Memories of Zot

Road America 500, 1964.  The GTZ was a beautiful car, with an aluminum Zagato body over a tubular space frame.  Thus
Giulia Tubolare Zagato: GTZ.  In retrospect, it was the final flowering of the 1950's Gran Turismo racer concept, like its
big-bore Italian brother, the Ferrari 250 GT SWB and Porsche's offering, the 904 GTS.  Yet it raced highly modified
production cars like the Ford Lotus Cortina as a "GT," and against production sports cars like the Lotus Elan in the
SCCA.  By the mid 1960's, European-spec GT cars were obsolete and uncompetitive in SCCA sprint racing. 

In 1964, Chuck Stoddard was invited by Alfa Romeo to drive a factory GTZ entry at Sebring.  This was because of his winning record in Giuliettas in the SCCA's Central Division in G Production and D Production.  At Sebring he co-drove with Jim Kayser, another noted Giulietta driver of the time.  They won their class (beating, among others, Jim Clark in a Lotus Cortina).  The other three factory-entered GTZ's failed to finish.  The Kayser/Stoddard GTZ is now in the Revs Institute Museum in Naples, FL.  I knew Chuck personally, because he owned an imported car store in my town, where I worked in the summers of 1963 and 1964.  (Talk about a great first summer job!)

Chuck, doing his thing in the GTZ at Sebring.

After Sebring, Alfa made Chuck an offer he couldn't refuse: "We'll sell you a GTZ at a very friendly price if you will campaign it in the USRRC in 1964."  It turned out to be the only GTZ campaigned in the SCCA, in-period.  He ran in U2L in '64 and then in C Production in '65.  He then finished 4th in the Run Off's at Daytona (the first year of a truly National Championship run offs).  And then he retired from racing.

"Zot" was named by Chuck's regular crewman, John Huddleson.  Chuck himself had a penchant for gag names.  He had a mini-fridge in his office (which I cleaned) labeled "PHOOD."  But he didn't name his cars.  John read the "B.C." comic strip (we all did), and thought the idea of the GTZ ant-eater vacuuming up ants was funny.  As it turned out, John was prescient.  John's own contribution to The Saga Of Zot was significant.  In practice for the USRRC race at Mid-Ohio in '64, Chuck lost a gear in the tranny.  So he was ready to DNS.  John said, "Well... we could rebuild it..."  So they towed home from Mid-Ohio to Cleveland, rebuilt the tranny overnight, and John towed the TZ back to Mid-Ohio while Chuck slept in the back seat of the '58 Pontiac Bonneville tow car.  He finished 3rd the next day.

Watkins Glen: winner, U2L, USRRC.  Mike Gammino's Ferrari GTO was at
the Glen with race number 23.  The two cars made a beautiful pair when
Mike lapped Chuck.  But Mike was DNF.  Chuck finished 6th, behind the
three factory Cobras and two privately-entered Cobras.

I was privileged to clean the car and hold tools for Chuck in 1964 when he prepped the TZ on weekday evenings between races.  It was a remarkably reliable car, especially for a highly-tuned one.  He never had a DNF in Zot in two full seasons of racing.  So the checklist was mostly that: brake pad wear, etc.  I was also privileged to "crew" for Chuck twice.  He ran an SCCA National at  Mid-Ohio to shake down the TZ (finishing 2nd to a Porsche 904).  At Watkins Glen he won U2L, headed only by five Cobras (including the three factory entries).  Aside from Chuck's trouble free run, my main memory of Watkins Glen is how difficult the Cobras appeared to be to manage.  Even the 289 was a squirrely car to drive.

Chuck's car was "factory racer" in all respects.  In fact, it had been Consalvo Sanesi's test mule, reconditioned before sale to Stoddard.  (Alfa ran a factory team of TZ's in major European races.)  As such, it was very long-geared: set up for long, fast European circuits like LeMans and Monza.  This worked well at places like Watkins Glen and Road America and Meadowdale; less so at tighter circuits like Mid-Ohio.  The TZ had very wild valve timing, and thus a high-speed "brap-brap-brap" idle.  The Conrero tune got about 175 h.p. out of the Giulia's 1.6 liters.  The TZ weighed about 1400 lbs. dry, so it was about 1800 lbs. on the starting grid, ready to race.  Notwithstanding this set-up, Chuck was able to get the clutch in, in street driving, and sometimes tested the car on Route 20 where it ran past the dealership.  The only change he made to the car in two seasons of racing was to replace the factory Jaeger "watch movement" tach with a more accurate U.S.-made Sun electronic instrument.

The TZ in the Road America 500 (USRRC) in 1964.  Stoddard drove solo (!)
to another U2L class win in a typically crowded field of big bore and small
bore cars.

Stoddard's favorite circuit was Road America; he had back-to-back wins there in 1964 and 1965.   In '64 he won U2L in the USRRC and in '65 he won C-Production in the June Sprint Nationals.  Road America was of course well-suited to the TZ with its long straights at the exit of (mostly) fast corners.  Chuck had plenty of experience of Mid-Ohio (his "home track"), Watkins Glen, and Road America. But many of his earlier races in the 1950's were at airport circuits like Cumberland and Akron.  He ran once at Meadowdale and Greenwood (in Iowa), both of which had short lives as active road racing circuits.  This resume is typical of road racers from the Midwest who "came up" in the 1950's.

Stoddard's record in the TZ over two seasons was: four 1sts, three 2nds, two 3rds, and one 4th (at the Runoffs at the end of 1965.  After a successful 12-year career in the SCCA, most of it in Alfa Giuliettas, he sold the TZ and concentrated on building his imported car dealership, which became an "exclusive" Porsche-Audi store (as required by Porsche when it took over its own distribution in the U.S.) in 1968.

Above and below: Mid-Ohio, 1965.  Chuck is a big guy (6'-3"), and the TZ was a tight fit.  It was the only closed car that
he ever raced.  Victory lap with his then lead-mechanic, Bob Nikel.  Chuck generally took only one "helper" with him to
a race event.  His racing philosophy was "If the car isn't ready, don't put it on the trailer," so he really didn't need an
experienced pit crew--just an extra pair of hands, sometimes, and someone to keep the lap chart.  He started racing
in a Siata in 1953. He bought the TZ from Alfa Romeo for $6000, raced it for two full seasons, and sold it for the
same price when he retired from racing at the end of 1965.  In the 1970's and later he became one of the U.S.A.'s
"Mr. Porsches."  But in the late 1950's and early 1960's he was "Mr. Alfa Romeo." 

Book Report: "Alfa Romeo TZ-TZ2: Born To Win," by Vito Witting de Prato

"GTZ" has nothing to do with Gran Turismo.  It stands for "Giulia Tubolare [tubular] Zagato.  Doesn't that trip nicely off the tongue?  For me, this is a good book, but not a great book.  It is expensively produced and elegantly designed, with lots of large photos (including color) on high-quality paper stock.

Knowing something of the TZ myself, it was disappointing to see that the author, Vito Witting da Prato, knew nothing of Chuck Stoddard's very successful SCCA seasons in 1964 and 1965.  da Pratto wrote, wrongly, that the TZ was not raced in the States.  (For the sake of a second edition, if there is one, I corrected this in direct communication with him.)  Along the same lines, it was disappointing that the book does not include a table of the car's FIA race results.  (da Prato's accounts of Sebring and the Targa Florio are good, and his accounts of LeMans are passable.)

Another complaint is that English is da Pratto's second language.  He has lived in the States, and clearly has a command of spoken, idiomatic English.  He wrote the book in English.  But his command of formal, written, English is insecure and often confusing.  It often seems like he's trying to translate Italian into English, particularly technical language.

That said, da Pratto was presented with some unusual challenges.  The chassis history of TZ's is not well-documented, sometimes intentionally so by Alfa Romeo, Scuderia St. Ambrosia, and Autodelta.  There are differences in perspective and memory among some of the key players in the development of the TZ.  da Pratto tries to resolve this somewhat by inserting sections into the book called "The Protagonists Speak."  I found those Q & A sections unenlightening and often even more confusing.  There are a lot of allusions to, but not clarifications of, internal politics at Alfa Romeo and between Alfa and Zagato and Autodelta.

Having got my carping out of the way, I'd like to say what I really enjoyed about the book.  First, the pictures and drawings, many rare and previously unpublished.

da Pratto gives a fine account of the roots of the TZ's design in previous Alfa Romeo models, and its (unusually long) gestation and development.  Zagato in particular was pursuing a "true" Kamm tail design, of which the TZ may be the most pure real-world example.  It is interesting to think about the TZ as one of the last, most fully-developed concepts of a GT car, like the Ferrari 250 GT SWB or the Porsche 904.  The TZ really was dual purpose and could be road driven.   As required by the FIA, well over 100 examples of the model were produced.

The TZ2 was, essentially, a different car--a race car.  From the outset, it was intended for competition only.  Only 12 or so cars were produced.  It shared a power train with the TZ, but the frame was highly modified and the body was fiberglass.  All TZ2's had limited-slip differentials and close ratio gearboxes; none of them had windshield defrosters.  They had dry-sump engine lubrication.  They rolled on 13-inch wheels, damped by two-way adjustable Koni shock absorbers.  The suspension links were adjustable.  TZ2's were 200 kilograms lighter, and 4 inches lower.  There were, essentially, no interchangeable parts.

Although the TZ's gestation period was unusually long, it was still (barely) competitive with later, less expensive designs like the Lotus Elan.  The TZ2, an "evolution" of the TZ, seems to have been doomed before it raced.  For one thing, the rear-engine revolution was well underway by 1965.  For another, the FIA by then required 500 examples (not 100) to be produced to qualify as a GT car.  So the TZ2 found itself running in the Sports class with cars like the Porsche 906.  And by 1966, Alfa Romeo, encouraged by the results of the TZ, was back in big-time sports prototype racing with the Tipo 33.

Book Report: Daring Drivers, Deadly Tracks, By Brian Redman

To answer the basic question, yes, this is a page-turner.  At least if you are interested in road racing in the 1960's and 1970's.  Redman's writing is as engaging as his after-dinner speeches.  The book has plenty of high-quality pictures, most in color, some rare.  It is organized in an interesting way: some chapters are an account of a given season, others group his experience of legendary circuits.

Daring Drivers, Deadly Tracks is, in many ways, a backward-looking reality check.  Redman bears down on his theme that the human cost of racing was unacceptable.  He stresses how he (and others) were in denial about the risks.  It wasn't so much that drivers tried to refute or deflect thinking about risk.  They simply put it out of their minds. Redman often couldn't sleep the night before a major race. Then he went out and raced--hard.  He is grateful to have survived three potentially fatal crashes.  He gives full credit to Jackie Stewart (and others) for leading a charge toward passive safety.  He didn't participate in it.

Road racing at the top level was so different then.  In 1970, by then a firmly established pro driver, Redman was paid $750 per race (plus expenses) except for $1000 each for Daytona, Sebring, and LeMans, by Porsche.  His 10-race income was $8250.  My salary for my first job out of college, which did not involve risking life or limb, was $8400.  Using the rule-of-thumb X10 Inflation Factor, Redman would have been making something north of $84,000 in today's money.  No front-rank international driver would pick up the phone, now, for that.

For that matter, Redman explains his few appearances in Formula 1 thus: he could make way more money racing in Formula 5000 in the States, in a more competitive but relaxed series, in a car that was just as fast as a Grand Prix car.  Yes, he did race Ferrari 312 PB sports cars in Europe very successfully in the early 1970's.  But who needed the pressure and emotional abuse of driving in Formula 1 for Enzo? Redman was, first and foremost, a driver-for-hire.  He went where there was the most money, best chance of winning, and least aggravation.

BTW, off-topic, the best, most makes-the-hairs-on-the-back-of-your-neck-stand-up, racing I have ever seen was Formula 5000.  Those cars were insane beasts.  They handled better than Can-Am cars.  But that made them faster through corners.  There was nothing between you and and a hard hit if things went pear-shaped.  And they were open wheel cars, so the chance of something going wrong was higher than in a Can-Am car.   

Redman confirms that drivers could feel the frames of Porsche 917's flex.  And so on.  It was a thrill to read about, and recall, the glory days of balls-out road racing.  But I don't miss them.