It is with a great yearning that I await the return of cars from yesteryear at Le Mans, but not this year it is sad to say; the Le Mans Classic is a biennial event which takes place on even numbered years. The Goodwood Revival is every year and started in 1998, but France was not long in responding and the first event of the Classic took place in 2002 with a panoply of cars from the evocative Bentley's of Woolf Barnato days through to cars of the late 1960's, each car running four one hour races, two by night and two by day, over the 24 hour period. Le Mans is without doubt the greatest endurance racing event of all time, far better in my book than the Daytona event in February since it is run on public roads not purely on a track, and the sights, sounds and sheer magnetism of the event is hard if not impossible to surpass. Now we are treated to a flashback of the same event but this time with the smell of Castrol R hanging like perfume in the air as dawn breaks and a two ton leviathan appear out of the morning mist, followed by silenceand then - oh such a magical moment - the sound of a woodpecker hammering away as if in unison with his environment. The first event brought in 30,000 spectators and not every race was full, 2004 brought 50,000 and 2006 70,000 but for next year we await greater things; onwards and upwards! I hear all races are already full already, such is becoming the magnetism of this event.
The start of some of the races is done in authentic style with the drivers lined up on one side of the track and running to their cars. Start your engines! Here is the start of the 1929/39 period race:-
And then a shot of the cars on the famous Mulsanne straight:-
As each era of cars passes, so the atmosphere, the speeds achieved and the tenacity grows terminating last year with the added era of the 917 Porsches and the GT40s etc. Here the sheer intensity of the racing takes on a new meaning with there being no more "gentlemen" racers cheerily waving faster cars by from open cockpits but accomplished drivers, some professionals, hounding each other down in the bid to win the laurel wreath at the end of the weekend. As day transforms into night the driving becomes difficult with the setting sun directly in the eyes of the drivers. Here is such a shot as two E types leave Mulsanne for Indianapolis on public roads shut especially for this race.
Like all good events, and to borrow a phrase from Brooklands, the event is run on the basis of "the right crowd and no crowding". People there to enjoy racing, to enjoy a convivial drink, to spin yarns long into the night, to watch with awe as the alien (surely no human being could do it so deftly) at the wheel swings two tons of Bentley through the chicane, narrow tyres howling, elbows akimbo and a regard of such intenseness it could pierce sheet steel. In the paddock it is either feverish intensity or lackadaisically relaxed, depending on whether the car needs attention or not.
The era changes, and we see the mythical D type Jaguars in action, here showing two shots which I personally treasure, although sadly one is slightly out of focus because the camera focused on the rails and not the cars.
The second shot here is actually the first as they approach the hump on the straight, and you'll notice the drivers are looking at each other and sharing a magic moment as nearly 50 years on the magic of yesteryear is relived
Le Mans isn't just about racing though since the camaraderie and friendship transcend all, plus there is a great number of shops selling all kinds of ephemera and things both old and replicated to a willing throng of buyers. Here is one of the displays.
Even transporters, buses and competition support vehicles from a bygone era are there to add atmosphere:-
Even a boat for sale!
But we all have time for a beer and a chat, enhanced by a wandering minstrel jazz band:-
As day transforms into night, the risks increase and somehow the atmosphere changes as the drivers struggle to see in the gathering gloom. 10pm, the sound of thunder, and here we see the start of the GT40's and similar cars:-
Thundering into the night, the field spreads out, each driver having his own personal battle as he wrestles his car through the bends. Here a Maserati and GT40 fight it out at the end of the pit straight:-
Day breaks, tiredness sets in and sometimes, dangerously, a lack of attention. A C type follows an Allard, the Allard's bonnet badly attached flies off and ther C type driver swerves to avoid being decapitated. He hits both sides of the track, turns upside down and the car catches fire. The race is stopped and the car removed. The driver amazingly escapes with just a few burns and broken collar bones:-
An E type uses the escape road and awaits a gap to rejoin the race but never makes it being collected by another white E type which loses control on the bend:-
Racing recommences after the accident and we hear the growl of V8 engines arriving from afar. The noise intensifies as thhree Gt40's, a 427 Cobra and a 250 GTO Ferrari sweep up the hill to pass by at 160mph:-
The second lap, and Adrian Newey fights it out for the lead with Ray Bellm, both in a GT40. Pit straight, the Dunlop Bridge, Tertre Rouge, neck and neck to the first chicane. Who will out brake who, which car will exit victorious? Adrian Newey brakes too late, skips over the gravel and the tyre barrier does the rest:-
Cars come from all over the world for this event - a D type from Ecuador, a Ferrari from the USA. Strangely, the last time I saw this D type was in Phoenix at Terry Larson's garage;-
Finally, the last race as the cars from the 1970's snarl by; here, exhausts spitting, they swoop down to the Mulsanne bend, braking from 180mph to 50 in a brief few seconds
And so we come to the end of yet another glorious racing weekend. Tired, dazed, we salute the cars on their parade lap then head home for a welcome beer and barbeque. Tales are told well into the night until we gratefully fall into our beds, dreaming of opposite lock and sweeping past the chequered flag. Will we do it again? The house is already fully booked for 2008.
Telling tales of derring do
no matter what of whom or who
salute these Gods in the guise of men
talk of times we remember when
we were free to walk in pit lane
listening hard to the raucous refrain
of engines turning, 4, 6 & 8
cylinders whirring at a glorious rate
Castrol R, a perfume divine
Will you be my valentine?
Mustang will you marry me
for in 7th heaven we'll surely be
The mists of time part and again I hear
friends departed, loud and clear
May such events never dim or pall
for as long as I have the wherewithal
I'll do my utmost to follow you all
Till the trumpet sounds its very last call
