Last of the Nice Oldies Pix (For Now)

Above and below: Lola T-540 Formula Ford, old enough to run in the Classic class.  Would you drive it into a corner at 110 m.p.h.?  I wouldn't.  But at age 20, I would have.  Happily.  This one is a a rent-a-racer; the owner books drivers easily because they know his standard of preparation.

Bugatti Type 37A replica at a vintage race. 1.5 liter four-cylinder supercharged. 

Above and below: no idea.  It's a LWB Ferrari--that's not the hard part.  The nose and windshield say "Daytona."  The side vents say "330 GT."  The rear says "big-bore 1950's," like a 340.  The notchback roofline says...what?  Did somebody roll a 330 GT 2+2 and have it redone to taste?  If it's a re-body, it's exquisite: check out the surface development, panel fit, and shut-lines.

Some More Nice Oldies Pix

More snapshots from vintage car races, car shows, and museums.

1956 Austin Healey 100.  The folding windshield on these cars charmed me back-in-the-day, and still does.  I was told this car has been in the same family since new.  Yes, it's restored, not a "survivor" or "preservation"classs car.

I've always had a "thing" for the Jag XK-150 convertible.  It was bigger, heavier, and slower than the XK-120 and XK-140, and thus never a factor in sports car racing.  By the mid-1950's, Jaguar was doing very well, thankyou, selling luxury sedans in the States.  And the Corvette and the Thunderbird were available.  So this model was always a bit of a step-child.  But the curved windshield and surface development of the body make this car look "more right" to me than the XK-120.  This one has the old California "yellow plate."  I hope it had some memorable times on Sunset Boulevard,  its natural habitat.

Cockpit of the 1939 and 1940 Indianapolis 500-wining Maserati 8CTF. 

Well... Pilote is a pushover for 1950's-1970's Alfa engines, especially if they have big Webers hanging off them.  This is the engine bay of a locally successful GTV club racer.

And he's especially a pushover if an Alfa has a bundle-of-snakes exhaust system that delivers that ripping-canvass sound.

Some Nice Oldies: A Lotus Pix Post

In no particular order, and for no particular reason, the next three posts are snapshots of cars that elevate my pulse.  These pix happen to be Lotuses, save one.

A Lotus Eleven, replica/clone of the 1955 Le Mans 1.5 liter class-winning car.

I call these guys "Team Teal."  They call themselves "Puppies Racing."  There are two other cars; one is a Mazda RX-3 sedan.  All are turned out in teal and silver,  numbered 101, 202, 303, and 404.  Foreground: a Lotus Eleven clone street car with wire wheels and windshield.  Background: a small-block Corvette Singray.

Cockpit of the Lotus Eleven clone: "All Mod Cons."  I'd drag this one to the Dragon.

The original Lotus Elite.  It was a fiberglass monocoque with a metal subframe for the engine and transmission in front and a steel hoop at the A-pillar.  This made it extremely light, and also prone to the suspension pulling out at the attachment points. 

All-aluminum, SOHC Coventry-Climax engine in the Elite above.  The stock engine was 1.1 liters, but some cars were built with 1.5 liter race-prepped engines, of which this might be one.  Either way, these are the biggest Weber carbs I've seen on an engine this small.  Do you need this much carburetion on a non-crossflow head?  Purdy, though... 

That Other Ride (Ferrari 250 GT)

OK, no need for a spoiler alert, because it was a ride around the long road-test block (about 3 miles) in a commercial-residential neighborhood.  And it was a customer car that had just had an oil change and minor tune.  So it wasn't pushed hard in the 4 street corners and one sweeper.  We didn't see over 100, and most of the time were around 60-70.

The 250 GT Coupe could be thought of as Ferrari's first production car, in the sense that Enzo asked PininFarina to design and build over 335 identical steel bodies in series from 1958 through 1960.  By Ferrari standards of the time, that was a long run.  Another way to think of it is the "entry-level" Ferrari, at $12,000.  Using Pilote's customary 10:1 inflation rate (for sodas from a vending machine, postage stamps, and basic transportation cars), a 250 GT Coupe would cost about $120,000 today.  Not again until 1975-1985, with the 208/308/328 series of V-8 rear-engine cars, would a Ferrari model be made in these (and greater) numbers.

The PininFarina steel-bodied, long wheelbase, 250 GT Coupe.  The one Pilote rode in was white, but an owner previous to the current one had painted the top metalflake gold.  This was a notably unsuccessful attempt to customize Italian Minimalism.

Rear view:  this is the much rarer 250 GT California Spider, even prettier (with faired-in headlights), but the back is the same.

The Office, almost: this is the cockpit of a 1962 SWB (short wheelbase), more compact, but otherwise nearly identical.

The engine: 3.0 liter V-12, SOHC, six carb throats, 260 horsepower.  This one lacks  an air cleaner, which street 250 GTs had. 

The power was smoothly and effortlessly delivered.  Although a V-12 is "two sixes," it feels (and sounds) smoother than a V-8.  I don't remember Ferrari's famous V-12 wail through the muffled exhausts, just revs.  The car was quiet.  With a 4-speed box and a tall final drive, we were easily doing 90+ inside of 3/8's of a mile, shifting up into third.  Braking was fine; the 1960 model I rode in had discs.  It was (of course) stable through the 80 m.p.h. sweeper.

Not long after my ride, the owner exchanged the 250 GT for a brand new '63 Corvette split-window coupe (in Arrest Me Red).  I believe the 'Vette had the 300 h.p. / 327 cubic-inch carbureted engine, and it probably had factory air, unheard of in early 1960's imported cars, including Ferraris.  I didn't get a ride in the 'Vette.  I'd guess that, although its power-to-weight ratio was higher than the Ferrari's, the 'Vette was quicker off the line.  And as much or more fun around town, even on those narrow whitewall cross-ply tires.  Both were big by sports car standards.  The Ferrari was more a highway car: extremely long legged, with a higher top end.  Not that you could use its potential much on speed-limited roads.  It was a classy, civilized, easy-to-drive, high-speed GT; and didn't feel racecar-y at all.

Zen And The Art Of Car Washing

Many years ago, I read a book called Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance, by Robert Pirsig.  It was about a cross-country motorcycle trip, but was really a long essay on mindfulness.

Back in the day, I worked on my own cars: changed the oil and filter, adjusted the ignition timing, set the points.  ("What's a points?" I hear a 30-something ask.)  This is not to claim master mechanic status: my biggest projects were changing out brake pads and installing new engine valves.  I never rebuilt an engine.

Decades passed.  Electronics now rule under the hood and dash.  I'm not sure I could get up and down from a creeper.  So my cars have gone to a trusted independent mechanic for almost 20 years.  If he can't handle it, they go to dealerships.  (I still do my own walk-around when the car is up on his lift).

In winter, my everyday car goes to a drive-through brushless car-wash.  It has an undercarriage spritzer that does an OK job of getting the road salt off.  But in the other three seasons, I hand-wash my cars.

It is a little exercise in mindfulness.  Doing a thorough hand-wash can be a Zen-like experience.  You focus on careful execution of the task.  Time slows.  Your brain de-clutters.  Here's a blemish.  Is it a bug splat that needs a second pass, or a stone chip you're stuck with?  Are there new scratches?  How should they be dealt with?  Rinse thoroughly.  Redo the panel if necessary.

Let the doors hang open to drain as you dry their shut-lines and backside surfaces.  Pop the hood and trunk: wipe down the interior seams and the engine compartment.  Open the sunroof and wipe down the frame.  Windex both sides of all windows.  Leather treatment for the seats.  Vacuum the interior and trunk.  Slow but sure and steady.  (It takes me about 2 hours to do a thorough hand-wash.)

Anyone who is "into'' hand-washing has a series of steps that works for him.  You don't have to consult a checklist because one step leads to the next.  It's like driving in a familiar neighborhood: the auto-pilot in your mind takes care of "getting there," while your attention is focused on details.  When you're finished, you've re-connected with your car and feel satisfied with a job well done.  Stand back and admire your handiwork; maybe take The Annual Picture.  Then a drive to knock the rust from the brake discs.  One-ness with your car.

Virginia International Raceway

Oh, Joy... (to watch, not so much to drive unless you are good).

Watched the ALMS race here on TV.  V.I.R. was dimly in my conciousness in the '60's, but I never saw a track map.  It didn't host any of the big SCCA pro events then or into the early '70's.  When it arose from the dead, so to speak, a few years ago, I thought "what a neat little track!"

Well, it's not little: 3.3 miles with lots of elevation change.  And, in a fast car,  fast.  Turns 1, the 7-12 ess complex, and 14-17A are as challenging as can be found in North America.  Racers complain that V.I.R. is narrow, with few places to pass.  But its technical difficulty makes it a charmer.  It's also lovely to watch at, on TV or (I'm sure) in person.  Lots of green grass and those afore-mentioned elevation changes.  It deserves to be a regular venue for top-rank road racing, along with Laguna Seca, Mid-Ohio, Mosport, Road America, Road Atlanta, and Sonoma.

Off topic: the current C.E.O. of ALMS says that the merger with Grand-Am won't mess with the rules governing the GT class.  "It's a fan favorite, and a no-brainer: why mess with something that ain't broken?"  We shall see.

Baby Got New Shoes

The O.Z. wheel tags (taken out to 4 decimal places!) average 15.088, so Tire Rack's 15 lbs. per wheel was spot-on.  The lightest wheel weighs 14.848 lbs.; the other three are 15.167 lbs.   This is according to Sergio, who's employee number is 74.  I like that: reminds me of when each Porsche engine had its assembler's initials stamped on the crankcase.  That's a 2.2% (5 ounce) difference, for those of you keeping score at home, with 3 of the 4 wheels identical.  (No, I have no idea why the O.Z. website claims 13.9 lbs. per wheel.  But, as previously mentioned, I couldn't find a lighter 17 X 7 wheel.)

Dealing with Tire Rack was painless.  What I wanted was in stock, the tires were mounted and balanced before shipment, arrived overnight in damage-resistent packaging, with no missing ancillary parts (like lug nuts and centering rings).  You can probably buy cheaper, but you can't buy more hassle-free.  And Tire Rack has a broad enough inventory that you can get relatively candid advice from their phone sales people.

I asked my salesman what kind of tire pressures their people run on their own street cars.  He said "4 to 7 pounds higher than the car manufacturer's recommendation on the door jam.  But if you do, your wear may increase."  The tires were delivered inflated to 40 lbs.  I took them down to 37 front, 33 rear for baseline experimentation.  This compares with the 35/33 I was running before, and Honda's recommended 33/33.  So far, cruising around town, the ride seems more supple over joint strips and manhole covers.  The car has not been driven aggressively yet.

The O.Z.'s will be easy to clean.  No sharp ridges or corners.  Thanks to friends & relations who weighed in on the color choice between Anthracite and Black.  The vote was 2 to 1, with 2 abstentions, including me.  So when the sales rep. asked "What color," I said "...um...Anthracite...?"  Hadn't changed my mind by the time we rang off.  I think I prefer it.  Although the wheels are painted, they  look like aluminum, which is what they're made of.  That satisfies my taste for authenticity and minimalism.

Before: as delivered.

After: O.Z. Alleggerita HLT alloys, same size as the o.e.m. wheels.  The offset is unchanged, so hub bearing life should not be a problem.  Easy to see why they're 6-7 lbs. lighter: lots less metal.

 Ego self-stroke shot: closeup with my Dragon sticker in the frame.  The rust on the discs and hubs complements the body color.    ;-)    It would be pleasant but wrong to say that I thought ahead about open-spoke wheels when choosing the body color.  It's a daily driver, so what I see is what I get.