Rear View Mirror
Backward glances at racing history By Don Capps, U.S.A.
Atlas F1 Columnist
An Incomplete History and Record of American Racing, with Occasional Diversions by Our Scribe
When We Last Left The Lone Ranger…
There is a need to return to Sebring to discuss a few matters which got lost in the shuffle of the Big Race Result and allowed us to divert our attention from the issue at hand. Lined up at the head of the field for the 1962 Sebring race were seven Chevrolet Corvettes. The first two, carrying race numbers '1' and '2' incidentally, were those entered by Grady Davis for the Don Yenko/ Ed Lowther and Duncan Black/ M.R.J. Wylie duos. These were pretty much 'state of the art' cars with about every hot item that could legally be placed on them, including the new-for-1962 327-cubic inch engine.
The 327 kept the Rochester fuel-injection system, which was now in its sixth model year on the Corvette, sported new hydraulic lifters, and was mated to a much needed new four-speed gearbox. Although the Davis entries were not 'factory' cars, they were still 'very special' cars. However, the Corvette was still hobbled by its rather uninspired suspension, which featured leaf springs at the rear and despite the rear radius rod still hopped like a bunny in heat whenever pushed hard - even in its race setup. Despite some excellent preparation, the cars ended up 18th and 19th in the standings when the race ended, the Black/Wylie pairing being the first Corvette home and finishing first in the GT 14/15 Class two laps ahead of teammates Yenko/Lowther.
The other Corvettes entered were: No. 3, the Red Vogt entry for Don Hulette and Burk Wiedner, which retired with engine problems; the No. 4 entry by Johnson Chevrolet of Dallas for Delmo Johnson and David Morgan, finishing 21st; the No. 5 of Pat Piggott and Jerry Grant entered by Don Campbell which retired with fuel problems; the No. 6 of Rodger Ward and Bob Johnson entered by Ronnie Kaplan, a victim of suspension failure early in the proceedings; and, the No. 7 Fuller Murray Race Cars entry for Harry Washburn and Bill Fuller which managed to stagger home in 31st many laps arrear even the Davis Corvettes to say nothing of the winners.
The No. 9 entry was another fascinating story being played out in this race by the Americans. Painted in a red-white-and-blue scheme, this was a Ford Falcon "prototype" driven by Jocko Maggiacomo and Marvin Panch. Since its introduction in late-1959 for the 1960 Model Year, the Falcon was Basic Transportation - with a vengeance. It was austere, affordable, and not that expensive. Along with its sister at Lincoln-Mercury, the Comet, the Falcon sold well, but the game was changing. For 1961, Chevrolet introduced the Corvair Monza 900 which moved the goalposts. The Bowtie Guys put bucket seats and a four-speed manual transmission ("four-on-the-floor") in the Corvair and had a car which sold very well in a market just beginning to make itself heard in increasing numbers - the young and sorta young, those who might otherwise look at and even buy foreign cars.
Ford countered in early 1961 with the Falcon Futura (Comet S-22) which plunked bucket seats in the Falcon, gussied it up a tad, but still retained the Ford six-cylinder introduced in 1954, only poked out to 170-cubic inches from its normal 144-cubic inches. It was an attempt to match the Corvair Monza, which was now known as the "sporty" compact car. In the meantime, to take advantage of new foundry techniques and the urgent need to develop a lightweight V-8 for the Fairlane and Falcon/Comet lines, Ford had commissioned such an engine. Using new techniques which allowed it to cast "thinwall" cast iron blocks, Ford offered the new engine in 221-cubic inch form in the 1962 Models. For 1962, the Futura got a four-speed manual transmission borrowed from English Ford operation as an option to go with the new V-8.
In the meantime, as it began to dawn on the Ford the opportunities which the new V-8 might offer, enter a contractor of Ford who saw plenty of promise in the engine: Holman & Moody (H&M) of Charlotte. Although Bill Stroppe had wedged a 312-cubic inch Y-block engine (bored out to 320-cubic inches) into a Falcon, it was not meant for competition, but rather as a demonstration vehicle and ended up with William Clay Ford as his personal car.
H&M looked at the Falcon and created what it called the Challenger. It also figured that it knew exactly where it wanted to race the Challenger: Sebring. The CSI (Commission Sportive Internationale) had allowed a "prototype" class to be created so that manufacturers could race, at least in theory, prototypes for new Grand Touring or Sports Cars. The CSI put a displacement limit of four-litres on the category so as to head off any ideas that Some People might be thinking about.
The engine folks at H&M got their hands on the new Ford V-8 and bored it out to 243.968-cubic inches (3,990 cc), just under the displacement limit. They put a four-barrel carburetor on the V-8, raised the compression to 10.5:1, put in a very hot cam, tweaked the valves, and beefed up the ignition. They mated the engine to a Borg-Warner T-10 four-speed transmission and beefed up the drivetrain and suspension. Then they reinforced everything they could think of for the Challenger, which was then painted from the bottom up in the colors red, white, and blue.
The Challenger ended up second in the prototype class - but only 34th of the 35 cars running at the end of the 12-hour grind. When it was running, the Challenger was pretty fast, but lost considerable time in the pits when the heads had to be replaced. Coupled with a few other problems, Maggiacomo and Panch completed 107 laps, 99 laps behind the victors in their Ferrari TR61. Although there were plans to pursue the Challenger concept into a street model, other projects had priority and Ford and H&M devoted their attention to those instead.
Our Story Continues…with This Interruption....
If 1961 had been the year when the rear-engine revolution finally triumphed in Grand Prix racing, then 1962 was the last year of the rear guard actions defending the ideal of the front-engined sports racing car. The change had come much more slowly to sports car scene. Except for Porsche, almost all the major players on the international scene still used the traditional approach of the engine in the front with the drive going to the rear wheels. There were exceptions of course, the Cooper Monaco and the Lotus 19 (or "Monte Carlo" to some) being at the top of the list. However, these were not designed for the grand endurance events - Sebring, the Nurburgring, the Targa Florio, and Le Mans, but for the shorter races on the airport circuits of Britain - or America.
By 1962, the Cooper Monaco and the Lotus 19 were making their presence felt in America, Big Time. They were to be the catalysts for another revolution in racing, but we are getting ahead of our story. What sorts of sports racing cars did someone expect to see on the grid of a typical race for the C and D Modified classes in 1962? To answer that, we need to roll the meter of the Way-Back Machine to a few years earlier.
There were a few sports racers which really had an immediate impact on American racing almost from the git-go. Among these were the white cars which Briggs Cunningham produced in the early to mid-1950's. Not only did they sweep almost everything before them in the States, but they were true contenders for victory at Le Mans. As if proof were needed, the Cunninghams proved that Americans could produce fast, well-engineered sports racers. Then Cunningham folded shop and parked all the cars and resumed racing those sports racers which arrived in America from foreign shores.
Up until the late 1950's, there had been some really interesting - and even effective and successful - road racing specials produced in America. Or, with America in mind in some cases. The American inclination to tinker and create found its zenith in the automobile. This trait was truly reflected in the new breed of American automotive tinkers now called "hot-rodders," as well as the mechanics who serviced the cars which ran on the American oval tracks and elsewhere. Once it was realized that an American engine could be wedged into the engine compartment of an MG TC or the engine from one car swapped for another to make a better combination for racing, that was sufficient for the fertile imaginations of many to begin pondering the possibilities.
Until about 1958, however, if you wanted to be successful in the top tiers of the road racing game in America, you still had to depend upon the hot cars imported from abroad - the Jaguar C Types and then the D Types as well as a seemingly endless procession of Ferrari and Maserati types - ah, make that tipos of course. With the exception of perhaps the Allards equipped with various American engines (usually Mercury or Cadillac V-8's making them "Anglo-American" cars in a very real sense) or the aforementioned Cunninghams, to win you needed a foreign-made mount.
Many Americans shared the dream that Briggs Cunningham had possessed - to not only win Le Mans, but to do so with an American car. Although perhaps a bit jingoistic in many ways, this notion of winning against the foreign competition was a theme which would resound within American racing for many years. One of those dreams almost came true.
In 1956 and 1957, the World Sports Car championship was not hindered by maximum displacement limits. This saw some of the cars participating using engines which were slowly increasing in size and power. For the 1957 season, Maserati placed its bet on a 4.5-litre V-8. Ferrari also pushed the size of its V-12's upward in an attempt to match that of the Maserati. In the meantime, America was an observer and not a player, despite the first ever round of the championship falling to an All-American combination in 1953 at Sebring: John Fitch and Phil Walters winning in a Cunningham.
While many dreamed of doing something about it, one young man made a commitment to actually do something about the situation. In 1957, this young man decided to build an American car to compete in the international arena and win. With the assets actually available to do this, young Lance Reventlow set out to turn his obsession with road racing into a winning proposition. The son of Barbara Hutton, heir to the Woolworth fortune, and Count Kurt von Haugwitz-Reventlow, Lance Reventlow had dabbled in many sports, but motor racing had consumed him. When he turned 21 in early 1957, he quickly availed himself of the opportunity to go racing in Europe. Although not a gifted driver, he did possess talent and generally could be depended upon to do nothing stupid or too risky.
In the latter part of 1957, Reventlow decided to build his own car to compete against the European marques and hopefully wrestle the championship away from them. His year spent racing in Europe (as well as that in the United States) had given him a good idea of what it would probably take to be successful. Along with team manager Warren Olson, Reventlow set down the design parameters, the foremost of which was the use of an American engine. In 1957, this would be an easier task than that which had been for Briggs Cunningham in 1952 or 1953.
Until the Spring and Summer of 1955, the backbone of the hot-rod world was the Ford Flathead V-8. The abundance of speed parts for this great engine meant that more than a few of those building road racing specials used the Flathead Ford in their creations. The only real alternatives were the Cadillac V-8 - which was bigger and heavier, or the Chrysler Hemi V-8 - which shared the same problems as the Cadillac engine, size and weight. Both engines had a displacement of 331-cubic inches, with the Chrysler tipping the scales at about 750 pounds and the Cadillac at 710 pounds ready for installation into a car.
In a roundabout way, Chevrolet stumbled into the world of speed and performance. Prior to the 1955 model year, there was little to recommend in the way of a performance car in the Chevrolet line. Although named after a racer, Louis Chevrolet, the division was known for its solid, affordable, day-in and day-out abilities as a family car. There were precious few Chevrolets in the world of the hot-rodders, the "Blue Flame 6" being something no self-respecting hot-rodder would touch unless it was under the hood of his grandmother's car. In 1954, Ford introduced its successor to the long-lived Flathead by producing the V-8 with overhead valves, something which many had achieved by buying kits off the shelf or by mail order. The "Y-Block" engines were an advance over the Flathead, but it was a rather big engine and arrived at just the wrong time.
When General Motors decided that the Chevrolet line needed a V-8 added to the options available, most expected it to be simply workmanlike and drab, just like the cars. The engineers who designed and then produced the new Chevrolet engine, showed some imagination with the new engine, the "Turbo-Fire V-8" in the sales brochures. Given the task of making the engine light and durable, they simply gave it a shorter stroke than bore - which was quite unusual at this time - and in addition to overhead valves, devised a clever, lightweight valve system and a strong crankshaft with generous bearings.
While the engineers delivered exactly what was ordered - a good, solid sedan engine, they also created a racer's dream. The engine could rev to 8,000 rpm and even higher, whereas at anything above 6,000 rpm the Cadillac or Chrysler Hemi or new Ford Y-Block would make terrible noises and destroy themselves - although the new Ford could stand a few revs than the Caddie or the Hemi. Ready to install, the new engine tipped the scales at only 535 pounds and its 265-cubic inches produced an easy 180 bhp with a single four-barrel carburetor. With a minimum of effort the output easily jumped above 200 bhp and with no increase in weight.
When the new engine was installed not only in the Chevrolet sedans, but soon would find its way into the Corvette, there was not the sudden rush to Chevrolet by the performance set as one would imagine when this engineering marvel suddenly dropped into their midst. The loyalty to Ford and the massive stock of speed parts for the Ford, Mercury, and Lincoln models plus those for the Chrysler products, as well as the after-market of parts which had grown up to support the speedster of the General Motors camp, Oldsmobile.
Although the transition was slow to begin, once the potential of the new Chevy V-8 was realized, the stampede was on to switch to the "Bowtie" ranks. Soon there were new camshafts appearing which allowed ever more revs, and which was accompanied by more and more special performance parts from both the factory and the after-market suppliers. Soon the Chevrolet became the Chevy: instead of not wanting to be caught dead at the local drive-in in your folks' Chevy, you now stood a good chance of winning more than your share of events in the Stop Light Grands Prix. In almost the blinking of an eye, Chevrolet was transformed into a company Louis would have been proud of bearing his name.
As far as can be determined, it is likely that the first use of the new Chevrolet in a road racing special was the installation of one of the new engines into an HWM. The HWM used an Alta engine which was a typical four-cylinder (British) design of the day: tall, heavy, and not that powerful. But, the car certainly looked neat and had independent front and rear suspension at a time when it was unusual, but not unknown. The HWM in question had been used in the 1955 movie, The Racers. Former Allard J2 driver Tom Carstens fell in love with the car and made an effort to find the car, which apparently had been crashed during the making of the movie. Once Carstens found that not only was the car not crashed during the movie, but available for sale, he snapped it up - along with two each of the Ferraris and Maseratis used in the movie. Buying the lot and then quickly selling off the other four cars, Carstens then turned his attention to the HWM. Using his experience gained from his Allard days, Carstens realized that the engine bay of the HWM could accommodate something with a bit more punch than the Alta four-banger.
This led him to seriously consider the new Chevrolet V-8. The more he considered the engine swap, the better it looked. In a pairing of great convenience to both, Carstens teamed up with Vic Edelbrock who agreed to develop the engine for use in the HWM. Among the first things that Edelbrock did was increase the bore to bring the engine up to a displacement of 300-cubic inches which put just under the limit for the existing "C/Modified" class. The compression ratio was raised, Edelbrock ground new cams and valve gear, designed a new intake manifold, and used three two-barrel carburetors. In addition, the engine was polished, balanced, and tuned in every way imaginable. There is little doubt that its output far exceeded that claimed for the stock engine
The engine was mated to a Jaguar transmission, since at the time a suitable transmission was not available from Chevrolet as of yet, the stock three-speed being hopelessly inadequate. Using some of the experience gained from the Sprint Car ranks, Carstens also installed a Halibrand quick-change differential. Given the added performance of the HWM, Halibrand disc brakes were also installed. In the cockpit Carstens placed Bill Pollock, a driver possessed of great verve and skill and the right man for the job - or simply "possessed" in the estimates of some of his fellow competitors. Although the HWM - Chevrolet did not set the sports car world on its ear, that the combination worked gave some the idea that perhaps it was a concept with real potential.
So, when Lance Reventlow and Warren Olson considered their engine options, the Chevy V-8 was right there at the top of the list. By the Fall of 1957, the knowledge of those building and tuning engines had increased significantly, the factory's participation in stock car racing reaping much valuable information which was passed along to the major tuners. Unfortunately, the CSI chose this moment to place a displacement limit on the sports car championship of 3-litres (183-cubic inches). At 283-cubic inches (4.6-litres), the Chevy was obviously way too big for the World Championship events.
Reventlow then purchased a 220-cubic inch version of the Offenhauser from Meyer - Drake Engineering. It was then sent to Traco to first of all scale it down to 183-cubic inches, three-litres. Second, it was to be converted to run on gasoline rather than its usual diet of alcohol. That Briggs Cunningham had galloped up this box canyon just a few years earlier was just one reason that some rolled their eyes at this approach. Given their expertise with the Offy, it was thought that if anyone could get the Offy so that it would perform as a sports car engine, it was Travers and Coon. Unfortunately, this was too great a task for even the best in the business. Therefore the idea of competing at Le Mans and elsewhere was abandoned and Reventlow set his eyes on America.
The engine program for the Bowtie engine was finding that the Turbo-Fire was great to work with and had plenty of room for development - as well as extra cubic inches, the Reventlow shop pushing the 283 out to 301, 327, and then 339.3-cubic inches.
Reventlow Automotive built a very attractive prototype Scarab and finished it in January 1958. Known as the Mark I, the car was sold was kept by RAI until December that year, after the Nassau Speedweeks. Using the lessons learned from the Mark I, two more cars where produced, the Mark II version of the Scarab. Like the Mark I, they also sold - for $17,500 each - after Nassau. The Scarab cars had been quite successful in the hands of Chuck Daigh and Lance Reventlow and so eager buyers were not hard to find. The cars were being sold since RAI had now decided to enter Grand Prix racing with car of their own construction.
The Scarab convinced many that the way to now go was to cram a Chevy or other American V-8 into the front of a chassis and have it at. Naturally, it was not quite that easy and there was still a large following of the school which advocated that foreign cars were still the way to go - or at least the fitting of a foreign engine into an available chassis seemed to be more promising than going the big-banger route.
Of those who got in line with Scarab were: Bill Devin who produced the Devin SS - which stood fro "Super Shillelagh" and not "Super Sports" as many thought then and still think today; Bill Sadler and his Sadler Mark 3 - Chevrolet (327-cubic inches) which never sparkled despite seeming to be the ticket needed to win in the late-1950's; Bob Carnes and his Bocar XP-5 in which the 283 Chevy was set back in the chassis to such an extent that the weight ratio was 44/56 front to rear, which was quite unusual for the time, and especially with a Chevy crammed into the frame.
Of the others, the "Ol' Yaller" series is perhaps the most notable. It is difficult for some to realize that this series of cars were really entered in top of the line sports car races of today - they seemed more like what a high-schooler might piece together with parts from the junkyard. Originally from West Virginia and transplanted to California through service in the Army Air Force during World II, Max Balchowsky was true character and his approach to racing demonstrated that.
Ol Yaller I was indeed - if Balchowsky is to be believed - largely constructed of parts salvaged from the junkyards of Southern California. Starting his racing career in a Jaguar XK-120, Balchowsky decided he needed something with a bit more power, therefore, he took a 1932 Ford Roadster, plunked down a big Cadillac V-8 in it, painted it a lurid shade of yellow, and went racing.
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