Goodwood 76th Members Meeting PICS!

Sorry, I meant to get more done yesterday but got dragged into entertaining the kids. Which ended in a massive Ferris wheel thing and some poo might have come out because I don't like leaving the ground even in my dreams, let alone real life.

*ahem* anyway

Random SS100 in a not-very cosy trailer


SS100 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Sportscars of the late 50s early 60s always seem to have such lovely shapes, all curves and radii and niceness. Never seems right something so pretty can be so devastatingly fast. This makes a change from the more "common" Lister Jags


Alton-Jaguar by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

in case anyone ever wondered why Maserati's Tipo 61 was nicknamed the "Birdcage"...


Maserati Tipo61 Birdcage#18 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

...a quick look behind the dash into the structure of the car should suffice to explain


Maserati Tipo61 dsh by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Only at Goodwood can you see a priceless Birdcage with a sodden manky blanket trailing in the mire. Something like this at the Excel or NEC classics shows would have a flunky finegling it all over with carnauba and microfibres. And probably be a replica anyway


Maserati Tipo61 Birdcage#61 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Probably the only sportscar I get more emotional with than Birdcages really needs no introduction


D-Types by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


D-Type longnose #6 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


D-Type longnose #7 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Funny how the relatively large and more "road-y" sporsters you could imagine driving down to Le Sarthe in only overalls and a flying helmet, then competing in the 24hrs before pottering home from the front half of the decade had given way to tiny and very much not the sort of thing you'd want to drive to Cornwall in by the end. Whose fault was that then? Yep, Chapman adding lightness as always


Lotus-climax 15 scars by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Delights of the hangar paddock explored a little, my hands were now freezing (fingerless gloves so I could work the camera, y'see? I suffer for me art, tha knas) so I sought the companionship and slightly less cold temperatures back in the shed Market. Mrs L7 had got me in a coffee at least, so I nursed that and thawed out while she introduced her new friend. She makes friends wherever she goes simply by relentlessly talking at people until they give in and talk back. This fella was another wonderful example of "Goodwood person" in as much as he was here on his honeymoon. Where's your wife? She's stayed in the hotel, she got too cold yesterday. Wow. She's definitely a keeper! I asked about his accent, he clearly wasn't local. Nope, they've come over from Philadelphia. That's in Pennsylvania, then. Specially arranged the honeymoon to come and meet relatives in Scotlandland, but more importantly to take in the Member's Meeting which has always been on his bucketlist. Surely it's colder in Philly? Yeah, they had six inches of snow last night alone . I love meeting excellent loons like this

On we went then, suitably warmed up. I'm sure this is the same 1275GT Mini that was on sale for £35k at the Excel a couple of years ago. If so, I'm glad it's not being closeted away, even though you can understand why someone might want to after all that money. Yes, that did read £35 grand. Still upsetting two years later


Mini 1275GT by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

We made it to the main paddock. You could tell we were getting close tothe right place for the Group 5 mad beasts because if you wanted, you could have a road version instead


Porsche 935 burgundy by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

But you don't want one of those. You want one of these


Porsche 935 K3 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

if for no other reason than you would never need another lawnmower. Just drive it across the lawn, turbos burn all the grass off. Done. Sit back and enjoy barbeque


Porsche 935 77a d by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Considering of all the established pure sports marques Porsche probably have consistently make the most accessible and civilised cars you could drive every day, it's always nice to be forcibly reminded of just how downright insane their true competition machinery is


Porsche 935 77a by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Porsche 935 whaletails by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Porsche 935 K3 Toys by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Porsche 935 K3 Le Mans by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

But let's face it. they don't need the blank canvas of Group 5 935s to make bonkers stuff out of. Even the humble VW-van-engined 924 can become a thing in the right hands

Porsche 924 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Porsche 924 bay by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Of course, Porsche were not the only psychos to find Group 5 a jolly good wheeze. It would have been unseemly for Ferrari not to bend the rules too (and then protest everyone else doing it if they didn't win... Mr Clerk sir, that car's got a non-legal doorhandle/windscreen wiper/headlight bulb...) and they did it by taking a relatively sane and fairly pretty Berlinetta Boxer and turning it into the thug-face serial killer that was the 512BB LM.


Ferrari 512 BB LM #48 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

of which there were several. Not a face you could love, but undeniably efficient


Ferrari 512 BB LM #46 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Ferrari 512 BB LM #47 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Probably my favourite of all was the March engineered BMW M1. Such a mad car anyway, not least because who would think that asking Lamborghini to body your sportser for you when they're teetering on the edge of bankrupty yet again and you're... well, you're BMW... and then wonder why even the rules governing the sport had changed by the time the damn things were built. So you've got all these psycho killer racing cars that are obsolete before they turn a wheel. Why not turn them into... well, anything that you can possibly fudge through any set of regs going?


BMW March M1 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


BMW March M1 d by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Interspersed witt the Group 5 cars were relics from an equally out-evolved but no less marvellous series... and you have to wonder how much of its demise was down the the rival F1 having better lawyers and TV-rights shmoozers. Because Formula 5000 was a properly hairy fox-pictured alternative that in some theatres and at some times outstripped F1s popularity. Prototype chassis thrust along by old-skool barn-door engineered big Vees... what's not to like? And if you ever feel like moaning about what a long way it is to go to your favourite show or race event again, spare a thought for the guys who brought the Beggs to Sussex. From the southernmost end of New Zealand!


Begg-Chevrolet FM5 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Chevron-Chevrolet B37 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Of course, any race series with innovative chassis and preferably excessive power back in those days had to involve a certain orange hue. F5000 was no exception


McLaren-Chevrolet M10B by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


McLaren-Chevrolet M10B bdg by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Tune in next time for four-litre bedsteads and two-ton racing cars

Great pics, thanks. Love the Cobra being used properly.

A real automotive droolfest!

As an aside, you can buy those antique effect lightbulbs you've pictured in Poundland these days, ('squirrel cage' & similar).

Hard to imagine nowadays, given that every French car produced since the second world war has been utter rubbish (Alpines and mental Citroens excepted) but there was a time when French cars ruled the world. In fact (whisper it), the French not only invented motor racing but totally dominated it until the Italians and Germans stopped messing about and hit their stride. But even then, exploiting the occasional rules change, Italian bankruptcy and German flounce, the French still managed to sneak in and whup the fox-picture off everyone else. Weird innit.

Maybe not, when you see fantastic behemoths like the V12 Delage.


Delage V12 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Delage V12 dash by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Delage V12 f by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

In fact, now largely forgotten, Delage were a mainstay of GP racing through several formulas, and at one point utterly dominated the embryonic 1.5 litre rules with their swiss-watch supercharged straight eight. Sadly, like so many of the first-half twentieth century marques, it didn't survive the demise of its founder and guiding light, nor the War, being eventually subsumed into the Delahaye marque (who wanted the race pedigree but ended up turning Delages into overblown tinsel for Liberace types). But on and off, they were awesome. And still are! And so, to be fair is the average Delahaye


Delahayes by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


French Racing Blue by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Whatever else you can accuse them of, Delahaye always managed to scuplt great shapes... although it seems slightly unfair that contemporary Ettore Bugatti should single out Bentley for criticism as "the fastest lorries on Earth". You would not, under any circumstances, want a Delahaye 135 running over your foot


Delahaye rumps by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Delahaye 135S by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Delahaye 135 bdg by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

In contrast, Talbot were kinda the French equivalent of the British car industry... conglomerate-muddled, complicated gestation and perennial bankruptcy. Born out of the same franchises way back int he days of atmospheric valve opening as the British Talbot branch, then subsumed into the tottering Sunbeam-Talbot-Darracq construct (featuring the unfortunate initials STD wayyyyy before that was what it meant now), it's amazing they managed to achieve anything more complex than a soap-box racer, but somehow they plodded on until becoming the property of Tony Lago and gaining if not more secure financial footing then at least rather more coherent direction. Somehow along the way they managed to pioneer independent front suspension and all sorts of similar wizardry. Although they were never exactly what you'd call pretty, especially when parked up next to a Delahaye


Talbot-Lago Darracq T150C by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Talbot-Lago Darracq T150C bdg by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Oh well. Arguably France's most enduring and famous competition marque, the Bugatti we mentioned earlier was the archetype of the early racing car that a gentleman eventer could drive across Europe, take off the mudguards and win a race before heading home full of champers and with a panda face from his goggles. They were also very pretty, as Ettore was descended from a family or artisans and artists. In fact, the signature grille so often erroneously called a "horseshoe" grille on Bugatti cars was in fact inspired by the shape of a chair-back created by his father. So now you know, get it right next time


Bugatti Type 35C by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Bugatti Type 43 d by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Whilst the Type 35 above proved one of the longest-lived racing cars ever made, adding superchargers and capacity could only stave off obsolescence for so long. Sadly, adding gurt big engines into an out-dated chassis was never going to provide a solution, and the later Type 51s


Bugatti Type 51 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

...and, worse, Type 54s, quickly gained a reputation for evil handling and too much power for the frame... whilst still being not enough power to keep up with the competition. Bugatti was in many ways the instrument of his own downfall; he was unwilling to move forward if it meant taking risks, and determined never to repeat the same mistake twice... seemingly not being cognizant that this is how racing cars evolve. A prime example being his dalliance with hydraulic brakes, inspired by trials amongst competitors at the Indianapolis 500. These primeval hydraulics used fluid so caustic they annihilated the seals in the long Indy race, leaked and failed and he basically swore to never use them again despite the writing being on the wall. In fact, he was so disgusted by the leaky hydraulics that racing Bugattis continued not only with drums but also with cable operation long after all other marques had swapped to hydraulics.


Bugatti Type 51 dsh by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

At least they retained a level of gorgeous attention-to-detail totally unwarranted on what was essentially a tool...though at least a scalpel. And if that's true then the Bentleys were a hammer. Maybe even a clubhammer. You can see where someone like Ettore, so wrapped up in the ideal that things should look good as well as performing well, would be upset by being beaten by the thuggish blunt instrument of those "fastest lorries". He kinda had a point....


Bentley 3-4narf by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Bentley, of course, were another marque stripped of direction by the departure of the founder and guiding willpower. As long as W.O. held the reigns, the answer to a lack of speed was "add displacement". He famously disliked the newfangled fad for supercharging, and was arguably proved right by the failure of the Blower Bentleys to repeat the success of their naturally aspirated older sisters at le Mans. But one has to admit, they certainly look right. Even with a cardboard air filter to protect the supercharger from the snow and salt


Blower Bentley by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


Blower Bentley d by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Interestingly enough though, there was one factory prototype for the blower Bentleys that was built under the great W.O. And, being Goodwood, of course it was here. The owner was a great "Goodwood guy", more than happy to chat about his number-one-of-one vehicle.


Bentley 3narf blower by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Funnily enough, we spent rather longer talking about Beetles and rotary engines than we did about this rarest of things, a factory Blower three and a half, but that's Goodwood for you. Lovely to meet people with priceless irreplaceable museum pieces like this but who spend more time asking about the punter and chatting about rubbish than blowing their own trumpet


Bentley 3narf blower int by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

Of course, "factory" racers weren't really then what they are now, and any Tarquin with enough sovereigns in their pocket could just buy one, strip off all the tat and call it a racer. And Bentleys weren't immune to this. Many ended up as specials and dilettante competition machines. Several were here today, mostly competing against the psychotic cyclecars in the Bolster Cup for lunatics


Bentley 3-8 special by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

So if the French did pretty-and-fast and the British did thuggish-and-fast, the Germans just did fast. They don't seem to be able to help themselves, but racing has been a litany of Germans turn up... Germans get the hang of stuff...Germans win the living hell out of everything going...Germans fall prey to external circumstance and fall back to give everyone else a chance. The supercharged SSKs were a good example of this; engineering masterpieces on wheels that they had the poor form to make unbelievably good looking to boot, almost as if to rub everyone's noses in it


Mercedes-Benz 710SSK by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

The dash and finish and instrumentation alone would make any artisan proud in pretty much any context. Just so happens they're screwed to a warp-speed capable behemoth


Mercedes-Benz 710SSK dsh by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

The blower was engaged when the pilot felt confident enough he had it all gathered up together and pointing in a straight line enough to hit full throttle. When the pedal hit the mat, the supercharger engaged and the eerie scream of the vanes whirling around mashing air into the huge engine is guaranteed to set the hairs standing up on the back of your neck


Mercedes-Benz 710SSK d by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

It wasn't just GP cars that ze Germans excelled at. We've already seen the way that they could turn a merchant banker's car of choice into the lethal weapon of the 935Ks but fifty years earlier they produced a car which looked as if Noddy should drive it and yet re-wrote the rules of sportscar racing


BMW 328s by Nick Liassides, on Flickr

The pre-war 328 family was so good and so far ahead of its time that it pure and simply won everything. Everything. Everyone else had to either pack up and go home, or accept they were fighting for second place. They were so good that Frazer-Nash (erstwhile importer previously), Bristol and several other marques pounced on the technology as war reparation and continued trouncing allcomers with their purloined German engineering once the dust had settled, winning everything from circuit races to the gruelling slog of the Targa Florio and the Mille Miglia.


BMW Frazer-Nash 328 by Nick Liassides, on Flickr


BMW Frazer-Nash 328 r by Nick Liassides, on Flickr