I need to buy a Ferrari if it is not expensive but I will try my best to have one.

 

When I first became interested in sports and racing cars, I read everything I could get my hands on that dealt with the subject of high performance. Road & Track, Motor Sport and Car and Driver magazines were must-reads. Add to those the elegant and beautifully produced Automobile Quarterly and one could learn quite a lot about cars and the people who made and enjoyed them. Of course, I wanted more than to just read about these experiences. I wanted to take part. I wanted to race cars.

I began by reading two excellent books. The Technique of Motor Racing by Piero Taruffi and Racing and Sports Car Chassis Design by Michael Costin and David Phipps. It would be more accurate to say that I devoured these books reading them over and over. I began to understand apexes and braking points and concepts like polar moment of inertia and center of gravity as they applied to making a car move faster through a corner. It was a good start but I wanted more.

So it was that I went to the Jim Russell Racing Drivers School with its classroom near Rosamond, California using Willow Springs Raceway for the practical application of the lessons taught. It was my first time in an open-wheeled formula car--a Lotus Formula Ford. There was no synchromesh on the gears so one had to match engine revs with every shift while learning how to control every aspect of the car's behavior to the maximum extent possible. It was a lot to concentrate on because it was not driving for fun, it was driving for precision. Surprisingly, I was told to limit my revs--and therefore speed--and to focus instead upon accuracy with regard to braking points and apexes, entrance and exit points when cornering. As I would later experience when learning to fly glider planes, the deep concentration of the early stages became seat-of-the-pants instinct very quickly.

As we progressed, authorized speeds were increased. Finally, I thought I was moving along at a pretty fast pace between Turns 2 and 3 when a track version of a Shelby Mustang GT350 blew past me like the Lotus was parked, which taught me a valuable racing lesson that applies to street driving as well. Always keep an eye on your rear-view mirrors.

Years later, my familiarity with the track served me well when my friends and I spent the day at Willow Springs with the GTOs and several other Ferraris. More recently, John Fitch told me something I hadn't considered offering an interesting perspective. He said, "It is more important to go fast in the faster corners than in the slower ones since you gain more time in the longer corners." Rest assured, I've been putting that into action.

I have always thought that schools like Jim Russell should be required of all who drive a car on public roads. I think the current driving tests--at least in California--serve only to notify the public of the codes for which they will be fined when they are violated and have nothing to do with car control and competence.

 

Another great story!!! Thanks a lot for sharing and please write a book about it

 

I just passed your note to my publisher!

 

Mulholland Drive is an iconic road to anyone growing up in Los Angeles combining the properties of a Lover's Lane and a Mille Miglia-style road course. It overlooks the San Fernando Valley on one side and Bel-Air, Beverly Hills and Hollywood on the other. It represents a sort of carefree abandon that cuts across and through the serious nature of a sprawling city. It is escapism from an enforced reality and the reality of those who have escaped, if only for the duration of an exciting drive.

In my youth, I enjoyed such a reality when Peter Helm, his friend Rick and I took our Ferraris onto Mulholland for some fun which Peter captured with his 8mm camera. Yesterday, at the instigation of Elysée Wednesday regular Richard 'Bongo' Mitchell of Black Horse Motors, we took a literal and figurative trip down memory lane and drove a Ferrari 330 GT 2+2 along the same stretch of Mulholland between Beverly Glen and Laurel Canyon. We were accompanied by Jeanette Dumouchel, a producer with me on the Carrera Panamericana documentary, and Chad Glass who rendered the poster for the doc. We all took a turn at the wheel of the Ferrari and while the vintage handling of this thoroughbred was a new experience for a couple in our group, it was a strong dose of déjà vu for me. The familiar sound of the free-revving 4-litre V12, the feel of the big Nardi steering wheel and the action of the 5-speed transmission (it was a late series model) conjured an era that is long gone but no less exciting for its passing.

We documented the entire drive with the Panasonic P2 HD camera and, at one point, we stopped along the side of the road to shoot static shots and stills of the car. The 330 2+2 is much more compelling in life than in any photos I've ever seen. This one, originally sold by a wily Enzo Ferrari to Pat Boone who had really wanted to by a Superamerica--no one ever made a success of saying no to Il Drake--is in beautiful condition and attracted the attention of one the ubiquitous tourist vans that cruise the city which stopped in the middle of the road to gawk at us.

Though I felt at home in the 330, I told Richard I would need at least an hour with the car to be comfortable finding its limits. As a 2+2, it is not the Lusso and far removed from the GTO in which I enjoyed this road in the past but it was great fun to drive and was really intended as a comfortable, high-speed touring car for the Friday night rush from Paris to Toulon for a weekend of sailing.

My thanks to Bongo and Black Horse Motors for a most enjoyable morning!

 

Ferrari on Mulholland (again) - YouTube

I thought I would post some clips of our morning on Mulholland. No editing or narration--just raw footage. A teaser of things to come.

 

I found myself standing at the entrance of the Plush Bunny behind a velvet rope when someone waiting to get in asked me a question. There was too much noise--a band playing inside the club and a noisy crowd outside--and I didn't hear what he was saying. I was about to ask him to repeat his question when I saw that he was preparing to punch me in the face. Talk about telegraphing a punch, this guy took a longer wind-up than Hideo Nomo. I was going to wait for him to throw it and and parry the blow. As a guest in Matthew's night club, I didn't want to abuse his hospitality by delivering a counter-attack to one of his paying customers. Before any of this could develop and before the fellow could conclude his extended wind-up, a fist came flying past my left ear from behind and landed squarely on the malcontent's nose causing a deformation worse than the time Matthew crushed the front end of the Breadvan into a mountainside in Malibu. It was 'lights out' and the fellow dropped like the proverbial sack of potatoes. Ronnie Melthrotter had a devastating right and was never slow to demonstrate it. He ducked under the rope and gave the fellow a nine-count while his assistant Richie glowered at the crowd discouraging any further shenanigans. As the fellow regained consciousness, his friends carried him off to a car never to be seen again.

The 'Bunny was an interesting night club and Margaret Mead would have found plenty to fascinate over watching the dynamics and inter-actions of the patrons and staff. There was always live music, minimal conversation and some pool tables. I was commonly at the 'Bunny when I should have been in school--I signed up for night classes because Peter Gibbons and Elliot Bliss were teaching cinema classes in the evening after putting in a full day at CBS Cinema Center as heads of the camera and sound departments. I got straight As in all my courses, so my absences did no damage. The same might not be said of my attendance at the 'Bunny. I became quite a good pool player though I discovered you can shoot ten great games and the eleventh reveals you to be a complete fraud. The music was hot, the girls were hotter and there was always action of one sort or another to keep things from getting dull.

Regularly, Matthew would appear at the door to his offices and motion me inside. I'd follow him through the outer office--always filled with people I didn't know and whose function was undefined except to say you sure as Hell weren't going into the inner office to see Matthew unless you were invited or were one of the inner circle. I had open access. I would be summonsed to hear a wacky deal proposition from someone completely out of touch with reality, to meet an amazing woman or to be introduced to some legend in the Ferrari world. Nothing short of these would warrant pulling me away from the pool tables and the other action in the club. This was 'A Moveable Feast' that delivered to your door.

Every year, the 'Bunny celebrated New Year's Eve by announcing a gala presentation of the Ike & Tina Turner Revue. It was always a sell-out and much anticipated. I would be surprised if scalpers weren't re-selling the tickets. I always made it a point to be present. Every year, at the beginning of the evening, Matthew would go onstage to make the introduction for the night's entertainment, but only after reading aloud a telegram from Ike Turner apologizing for their absence and explaining that the tour bus had broken down in Blythe or some other godforsaken place. The replacement would be Mr. Clean, a black saxophonist with a shaved head who did great Junior Walker covers, or El Chicano playing their then current hit Viva Tirado. In any case, no one wanted a refund.

At two in the morning when the club would close, Matthew and I would climb into our Ferraris-- the Breadvan and the GTO--which were parked at the club's entrance and race away with the girls we had invited to breakfast. I usually made it home by ten the next morning and to school for afternoon classes. In the following years, Matthew would have other clubs but they were more conventional and not the exclusive sort of domain that was the Plush Bunny. What wonderful times they were!

 

In recent months, I've made the acquaintance of Larry Crane after Richard 'Bongo' Mitchell said I should speak to him about his Carrera Panamericana tribute Ford as I was shooting the Carrera documentary at the time. I made contact with Larry and he graciously joined us in the hills of Griffith Park so we could include footage of his car and an interview with him in the Carrera documentary. During lunch at the Figaro Bistrot on Vermont, I discovered we both loved cars to an extraordinary degree and shared an appreciation for David E. Davis.

In the months following our first meeting, Larry has attended Elysée Wednesday--usually with Ed Niles in tow--and we have exchanged our views on various car-centric subjects. A few days ago, Larry wrote to me saying he was interested in doing a profile piece on me for Westlake Malibu Lifestyle magazine. Why not? It was during the course of his interviewing me that he makes reference to photos he shot of my Ferrari GTO. This took me by surprise and I asked if I could see them. He sent them immediately.

What surprised me was that--though the photos were obviously taken during the time I owned the car (SM1 license plates being the most obvious telltale)--I did not recognize the time and place shown in the photos. Larry remembered. He told me he had snapped the photos in the paddock at Riverside Raceway. That unlocked the memory. I'd driven alone to see a Can Am race and spent most of my time wandering about the garages rubbing elbows with (Sir) Stirling Moss, Brock Yates, Bill Hickman and, of course, the drivers who were racing that day. I remember standing near the end of the back straight watching Dennis Hulme in his amazing McLaren M8D flying towards the braking point for Turn 9.

I wouldn't have imagined that, while I was walking about like a kid in a candy store taking in as many of the sights and sounds of an important race as I could, someone I'd meet a lifetime later would happen upon my car and take the time to photograph it thereby providing me a memory that would have been lost forever had he not done so. I didn't have a camera that day but I am very glad that Larry did. I told him that I really enjoy the fact that the photos show my GTO parked casually between a Ferrari 275 GTB and a 289 Shelby Cobra. Weren't those the days!

 

"weren't those the days" indeed. Pure magic Stephen, just pure magic. I'm glad your stories are so full of life, they're sheer entertainment. Thanks again.

EDIT - those are really cool shots of your car too. Nostalgic to see it out like that, sadly something that is rarely seen anymore. I've got shots from the Silverstone paddock that echo those of your car. Great memories.