Back to France Pictures

Article by Wayne Baker and Skip Carter In August 1998 Stanley Gold saw the Monterey Historic races and wanted to get involved. This became his From the Grass to the Asphalt program (from Concours to Racing and Touring). He asked his friend, Del Johnston, how to get involved in vintage racing. Del recommended me and my shop, Personalized Autohaus. In February, 1999, we had scheduled a thirty minute meeting that lasted three hours. Out of that meeting I was instructed to find a car that I thought would be most appropriate for the newly formed team: Shamrock Racing. After much consideration, I chose a 1967 Porsche 910 2.0 liter, a light 1250 pound (delight to drive) endurance machine. These cars were designed for endurance racing and only twenty-eight of these coupes were made. The car we purchased had one of the best factory 910 racing histories in. Our goal was to compete in the Tour Auto 2000. Formerly known as the Tour de France, the name was changed to avoid conflicts with the famous bicycle event. In September Del suggested that he and Stanley prepare and enter Stanley's 1964 Carrera 2 sunroof in the regularity class of the Tour Auto. This left the 910 as the team competition car for me and a copilot to campaign in the 1966-73 Group. When American drivers raced at Le Mans, the smart teams always picked at least one French driver to help with the politics and language barriers. Del found and recommended Yves Junne, vice-president of MOTUL (synthetic oil products). Yves held the required FIA license with ten years of vintage racing in 356s and 911s (and spoke excellent English). He was a tremendous help to our team both on and off the track. He helped facilitate shipping, paperwork, insurance and hundreds of other minutia. One particular item was trying to get permission from Tour organizer, Patrick Peter, to run the vintage tires we had used at the Monterey Historics. I couldn't get a "yes" or "no." After Yves agreed to be my co-pilot, I asked him to look into this. Twenty-four hours later I had the tire approval and I knew we'd asked the right man! My shop prepared the cars, organized the spare parts, tools, and everything else we needed for shipping. Del handled the entries, insurance and shipping coordination. Stanley arranged transportation, accommodations, cell phones, and chase vehicles (one per car). The last two months prior to shipping we worked seven days a week. A diverse group of people contributed to this effort. Electronics from Jerry Kendrick; Pascal Giai with photography and the press; Jacques LeFriant with data acquisition; Brian at Pauter Machine; machinists Mack and Charles; Rick at Autopower; Bob Butler for headers; Burt at Roger Kraus Tires; Jose at Track Vision for the on-board cameras; Paul at The Dyno Shop; Skip Shirley for transporting, metal fabrication and exotic welding; crew chief Glenn Roberts; mechanic Brant Parsons; Del Johnston, the king and team consult; Stan's secretary, Denise Greskoviak; the air charter crew and Shamrock team owner Stanley Gold who supported this entire, multi-talented team 100% at every turn. And finally, but certainly not least, our family and friends. Now, in my racing experience you had a couple of days practice, a press day and lots of opportunity to get to know the track before they drop the green flag on race day. In this event you go to a racetrack after coming off a 150-200 mile tour, you pull up to the track, your group has three or four laps of practice, you're lined up in qualifying order based on your finish in the previous stage, they drop the flag and you're off racing, rain or shine. I began to worry about my lack of knowledge of the tracks and, after losing a few nights sleep over it, I decided to go to France. Yves and I coordinated a five day intensive itinerary in March. He lent me the family Volvo and his son's bicycle. At Nogaro I spent half a day driving an 80 hp Renault, front wheel drive school car. My instructor and I started class at 9:00 am in heavy rain. This track is very tight and technical with guardrails ten feet from the track lining the entire circuit. I was trying to learn the line. He was trying to teach me how to drive a front-wheel car. We finally reached an agreement that learning to drive a front- wheel drive car was not one of my graduation requirements. I managed to lose the car on the entry to a high speed right/left sweeper. I helped it around, did a 360, dropped a gear and continued on (as he swallowed his gum!). He immediately directed me into the pits for some instruction. At 11:30 he declared school over and invited me to continue. After five more laps of sliding, drifting, and nose fishing, I pulled in. He declared me "Doctor of the Wet, Professor of Rain!" and issued me a certificate. Next stop that afternoon was the Albi circuit, an active airport and a three hour drive away. It is closed to practice but the airport manager allowed me to ride a bicycle around the circuit as long as I didn't cross the runway. With a 40 mph wind, rain and very cold, I took my camera and rode the bicycle around the track to take pictures of the turns. About 90 percent around the track I came to the runway. If I crossed that 100 feet I was close to my car. Otherwise I had a 2-1/2 mile ride back the way I had come. With no one in the tower, no air traffic the entire time I had been there, I am a licensed pilot and flight instructor (did I mention I was cold and hungry) I decided to beat a quick path across the runway. I tossed the bike in the car and left in a hurry. After three more days of this type of activity I left for home with a sinus infection and pneumonia. It was well worth the effort. This planning proved invaluable during the actual event. On April 4th we flew to Paris where we immediately unloaded the sealed container holding the cars and spare parts. We found the cars cad plating and magnesium castings to be heavily corroded. Also, the slide valves on the 910 motor were frozen. The moisture picked up going through the Panama Canal had condensed. This moisture and the container sitting 2-1/2 weeks at Le Harve caused severe corrosion. We did enough work to drive the cars from Charles DeGaulle airport to the Hotel Splendid near the Eiffel Tour. The owner of the hotel (who also owned the body shop across the street) was going to let us use his shop to service the cars. When we arrived he was out of town and no one wanted to let us work in the garage. This could be a major delay, so Jacques (our New Orleans accented, French speaking team member) befriended the news stand owner (who controlled the parking spaces in front of the hotel), the door man (who accommodated other traffic around us) and a female cop (who let us work on these cars on the street in front of the hotel). Working on cars in the street is emphatically illegal in Paris. As we set up, the hotel manager was very concerned warning us that we could be taken to jail. Del and Stanley wondered if we were really going to work outside in the wind and the rain. "When we raced" I said, "we rarely had a garage to work in and we are used to working with what's available." They said they didn't want to be around when I was hauled off to jail, so they went shopping, checking in every couple of hours to see if we were still there. At the end of the second day we had completed our repairs and were satisfied the cars were ready to tour 2000 kilometers and ten competitive stages. The event ran over five days from Paris to Dijon to Vichy to Nimes to Toulouse to Biarritz, the finish. There were two stages each day. The morning had either a hillclimb or a rally stage, and four of the afternoons had track events, which were at Dijon-Prenois, Magny Cours, Albi and Nogaro. Our support vehicles were twenty foot diesel moving vans that cruised at 15 mph uphill and maxed out at 60 mph on the flats. Jacques followed the Carrera 2 in one van while Glenn and Brant used the other van to follow the 910. After the cars were serviced we had a couple of days to relax, see the sights and do a little shopping. On Monday, April 10th, we drove the cars to the stagging area by the Eiffel Tower where we received our entrance packets, presented our licenses, completed medical checks, showed registration, ownership and insurance information. Then were we went to Scrutineering, French for Tech Inspection. Again Yves' abilities got us smoothly through. We left Tech with the number "10" assigned to us, our starting position each morning. After installing the decals I noticed my money belt was gone. It had my drivers license, gas card, passport and cash for gas ($2.60 a liter for 98 octane!). So I spent the rest of the day at the American Embassy filing theft reports and canceling credit cards. Many of you may know that dinner in France typically starts about 9:30 and lasts two hours. Those of you who know me also know that I typically am in bed by 7:30. This dinner routine left me dragging by the time the tour actually started, but we were ready for the 7:10 am start the next day. The ladies planned to stay in Paris for three days then on to Biarritz for another two days of shopping with a pact not say the word "car" for the entire five days. We were to meet them in Biarritz at the end of the tour. We left the starting line with police escort. After the six miles to the freeway we headed to the Montlhery circuit road stage, seventy-five minutes away. Stanley and Del were assigned number "119" and left 109 minutes after us, one car leaving each minute. At Montlhery we did one, three kilometer lap with a time of 2 minutes, 7 seconds (22 seconds slower than the best time). This was a section of road we'd never seen. It left us 31st for the first stage. The next leg was 250 kilometers away at Dijon's Prenois race track. The roads en route were fairly good and we arrived in good time for our three laps of practice. We grided 19th based on our time in the morning stage. When the race started it was cold, windy and rainy. Our little 2.0 liter 910 managed to finish 5th on a horsepower long course. This we were pleased with. We overnighted in Dijon. With a 7:10 start the next morning we headed to Larochemillay, a six kilometer road stage, completely new to everyone. The road surface was one foot wider than the track of the car on a combined hill climb and descent road through forests with people standing four or five deep on the edge of the road, even on the turns. We were really hanging it out. This was all new too me, but we finished 5th, only 16 seconds behind the leader. After checking in for the next tour stage we stopped for tea. Yves was very quiet. I got out of the car to help him out and he was white as a sheet. He asked me if I'd ever done this before. I told him I had not. Well, he had, but never with someone who stayed on the throttle while power sliding around turns. Getting in the right seat is difficult. It always feels 60 mph faster from that position. But that was our baptism by fire. We became a team in that cockpit and Yves was as solid as a rock. Yves drove the car between stages. He did a beautiful job of caring for the car, shifting carefully, being particularly careful of dips and other road conditions that could have torn the front end off the 910. This slow, careful driving between stages caused us to miss most of our lunch stops in order to arrive at our next destination within the allotted time. You could be early, but there were time penalties for being late. We set out for the Magny Cours Formula 1 circuit, 150 miles away. We were grided 8th and had some great, tight racing with a 2nd place finish. This placed us 3rd overall out of ninety-five cars in our class. We were very pleased. Considerable servicing was done to the cars at night and getting to bed was always very late. We averaged about four hours sleep each night. Missing lunches and dinners became commonplace. By the third day we had a handle on chase and service techniques. We learned that a fast SUV was a better way to go than our slow moving vans. This tour was turning into as much of an endurance of man as machine. Each day our car ran stronger and stronger as we became more familiar with this hillclimb/tour format. The 3rd day was to have had two stages. After overnighting at Vichy we left for the Mont Dore road stage which was canceled due to heavy snow. Our bypass route left us on black ice and six inches of snow for three and a half hours on our way to the Le Vigan, our next road stage. We arrived in one small mountain town where we could not climb a hill due to the ice and snow. Yves again saved the day by asking a local Frenchman who directed us to a shallower grade up the mountain. It was twenty degrees below zero. Did I mention that the 910 didn't have a heater? We had no braking feeling. We had little or no turning ability other than the snow piling up on the side of the tires on switchbacks. We were so happy to see a little village two hours into this adventure that we stopped for a cup of tea and a thirty minute warm up at the cafes little wall heater. From this point we were on a 1st gear descent. If you had to stop.... you couldn't. Thankfully we reached wet pavement an hour and a half later and, continuing on, we reached the next stage one minute before our deadline. Whew! When the 4.4 kilometer Le Vigan road stage was completed we were 3rd in class and fourteen seconds behind the leader. It was a long day, with fifteen hours of driving and no lunch and no time for dinner. Two hours behind us the Carrera 2 rolled in. Both cars were again serviced that night. This left the crews with even less sleep than the drivers. Day four (Friday) had us at the 4.8 km Roquefort road stage. Light rain and wet had us on the clocks on a meandering course alongside cliffs and into valleys and rolling hills. These were extremely rough and narrow roads with bridges and train tracks that could launch you off the ground. We were getting the hang of this road stage venue and were very happy to finish 4th, only three seconds behind the leader, who was driving a 475 hp Ligier. This next 120 mile section was to be the twistiest, tightest portion of the event. We arrived at the Albi circuit with 2-1/2 minutes to spare. This gave us twenty minutes to prepare the car for the practice and race. We qualified 4th on the grid. When the green flag dropped we started from a dead stop. Red light, green light, go! By the first turn I was in 8th place, just getting the little 2.0 liter up to speed. By the fifth of eight laps we had the lead, winning the race. This was our first overall stage win. We were ecstatic. The crowd appreciated the good, clean, wheel to wheel racing. This left us 1st overall going into the final day. That night we arrived in Toulouse at 8:00 pm in heavy rain. For once we got a meal and were in bed by 1:00 am. The next morning, due to attrition, our #10 car was in the 3rd starting position. Following a police escort, Glenn had left ahead of us in our chase vehicle, the 20 foot, Hertz moving van. We left two minutes later. A half mile down the road the surface street dropped down into a tunnel. When we arrived, to our astonishment, the entire rear body of the moving van lay smashed at the entrance to the. I slowed to first gear passing the wreckage. In the tunnel we saw our tools, luggage, spare parts and tires scattered for 250 feet. There was no sign of the rest of the truck until we reached the far side of the tunnel. There it was, stripped of the cab top and the body. It was buckled with the middle two feet higher than either end. Glenn was out of the truck with a cell phone trying to call us. The air ride seat had launched him into the windshield. His nose was broken but the seat belt had saved his life. We called officials and medical help. Our other chase vehicle came and picked up the stuff dropped by the first truck. Glenn refused to go to the hospital (his nose could be reset in San Diego). He wanted to be at Nogaro for the last stage. We had a chance to win overall and he wanted to be there. Our lost time was forgiven after Yves (another save) appealed to the organizers. Next was the 6 km Cadours road stage and then the Nogaro race circuit. At the Cadours stage the surface was wet. We needed to finish 5th or better plus win Nogaro to win overall. We put our best effort into the stage finishing 1st in class, only two seconds behind Walter Rohrl, 5-time European rally champion (who drove the section an hour and a half later on dry road). We were both very excited. We knew we had a chance to win the whole tour. Yves was giving lots of instructions, most of them in French (which I didn't understand). We arrived at Nogaro thirty minutes early. Our crew was already there. I suggested they completely nut and bolt the chassis. The previous section of road was as rough as any we'd driven. They found the left rear track rod, one brake caliper and one brake duct had loosened. With a set of fresh race tires we had three practice laps and, for the first time, we were on the pole. Wow! We advised the first three rows behind us that our "no torque" 2.0 liter engine would be slow getting off the line compared to their more powerful cars. I'd stay in the middle of the track giving them passing lanes left and right into the first turn. Seven turns later we were back into the lead. Half way down the back straight a GT40 blew by me. He hit the braking point at 300 meters. I passed him and hit the binders at 75 meters, dropped from 5th to 2nd gear and headed into a series of tight turns leading to the front straight (oh, those Porsche brakes!). We were never headed again and finished 1st with the overall win for cars in the 1966-73 competition class. But, alas, we still had 180 miles to go from Nogaro to Biarritz. We had to be on time. Yves drove beautifully all five days and drove this final eighty miles of smooth toll road. He had my blessing to open it up to redline to see how she ran. He took it up to 162 mph for a few moments and averaged a steady 125 mph. At 162 mph the car felt like my '59 356 at 55 mph. This car was built for speed, not rough roads! We waited for Stanley and Del to arrive so the Shamrock team could enter the ceremonial finish line together. Yves asked which of us would drive the 910 across the finish line. I tossed a coin; he called "heads." I picked up the coin, rolled it over and showed him the "heads." You never saw a happier and proud French pilot finishing that tour in front of his countrymen. Thousand of people and press were gathered. We met our ladies, who had used up our credit cards while we were touring. At the car park on the beach in Biarritz the Shamrock air crew broke out the champagne. Yves gave a great closing speech. Del and Stanley presented him a special gift of coco mats for his 356, which excited him as much as anything the previous five days. The next evening Stanley treated the crew to the finest seafood in Europe. I thank family and friends and particularly Stanley and his wife, Ilene, for allowing the team to grow and develop. We look forward to the hard fun of racing and touring in the future. Stanley took home three beautiful trophies from this event and I'm sure he has a nice spot for them in his car barn. PS: My money belt, lost in Paris, was anonymously returned with my passport, credit cards and briefcase key.