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Condor Files

Zandvoort ’63

 

Europe, 1963 was where it began.  Now, first you must understand that there wasn’t any television coverage of formula one races in the good old USA in ‘63.  Everything I knew about F1 came from race reports and photos in magazines that would arrive by mail weeks after the event.  Therefore, the first time that I ever witnessed a F1 car in person took place in the sand dunes of Holland at the Zandvoort Circuit.  I was immediately blown away by the sounds and the unbelievable entry speeds into the corners.  Wow!  This was even better than I imagined it would be.

That evening, fueled with adrenaline after my official F1 introduction, we drove the short distance to Amsterdam for dinner, drinks and to try our luck with the local female population. We were having a wonderful time, but at some point after mid-night it was decided that it was time to return to Zandvoort and camp near the race track.  It was weird when we approached the venue because there was nobody in sight, so we entered the track and parked where we had earlier that day.  Zandvoort is a beach town and it was having typical coastal weather, wet and foggy.  It was way too damp to sleep on the ground and we needed a roof over our head.  After scouting around we thought the unmanned pit boxes looked like the most logical choice.  We grabbed our camping kit and trekked over to the pit and paddock area and selected a random F1 team box to be our dorm for the night.

We were tired and a little drunk, so we slept very well.  Too well it turned out.  Our plan to leave before the team’s arrival Sunday morning failed to happen.  The first mechanic to enter our lodge inquired, “Jesus Christ!  What in the bloody hell are you guys doing in here?”  Since this outburst also served as our alarm clock and we didn’t have an answer, we did the next logical thing and engaged him in conversation about racing.  As it turns out, we had randomly selected the Cooper team’s box to call home.  The drivers for Cooper that race were Bruce McLaren and Tony Maggs of South Africa.  I will digress for a moment, two months later in London, I had dinner with Tony’s sister (or was it cousin? never did get that straight) and she thought it was very funny that we had slept in Tony’s pit box.

After a few more mechanics arrived, we reluctantly cleared our camping gear so the Cooper F1 team could have their work space back, wished the lads good luck and walked up the dunes to select our seat for the race.  It was not the greatest race, but it was still amazing to be a part of such an exciting event.  The race was won by the great Jim Clark [Lotus] followed by Dan Gurney [Brabham] and John Surtees [Ferrari].  Richie Ginther [BRM] was fifth and the other Americans were Jim Hall [Lotus BRM] in eighth and Phil Hill [ATS] a DNF.

As we were walking through the paddock area, which in that era was less sophisticated than today’s SCCA National racing paddock, we spotted Dan Gurney standing alone.  Being a Condor in training, I could not resist the temptation and quickly pounced.  Dan was in a good mood after his podium finish and was amazingly nice to us as we stood around and chatted for a good twenty minutes.  It may have had something to do with the Oslo Ski Jumping Pins that our group was wearing that got our conversation off to a good start because he wanted to know all about our ski jumping exploits.  I can’t remember if we told Dan that we actually traded for them in an Oslo bar or if he thought we were legitimate ski jumpers!  In any case, it was nice to see that my racing hero was also a very good guy.  Heading for the gates, we told him that he would see us again the following weekend in Reims for the French GP.

Not a bad start for my maiden F1 experience.  Next stop will be France, where a couple of other crazy things happened.

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Condor Files

I Give You The Condor!

NEW CATEGORY ALERT!

After months of cajoling, begging and pleading for help, I’m pleased to announce that The Condor is ready to soar and reminisce about the days of yesteryear.  Racing today can be tedious, so what better time to introduce a category dedicated to being a buzzard in the 60’s and 70’s?  We’ve all heard about the triumphs and tragedies that took place on the race track during that perilous era, but now we have the opportunity to be transported back in time to relive the experience from a fans perspective.

Before we proceed, I need to remind you how one achieves the level of Condor.  You don’t just automatically progress from Race Fan to Buzzard to Condor.  It takes decades of dedication to the craft to be able to grasp the powers of a Condor.

Question:  How do you know when you become a Condor?

Answer:   You reach the level of Condor only when you can sit in a grandstand for hours on end in a state of total Zen, feeling at one with every driver and car on the circuit, knowing if a driver is operating in harmony with his car, if he or she is happy or sad, if the car is peaceful or stressed and you possess the ability to telepathically send encouragement to both driver and car.

One such man who possesses all of these powers and then some is my very own father.  His racing resume is impeccable and you would be hard pressed to locate another person in California who has dedicated so much of his life to being a fan of road racing.

Some of his highlights include:

  • F1 Races Attended: 40
  • First Race: 1950 USAC Sprint Cars at Bay Meadows on dirt
  • First Sport Car Race: 1953 Pebble Beach
  • Attended the first races at Laguna Seca, Sears Point and Long Beach.
  • Drove solo from Palm Springs, CA to Montreal 10 years in a row to watch the F1 race.
  • Was sitting in the last corner at the 1970 Monaco GP when Jack Brabham made an error and let Jochin Rindt through for the win.

I could go on and on, but I’ll let him tell the tales in due time.

But be prepared for the Condor to educate you on various buzzardly subjects such as:

  • Track Security –  A reason why security did not have to be so tight was that the race cars and all associated equipment was taken back to the local city, town or village each evening. The teams set up shop in the garages of the auto dealerships, repair facilities and gas stations. It was like an open house!
  • Crowd Control – Spectators were supposed to stay behind the snow fences lining the track and this was generally observed with the exception being Italy whenever a Ferrari was leading the event.  The attitude seemed to be if you were brave enough to sit there, it was your problem if a car ended up in your lap.  Being fleet of foot was a real advantage for the daring Buzzard.
  • The Box:  Some of you younger readers may find it curious as you are watching a F-1 race on TV and the team instructs the driver to pit by calling out “Box Box Box, this lap”.  What the driver pulls up to hardly looks like a box. However, back in the day, the pits were little boxes all lined up in a row.  For a clever Buzzard the box could also be a substitute for a hotel room!

 

Stay tuned for more Condor to come.