1960s Racing Cars Archives - CARS // MOTORBIKES

Lotus 25

The Lotus 25 was all about innovation. It was designed by Colin Chapman – charismatic top man at Lotus. In a quest to lower the nose of the car – in the interests of aerodynamics – Chapman envisioned a one-piece chassis. The previous car – the Lotus 24 – had been built around space-frame steel tubing. That was the standard, in ’61. The ’25’, though, allowed its aluminium shell to act as the frame. Not only was the ‘monocoque’ lower and narrower – it was stronger and lighter, too. Frame flex was substantially reduced. That also let the suspension function to better effect.

Chapman boxed clever! The ’62 season started with the old Lotus 24 on the grid – complete with its space-frame chassis. Early, non-championship races were a perfect opportunity to pull the wool over rival teams’ eyes. Come the Dutch GP, though – and the Lotus 25 was revealed! With master craftsman Jim Clark at the wheel, the new Lotus quickly established itself as the class of the field. It would have won the World Championship at the first time of asking – were it not for last-round reliability issues. The following season, though, saw no such slip-up. A record-breaking seven-win haul saw Lotus take its first world crown. They would repeat the feat, in ’65 – with the wider-wheeled ’33’. That was a great year for the Norfolk-based team … Lotus also won the Indy 500!

The synergy, then, between the 25 and Clark was an automotive marriage from heaven. They lit up the GP 1.5-litre era. Colin Chapman – the arch-innovator – had done it again. Chassis and frame technology had morphed into the modern era. F1 cornering would never be the same again!

ATS Tipo 100

Few F1 cars can top the ATS Tipo 100 for eyebrow-raising intrigue. In ’61, Ferrari’s race division was riding high. As F1’s new 1.5-litre era dawned, prospects for the Italian marque looked rosy. The fire-engine red, shark-nosed Ferraris ruled the F1 roost. Enzo Ferrari – founder of the firm – was, doubtless, very happy. Not so, some of his employees. At the end of the ’61 season, Enzo fell out with his top engineers. The outcome was that they picked up their spanners and left.

Ring-leader of the Ferrari rebels was Carlo Chiti. Rotund of build – and temperamental by nature – he was widely considered a design genius. He was also thought of as a thoroughly nice chap. Chiti led his troop of dissident technicians to Sasso Marconi – near Bologna. In no time, he had set up his own factory/foundry. He had financial clout – courtesy of a trio of industrialists. Chiti was a man on a motor racing mission. Following the mass walk-out from Modena, Ferrari found they had a rival. Namely, ATS – or, Automobili Turismo Sport. There was now a new team on the Bologna block. And Carlo Chiti was the man in charge.

The V8-powered ATS Tipo 100 debuted at the ’63 Belgian GP. It created quite a stir at Spa Francorchamps. In a piece of PR many a more modern team would be proud of, the ATS transporter was parked away from the paddock. F1 aficionados could talk of nothing else. When the Tipo 100s were revealed, the buzz was electric. Come the green light, however, the build-up was not backed up on the track. From the mechanics’ perspective, the cars were far from ideal. To wit, their chassis had to be sawn, then re-welded – just to change the engines. Not really what an ex-Ferrari race engineer was used to! Certainly, two high-calibre drivers had been recruited to the ATS cause. Phil Hill was a former world champion. And Giancarlo Bhagetti had won the ’61 French GP. As it turned out, though, even their combined talents could not stop the Tipo 100 under-achieving. Through ’63 – and the following two seasons – results ranged from disappointing to dire. Over time, the ATS project petered out. Its gallant challenge to the force of Ferrari failed. Nonetheless, Chiti – and his renegade team – displayed courage and integrity. In the end, though, the small-scale ATS team – and the Tipo 100 – simply ran out of steam!

Honda RA302

Honda’s RA302 car was a while in the making. The Japanese giant arrived in F1 in ’64. It brought with it a transversely-mounted V12 motor. A complex masterpiece of engineering, it was the talk of the GP world. It took Honda nearly two seasons to make it to the top step of the podium. The first win came in Mexico – in the final race of the 1.5-litre era. If Honda thought they had cracked it, they were ahead of themselves. In ’66 and ’67, results were lacklustre. At the time, all F1 engines were heavy. Honda’s exotic V12, though, tipped the scales at 100lb more than its rivals. Not ideal!

Thankfully for Honda, John Surtees was on the driving roster. By the start of the ’68 season, he had helped develop the RA301 car. It was tidier of design than its predecessor. It was also more powerful. Surtees was assured that a lightweight V12 was on its way. At that point, head honcho Soichiro Honda threw a spanner in the works. Well, it was his works, to be fair! Honda-san’s priority was selling N600 saloon cars. Their engines were still air-cooled. Honda’s increasingly successful motorcycles were also on Soichiro’s mind. They, too, were air-cooled. For Mr Honda, bread and butter business trumped motorsport. He instructed the race department to come up with an air-cooled motor – to match the roadsters’ powerplants. The lightweight V12 Surtees had been promised was mothballed.

In due course, Soichiro got his air-cooled F1 car. Parked in Silverstone’s paddock, the Honda RA302 looked a dream. Light and compact, its 120° V8 sat snugly at the back of a monocoque chassis. When the time came to fire it up, Innes Ireland was at the wheel. The erstwhile Lotus legend was now a journalist. Ireland was about to take the RA302 out for its first test-drive. When he returned to the paddock, it was not with good news. Handling-wise, he said, the new car was all over the shop. Surtees’ mood that day was already testy – and Ireland’s report did not improve it. Surtees had not even known the car was coming, until the last minute. Never mind that it was already entered in the upcoming French GP. Surtees declined to have anything further to do with the RA302 – which was clearly way underdeveloped. Honda France duly stepped into the GP breach. Jo Schlesser – looking to move from F2 to F1 – would do the driving at Rouens. Come race day, the French weather was dreadful. Schlesser – and the RA302 – started towards the back of the grid. Surtees, meanwhile – driving the RA301 – was vying for the lead. On only the second lap, Schlesser’s new air-cooled engine let go. The RA302 careened into a bank and caught fire. Tragically, the French ace died in the blaze. Later that year – in the Italian GP, at Monza – Surtees did finally drive the recalcitrant RA302. But, to no avail. At the end of the ’68 season – perhaps chastened by the RA302 experience – Honda withdrew from racing. It did not return until the Eighties!

BRM H16

The BRM H16 was far from F1’s most successful machine. But, it was one of the most unusual. And while points are not awarded to the most interesting cars, without them motorsport would be the poorer. For example, how about producing a V16 – conforming to F1’s new 3.0-litre size limit – by linking two 1.5-litre V8s? That is precisely what Tony Rudd – BRM’s engine designer – opted to do. Not the first idea that might pop into an F1 fan’s head, perhaps – but, it was a logical step. After all, BRM – British Racing Motors – already had said V8s at its disposal. All Rudd had to do was shorten them a tad, place one on top of the other – and marry them up. Unfortunately, Rudd was not in a position to rid the engine of its excess weight.

Rudd was inspired to build the V16 by Napier Dagger’s H24 aero engine. Rudd reckoned it was good for 600bhp, fully developed. Later, he would say he wished he had gone down the 12-cylinder route instead. But at the time, 16 cylinders seemed like the way to go. Gremlins got in from the get-go. Vibrations would be ironed out in one part of the engine … only to re-appear in another! The upshot was that the H16 car did not make it onto the grid until the end of the ’66 season. Reliability was duly improved For ’67. Unfortunately for BRM, it came at the expense of power.

The H16’s P83 chassis did not help. Like the engine it supported, it was heavy. A lighter 115 chassis replaced it – but that, too, was substantially heavier than its rivals. Jackie Stewart was a BRM driver, at the time. He did not exactly gush with praise for the H16. Its performance limits were too easy to find, he said. That made it hard for a driver to shine – even one of his calibre. At least the more challenging tracks – like Spa Francorchamps and the Nürburgring – levelled the F1 playing-field somewhat. The H16 motor did win a GP, though. However, it needed Lotus’ help to do it. In ’66 – while awaiting delivery of the Ford DFV motor – Colin Chapman hired the H16 engine to power the Lotus Type 43. Ironic, really, given Chapman’s obsession with weight-saving. Heavy as the H16 was, Jim Clark eased the Type 43 to victory – at Watkins Glen, USA. And in ’67 – for all his dislike of the H16 car – Jackie Stewart placed it second at Spa. And that was pretty much it, in terms of results. A real racing oddity, the BRM H16 made for great spectating. That said – as Stewart had pointed out – it was not always as much fun to drive!

Ferrari 250 GTO

The Ferrari 250 GTO was about as focused a car as has ever been built. Designed by Giotto Bizzarrini, everything about it was geared to speed. Its cabin, for instance, was conspicuously spartan. The GTO – Gran Turismo Omologato – was made to win races, not comfort contests! Specifically, races in the World Sportscar Championship. The Ferrari 250 GT had been struggling in said series – mainly on account of poor aerodynamics. Which is where Bizzarrini came in. His brief was to draft a more slippery shape. One that could deliver more than 150mph, at any rate … which was what the GT was currently mustering. Bizzarrini went to work. The grille was made smaller. The headlights were faired in. A foreshortened rear end now sported a spoiler. Ferrari were pleased. The GTO’s top speed was clocked at 173mph.

But, Bizzarrini’s bodywork was just for starters. The GTO had other weapons in its race armoury. Like a 3.0-litre Tipo 168/62 Colombo V12. The 300bhp it produced took the Ferrari from 0-60mph in 6.1s. That called for a stiff chassis. An alloy-tubed frame was duly installed. The aluminium V12 engine was suckled by six twin-barrel Webers. Because it was dry sump, the motor sat lower – as did the rest of the car. More grist to the aerodynamics mill. A 5-speed gearbox turned the rear wheels. Only suspension let the side down a tad – being somewhat outdated. Saying that, it clearly did not hamper the whole package too much. In ’62, the GTO won the World Sportscar Championship. And again, in ’63 and ’64. At Le Mans, in ’62, while it came second in the overall standings, it took the coveted Group 3 GT class.

Bizzarrini also took care that the GTO’s styling was suitably seductive. As well as being one of the all-time great racers, as a roadster its low-down looks were sublime. Ferrari played a bit fast and loose with the facts, however … in true motorsport tradition! They passed the GTO off as just a streamlined GT. That got them off the hook, homologation-wise. Otherwise, they would have had to build 100 GTOs, to go racing. As it was, only 39 were built. In truth, though, the new car was unique. While the GTO – and its GT forebear – did indeed share many components, there was enough that was fresh about the GTO to set it apart. It certainly was a streamlined GT – Bizzarrini’s wind-cheating wizardry had seen to that. But – should there be any doubt that the GTO was special – a price comparison is telling. When Ferrari produced the car – between ’62 and ’64 – it cost £6,000. In 2014 – at Bonhams Quail Lodge auction – one sold for £22,843,633. Which made it the most expensive car ever, at the time. The Ferrari 250 GTO was a one-off, all right!

Ford GT40

The Ford GT40 could have been a Ferrari! In the mid-’60s, Ford were in the throes of a Ferrari takeover. With the deal all but closed, though, their offer was snubbed. That displeased Henry Ford II – to say the least. Hackles suitably raised, he determined to come out fighting … and hit Ferrari where it hurt. At the racetrack! The GT40 would be his weapon of choice. Fortunately, Ford were in a position to recruit race car constructor Lola to their cause. The British firm had just put the finishing touches to their Mk6 GT car. It had been fitted with a Ford V8 engine. Plainly, the prototype was packed with potential. Perfect timing! Ford leapt at the chance to bring Lola on board … and duly acquired the rights to the Mk6. Eric Broadley – Lola’s founder – would oversee the project.

Not that Ford would be taking a back seat. They would be styling the new car, for starters. Trouble was – for all their commercial success – Ford were not race engineers. The shape they came up with was aerodynamic – but not as much as it could have been. Lola could have made it still more slippery. That was their stock-in-trade, after all. Plus, Ford’s plans for the GT40 included roadsters. Which would, of course, need to be factory-built. Thinking ahead – in terms of parts – Ford gave the go-ahead for a steel monocoque chassis for the GT40. It went without saying that it was relatively cheap. The specialised light aluminium tub Broadley had designed was surplus to requirements. So now, not only was the GT40 less aerodynamic than it might have been – it was heavier, too. Ford wanted to have their cake and eat it, too. They wanted a race car to beat Ferrari – while, at the same time, cutting production costs!

The proof of the pudding would come at Le Mans – in the form of the ’65 24-Hour race. Sadly – to Ford’s palate, at least – the pudding did not taste good. Ferrari won! The following year, though – after some winter-time fettling – the GT40 came on song. Indeed, it would win at La Sarthe the next four times out. The ’66 and ’67 campaigns were under Ford’s own aegis. A privateer team took charge in ’68 and ’69. In the course of that string of victories, the GT40 did more than just win. It was the first car to notch up 3,000 miles in 24 hours – with New Zealanders Bruce McLaren and Chris Amon doing the driving. And after that – with Jacky Ickx at the wheel – the GT40 beat a Hans Herrmann-piloted Porsche to the flag, by a mere 100m. After a full day’s high-octane racing, that was a pretty tight margin. To put it in context, the GT40 topped out at more than 200mph. As a sports car, then, it was anything but lacklustre. Its 4,727cc V8 engine made 485bhp. And no car wins four times on the bounce at Le Mans, without having something special going for it. The Ford GT40 was a fantastic racing car. It was just that – had Eric Broadley and his Lola colleagues been given free rein – it could have been even better!