prototype called P400 (P stands for posteriori, or rear in English and 400 means 4-litre engine) during their spare time, mostly at night. The idea was to produce a street-legal sports car that could perform superbly on the race tracks—a unique car that could change Ferruccio’s mind about creating the Lamborghini race team.
Ferruccio didn’t mind the enthusiasm of his boys and encouraged them to continue their development. However, he didn’t promise to put the car into production; he viewed this new prototype as a good advertising stunt, similar to a concept car.
The first challenge was to fit the massive Lambo engine into such a diminutive car. With 42 inches long, it would be impossible to install the V-12 in the mid-engine position. After some consideration, the team devised an ingenious solution: they rotated the engine 90 degrees and positioned it on top of the transmission, just like the Brits did with the Mini. The casting for this engine/transmission package proved to be highly complex, mainly because the rear differential should also be part of it.
The P400 drive train is a magnificent piece of machinery (photo above); it is 1960s Italian engineering at its best.
In the middle: Carlo Anderloni of Carrozzeria Touring, Milano. Also in picture are Lamborghini engineers Paolo Stanzani (left with light jacket) and Giampaolo Dallara (right, spectacles)
Dallara used his expertise as a former aeronautical engineer to develop a beautiful steel chassis around the drive train.
The team got the rolling chassis done in time for the 1965 Turin Auto Show, and it attracted much more attention than the regular production Lamborghini GT cars displayed there.
The visitors and media were amazed at how the Lamborghini team enveloped the engine and transmission so neatly into the chassis. The transverse, mid-ship position of the drive train was quite unusual at the time, and everybody at the show was thrilled with the idea of such a small and lightweight car powered by an enormous V-12.
By the end of the show, more than ten customers had already made a down payment to secure a new P400, even without knowing what the body would look like.
Ferruccio was in a pickle; the rolling chassis that his boys created during their off-time sold better than all of his beloved GT cars together. The boss congratulated the team and gave them the green light to prepare the assembly line as fast as possible because 10-plus customers were waiting for the P400.
Dressing the beast
Design is one of the most important chapters of a car’s development, but when we are talking about an Italian sports car, then the significance of design becomes paramount.
Ferruccio wanted to hire a design studio with no ties to either Ferrari or Maserati. He invited Giuseppe ‘Nuccio’ Bertone, the boss of Bertone Studio, to examine the rolling chassis. Bertone accepted the challenge to create a stunning body for the car in record time for the 1966 Geneva Auto Show. The chassis was brought to Bertone’s Stile Department, and the task was given to another young talent, the 27-year-old Marcello Gandini, who had recently replaced the famous Giorgetto Giugiaro as the head of the design department.
Gandini and his team worked day and night to fit the bodywork to the innovative platform. Under the guidance of Nuccio Bertone, they successfully completed the project in just two months. It’s truly unique that they went from the first sketches to the running prototype in such a short time! Nuccio Bertone drove the car from Caprie to Geneva the night before the show opened.
The Miura was born
Ferruccio named the car Miura, after a Spanish fighting bull breed, in honor of Lamborghini’s recently created logo.
Gandini had created a masterpiece, one of the most beautiful sports cars in history. The design of the Miura is simple and clean, with a traditional appeal of the 1960s with a long nose and short rear deck.
It is inevitable to compare the Miura with the car that, according to some scholars, serves as inspiration: the Ford GT-40. The GT-40 was created as a purebred competition machine but could have easily become a street-legal sports car.
Both cars have curvaceous, sensual, feminine lines, a trademark of the 1960s, known as the most romantic period in sports car history. The Miura was originally designed as a street car, but the team also wanted to see it on the race tracks.
As was expected, the Miura was the star of the 1966 Geneva Auto Show, and at the end of the event, another 30 customers had made the down payment for the car.
Miura P400 especs.
Engine: Lamborghini V-12, 4 litres, quad-cam, all-aluminum. Rated at 320HP
Transmission: 5-speed manual
Weight: 1,125 kg (2,480 lbs)
Wheelbase: 2,500mm (98 inches)
High: 1,060mm (42 inches) – only 2 inches higher than the GT-40.
With a top speed of 280 km/h and an acceleration of 0 to 100 km/h around 6 seconds, the Lamborghini Miura was the fastest “production” car in the market. For the first time in history, the automotive media used the term supercar to describe the Miura.
A nightmarish sports car.
Everything was happening too fast; the Miura jumped from the drawing board to the production line in less than a year. Ferruccio, hoping to boost Lamborghini’s sales, gladly accepted orders for a car that hadn’t even gone through extensive trials and road tests.
The Miura proved to be a very problematic car, an absolute nightmare for the owners—precisely the opposite of the hassle-free car Ferruccio wanted to build.
Here is a list of the issues:
The chassis created by Dallara was a work of art, but it was not very stiff. The body, made of thin steel sheets (doors and center section) and aluminum (front and rear sections), didn’t provide much support either. The first generation of the Miura was a very flimsy car. Some structural reinforcements were later added, but the problem was never entirely solved.
During the development, the team adapted the same front and rear suspensions used on the front-engine Lamborghini GT cars, and the result was not so good. Muira’s handling is somehow poor when compared with Ferrari and Maserati.
The Miura was fast but dangerous. The design of the front end allows a substantial amount of air to flow underneath the car at high speeds, creating a frightening sensation as though the car is about to take off.
The innovative idea of having the engine and transmission housed in the same case means they also share the same oil. While this design solved the issue of limited space for the drive train, it also gave rise to a new problem: oil starvation. During long turns at high speeds, copious amount of oil would shift to one side, leading to engine seizures.
But the most alarming issue with the Miura was its tendency to catch on fire. The Lamborghini V-12 engine was equipped with four triple-barrel, downdraft Weber carburetors that were dangerously positioned over the spark plugs. If the carburetor floats failed or if there was contamination in the needle and seat, combined with high fuel pressure, it could result in gasoline spilling over the ignition components and causing a fire. Owners and mechanics took measures to prevent their cars from being destroyed, such as using trays at the base of the carburetors and installing fire extinguisher systems. However, despite these precautions, many Miuras were lost due to fires.
Ferruccio and the car he never wanted.
Ferruccio knew all these unsolved problems would soon torment the owners, so he concentrated the sales in Italy, making it easy to bring the cars back to Lamborghini for repairs.
There are stories of Ferrucio taking customers to long lunches and dinners to appease their ire, while their cars were being repaired. At this time, Lamborghini was far from being a well-established car company, with no more than 80 employees on the payroll. They desperately needed the Miura to succeed.
In 1967, Ferruccio reached his limit. Automobili Lamborghini was not heading in the direction he had always wanted, and although the Miura would soon receive the necessary improvements, he was frustrated with all the car’s problems. Instead of shutting down the company, he removed himself from his position and promoted Paolo Stanzani as the head of Lamborghini.
Stanzani accepted the new position but not without some conditions. This is what he demanded:
“You are the boss of the company, I know that. However, you will not come and create dissent, override me in front of people, or put your nose in things. Understand that you can ask me anything but speak only with me.”
P400S
In 1968, with Stanzani as the company’s captain, Lamborghini released the Miura P400S with some very welcomed updates. The chassis received structural reinforcements; front and rear suspensions were revised, and larger tires were adopted, considerably improving the car’s handling.
The interior of the Miura that belonged to Frank Sinatra.
Interior comfort was traditionally neglected in Italian sports cars of the 1960s but the Miura should be different; the P400S was equipped with power windows, and air conditioning systems was optional.
The P400S propelled the “popularity” of the Miura around the world. Frank Sinatra bought one in 1969. Former factory Sales Manager Signore Ubaldo Sgarzi recalls Sinatra’s unannounced visit to the factory, with a specific request for no publicity; Signore Sgarzi gave Sinatra a tour of the Sant ‘Agata works. The car, with chassis #4407, was painted in Arancio Metallico and trimmed with wild boar skin leather and orange shagpile carpeting – orange was Sinatra’s favorite color. The dispatch date is recorded as 12/12/69, Sinatra’s 54th birthday! The car survived these days; after changing owners a few times, the Miura was auctioned in 2003 and now belongs to a collector.
The Jazz legend Miles Davis also owned a Miura, but he crashed the car while driving under the influence of narcotics. Davis supposedly fell asleep at the wheel and totalled his car. He was taken to the hospital with both ankles broken and released the following day. As soon as he recovered from his injuries, he bought another P400S.
P400SV
This 1972 Miura SV was found in Brazil in 2020, but the car was involved in some shady deals back then. This story alone deserves an article here at TCM.
In 1971, Lamborghini unveiled the ultimate version of the Miura, the P400SV.
The most significant changes were related to the drivetrain. The gearbox now had its lubrication system separate from the engine, which prevented annoying engine seizures. The company claimed that improvements on carbs and camshafts increased power output to 385 HP. However, Bob Wallace, the New Zealander responsible for overseeing engine production, later said that these “improvements” never happened. The Miura’s V-12 always produced between 320 and 330 HP throughout its eight years of production.
The SV has wider rear fenders to accommodate the new 9-inch rear wheels. The car came equipped with Pirelli Cinturato 215/70 R15 front and 255/60 R15 rear tires.
One of the distinctive features of the Miura is the famous “eyelashes” around the headlights, which were removed on the SV model, making it easier to differentiate the car.
1973 was the last year of production of the Miura. Its gorgeous body style had no place in the 1970s, a decade that became known for its weird, angular design concepts.
Just like any other Italian exotic super-car of that time, the Miura was produced in very limited numbers:
Miura P400 – 1966 to 1967 – 474 units Miura S – 1968 to 1970 – 140 units Miura SV – 1971 to 1973 – 150 units
Bob Wallace just couldn’t help himself and eventually built a single racing prototype based on the P400SV called “Jota.” The car was sold to a private racer in April 1971. The new owner crashed it on the yet-unopened ring road around the city of Brescia, and… you guessed it, the Jota burned to the ground. There are a couple of recreations of the car around the world, like the one pictured above.
Life after the Miura
Controversial, groundbreaking, problematic, and legendary, the Miura was the car that Ferruccio never wanted to build. Still, at the same time, the car made Lamborghini what it is today. Without it, the company wouldn’t be more than a footnote in automotive history.
The partnership between Stanzani and Bertone continued, and together, they created a worthy successor for the Miura, the Countach. (Not my cup of tea, though).
Lamborghini was never profitable at that time. The company went through various owners – questionable deals with Ferruccio’s personal friends, shady foreign business people, a handful of bankruptcies, and even the Italian government. In 1987, Chrysler bought the company and kept it alive for many years.
It was under Chrysler’s ownership that Lamborghini ventured into Formula One, the company supplied engines (V-12, of course) for Larrousse (1989–1990, 1992–1993), Lotus (1990), Ligier (1991), Minardi (1992). Lamborghini even had its own official team in 1991, although under a different name, Modena.
Automobili Lamborghini was acquired by Volkswagen in 1998 and became its third luxury brand alongside Bentley and Bugatti. The Germans, as expected, put some order in the house, and Lamborghini finally became profitable and successful.
In 2024, Lamborghini introduced the SC63 Hybrid (shown above) in the Hypercar class, the highest category in the FIA World Endurance Championship. The car will compete against formidable opponents, including their longtime rival, Ferrari.
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: