racing roadtrips

[paul lancaster]

Do you have a favourite, or least favourite roadtrip on your way to, or from a weekend of racing.I'm sure there plenty of stories to be told.
Here's one that I remember
I was racing in the pre 65s as a 16 year old, at ruapuna.after Saturdays effort, instead of putting the car on the trailer, I was asked by mark Leonard, if I wanted to follow 4 other race cars up the road and put the cars in another fellow racers chook shed.
That fella was Craig mahon, who raced a humber 80, it was his parents chook farm
There was Craig, mark Leonard in his mk1 cortina, Nigel Barclay in his Anglia, Jon Palmer in his 57 chev, and me in my ha viva
We left ruapuna and headed out onto the public road, for 5 or 6 ks, til we got to the farm.
The looks on some of the public was pretty funny.
I can still remember looking in the rearview mirror, watching the look on my sisters face, as she was kneeling in the back seat, hanging on to the rollcage, screaming, yeeharr as we cruised up the road, she still reminds me of that.
What's your guys memories of your racing roadtrips?

[Grant Sprague]

Glad to be the first one to say something here as your Dad was involved ,there are a few good ones , reaalllyy good . any way since it is you Paul that started it , ask your [other Dad] Jonsie ???????? when him & I went to visit a special stage down south in a heat way rally , was about 2 hrs drive south from Timaru , towards a fast single road special stage , he let me drive his BRAND new 1200 sss , we gate crashed a special stage [crazy] to get a good vantage point as spectators we ended up pretty well up the ladder in that run lol, I wont go into details much more , you ask the other Paul [yr Dad.. Jonsie] & he will confirm the rest of that story , you may print it here if you want ....... , there was also a race to Picton after the last south island escort sports [series] race , from Ruapuna with Ted Jarvis, when we arrived at picton we continued to race in the car parking deck around & around on one of the interisland ferry Ted Jarvis was mad still is , lol & there are some more don't want to steel all the thunder I will drop snippets in though , we all have had those stories , come on guys .

[Les Laidlaw]

yes the Owens Brothers pouring AV gas on the road down one of the gulleys on the Desert Road and waiting for Dave McMillan to arrive and set it alight....!!!!!

[Carlo]

yes the Owens Brothers pouring AV gas on the road down one of the gulleys on the Desert Road and waiting for Dave McMillan to arrive and set it alight....!!!!!

Norm Smith will recall a similar situation between the Waitaki River and the Waimate turn off too, eyes the size of dinner plates or so I have been told.

[Rod Grimwood]

This thread could turn very interesting,
Ted Jarvis just on his own would be interesting, boy he led some of us astray.
Think nicknames and nondeplumes will be order of day.
The rally days have their own special (service stage) stories.
Circuit days also have some goodies, (now there is one, done couple of trips way back with Noel)
Will have to write and then edit before posting.

[Steve Emson]

This is a very touchy subject in today's world of public opinion. All the stories I could tell involve naughty stuff the authorities, do gooders and greenies would demand we are all thrown into the clinker and the keys lost forever.
I was watching some current affairs show here in Brisbane and they were going on about young kids (7yo)being let loose behing the wheel. They even think nobody should be driving until they are about 17 or 18 as young people are incapable of the skills required to control a car.

Many of you on here would know that is rubbish. Many of you could tell stories of driving very young. It is about education. Some bloody idiot power broker doesn't want young drivers taught any car control skills, as he thinks it will promote hooning!

What about all the karting kids, they show fantastic control at very young ages. Dad had me driving in paddocks at a very young age in his cars, notably Simca 1000's. I remember driving a Fiat 500 at 7. ( I won't tell that story- very incriminating)

Of course Dad had me racing in national race meetings at 15. I had my own son doing autocoss in my Escort rally car at 14. He also was racing geminis at Lakeside whist still at school (16) and underage for a drivers licence. He was very quick.

Rant over, back to road trips, I think most of our trips to all the circuits, were adventures. All sorts of stuff happened. The speeds we did all this stuff at seems very stupid today looking back. One time i was very pleased with myself, as Dad and me left together to drive to Manfield in two seperate cars, both Datsun 1600's. We were together most of the way, travelling very quickly, when I made a break for it in a tricky piece of road and managed to get to the end, stop and buy an ice cream and be sitting on the bonnet of my car eating it when Dad arrived. (The look I gave him was, there you go, what do you think of that!)
The down side of this story was that at drivers briefing, mention was made of two Datsuns observed doing things maybe they shouldn't.

I wonder why we were so loose and carefree back then? If you told people today what went on you would be treated as certifiable. Something has changed over the years, don't you think?

Today, I rarely break the speed limit, and if I do it is only 'just' over a little bit. I don't tailgate, and come to think of it hardly pass other cars on the road. Ocassionally someone will do something to me on the road, and my wife will give me 'that' look, meaning don't even try it. Very occassionally she will say 'does he know who he is picking?' That usually settles me down- Ha Ha. ( I have the fortune to have a wife who lived through all my motorsport adventures. She has seen it, lived it and done it all. She really understands motor sport. Pretty neat really, when you never have to tell some story, she was there and knew all the drivers, everyones lap times, and who she considered good, and others she was less complimentary about.)

anyway, what a rave, sorry about that.- Steve

[paul lancaster]

Hi grant, hope all is well, I see that your just as addicted as I am to this site.lol.your right jonesys had motorsport in his blood for a long time, and a bit of cheek in him as well, and I owe my passion to him as that's what I was brought up with, motorsport.
He's had a couple of "racing roadtrip"s himself .there was the time when he spun off the road in what I think was the 1200, or maybe 1100, ended up parked on a treestump.no worries for jonesy, opened up drivers door, banged it in reverse, leant out to see where he was goin, and proceeded, to chop half of his middle finger clean off when it bellied on the stump.
And he all most killed himself one Friday night before a rally, bedding in somebrakes out by the reservoir, took a nasty, tight righthander, sliding a pole , snapping it in half, then barrel rolling down the bank, ending up at the bottom of the gully.he got out and crawled to the neighbours place, with a broken hip.he was in hospital for bout a month.
I can remember him, sitting at the table after tea with mirror, squeezing pieces of glass out of his forehead, this went on for months.
I'll ask him about your "special stage" that you guys had.all good times

[Carlo]

There we were, just after midnight, good old transit van, 32 wheels and tyres on the roof, two drums of fuel plus all the spares and a spare seat all thrown in the back, flat out downhill towards Rotorua with nothing left on the speedo other than the makers name which by then was partially obscoured by blood and a brake pedal that was harder than a schoolboy at his first porn show when appearing around the corner came a set of red and blue flashing lights...................................................................Anyone who has driven a service vehicle on an early Rally of NZ can fill the remainder of their story...

[Rod Grimwood]

Peter Davidson and the Masport guys had a transit V6 and the Mazda Dealer Team guys had a Transit with V8 thanks to Ron Kendall, John Butler and boys both with the big roof racks that Carlo mentioned. We also had a little Escort Van that was Rods work wagon and it had 1600 and rally grip tyres etc with big roof rack as well. Yes there were some interesting 'stages' between servicing in the middle of the night. Remember one Pall Mall round from Rotorua area to Tokoroa area and over to Maramarua and finish in Auckland when the Transits were at their best, especially over the back of Bennydale, me and Doc were cruising (at speed we thought) when a white, blue and orange Transit (driven by a soon to be top rally driver himself) passed us and we thought they are in a hurry, but straight away we were passed by a white with blue stripes Transit (driven by a mechanic, well known speedway and part time rally driver) and we were convinced they were all in a hurry so we thought something must have happened so we tagged on as best we could. Got there and all was ok, it was to see who got the prime service area at end of forest. But one thing was, I can never remember any one doing anything real crazy or dangerous. During day time we also had a cricket set that we would put together and rake a pitch down the road if we had a bit of a wait for service, there were some great 'tests' between the Masport boys and us. Spectators used to walk past and just look at all the antics going on and some even join in.

Good days. The old CF's were not quite the same as the Transit.

[Michael Clark]

What a great thread - Howard Wood is out of town at the moment so won't see this for another few hours - but there is a story about him and his late brother, the Desert Road, and the truck carrying their Cheetah FFs which had me doubled up when I first heard it...

[Michael Clark]

Here is a road trip to my first F1 GP - as it appeared in the April 2013 issue of NZ Classic Car:

1983 was the year I’d set plans in place to follow the Formula 1 circus through Europe plus as many other races I could cram in, and so I’d carefully planned my debut for Paul Ricard. April 17, 1983 would be the day I had looked forward to for so long.

As things turned out, we would fly down to Toulon on the morning of the race. I was feeling queasy even before getting on the plane and, aware of my discomfort levels Sandy offered to drive. Bless her – neither of us had driven a left hand drive before but, notwithstanding how I was feeling, driving on the wrong side of the road to the French Grand Prix was man’s work. After all, we had a Renault 5 and you don’t chuck the keys to one of those babies to just anyone. The directions to Le Castellet seemed straightforward enough - it was a right out from the airport followed by another right down a narrow lane. Somehow the wipers started up when I indicated and changing gear with the stick seemed a lot more effective than the window winder. Along a narrow lane I was told ‘Michael, you’re a bit close to the ditch!’ I was still thinking ‘what ditch?’ as ‘Le Car’ fell into it.

Here we were, on route to my first Grand Prix and I’d rolled the rental car - we were still within sight of the airport. We were completely uninjured but there was no way of knowing how bad the car was. The calmer of the two of us reminded me that we’d just passed a service station. Pumped full of adrenalin I sprinted back in hope of an English speaker and a tow truck. I can still see the face of the blond with the large expressive eyes. ‘Parlez vois Anglais?’ I asked, hopefully. ‘Non’ said the pretty face. Damn, I thought – it was going to have to be the action version. ‘OK, le car…’ and then, holding my hands in front of me, I tipped them to one side and, at the same time moved my torso in the same direction. I have thought since that this is unlikely to have looked particularly cool.

The large expressive eyes took on even more amplified proportions and she headed straight for a phone in a highly excitable state. I imagined her calling paramedics, fire engines, even Inspector Clouseu…

As I stood waiting I heard a ‘toot toot’ out on the forecourt. I looked around and saw the car that I’d put into a ditch not five minutes earlier, the driver waving and motioning me to get a move on. I looked back at the blond who now had her back to me and was speaking quite loudly into the phone and waving her arms about the way an apoplectic person does.

There wasn’t a mark on the car – how’d she do it? The story unfolded – pretty girl leaning against the side of an acutely angled Renault 5 as a rugby team in a bus on their way to a game happens upon her. The bus stops and from it emerge a couple of locks and props. They take a corner each and lift ‘le car’ from ‘le ditch’.

Whereas I would have parked in the first available spot near the circuit, meaning a 20-minute cross-country hike, the now supremely confident driver found a Renault 5 sized park right in front of a main entry. We’d not walked far when our attention was diverted to a noisy band of flag waving Ferrari fans arriving, with full horned accompaniment, in a trio of Fiat 130TC Abarths. Seemingly within seconds of parking, 57 or so people spilled out of the three Fiats, erected a small grandstand out of bits of pipe and were in full song. Maybe the day would actually turn out OK after all – we had real, live tifosi in our midst.

The turbo rivalry between Ferrari and Renault was in full swing and being Italians in France, our new tifosi friends were in playful mood and provided no shortage of pre race entertainment. An elderly man with a poodle wandered into ‘our’ area. He took off a large coat and revealed ‘bike pants’, and special bike racers type shoes. We concluded that he’s probably cycled here. He also wore a ‘Renault’ cap with a tiny peak. He seemed oblivious to the chants from the tifosi while the poodle curled up and went to sleep. One of our new friends leapt from the makeshift ‘grandstand’ and commenced a swerving, mischievous run – seemingly moving at full speed despite moving in a pronounced ‘crouch’ position. His wild eyes darted from side to side before stopping beside the snoozing poodle and, to the laughter and hilarity to all that witnessed it, placed a ‘Ferrari’ sticker to its clipped coat. The elderly cyclist was totally unaware of all of this which only added to this highly charged and excited audience.

It seemed to take forever to get to 2 pm. The parade lap was our first chance to see the full field but Prost’s Renault is soon in control. Our friends cheer wildly as the Ferraris flash by in 5th and 6th but Prost isn’t even making a race of it. Before long there a big gaps everywhere. Man it’s dull - I can’t believe it, I’ve spent most of my life looking forward to this day, I ‘roll’ a car getting here after travelling half way around the world and I’m struggling to stay awake. Even the tifosi are struggling – the Ferraris are well down and the positions remain unchanged for lap after lap

I don’t know how we managed it but seemingly within minutes of the whole turgid affair being brought to an end, we found ourselves in the pits by helping to push a Toleman.

We see most of the drivers, team owners and other ‘celebrities’ – it’s capped a weird day off nicely. It wasn’t what I expected my first Grand Prix to be but the trip there, the tifosi before the race, and getting into the paddock afterwards made it a day we’ll never forget. Just a shame about the 95 odd minutes after 2pm…

[paul lancaster]

To rod and Michael, what pair of fantastic "roadtrip"stories you have told, keep them coming, I always like Hearing how it was, way back when.
The good old days eh.

[Carlo]

Transits:
First you need to remember that the V4 Transit only had a 7.5 gallon (33- 34 litre) fuel tank capacity as standard fitment and you were damn lucky to get 180 - 190km out of a tankfull of fuel.

We were assisting the late Lyn Johnson with one of his Formula Fords and Lyn called and picked us up from the workshop at lunchtime on the Friday with his new to him 2 litre Transit and trailer and we were off to catch the 6.40pm Ferry which would be waiting for us about 540km away in Picton. We had not gone far before the noise of all the 20 litre tins in the back of the van rattling against each other was annoying the living daylights out of us so a bit of repacking and through to the ferry with a van full of petrol fumes from the leaks from the screw tops and Lyn enjoying numerous smokes on the way. At the ferry the fuel cans were emptied into the van and the one full can now made its way into the seat of the race car. The van stunk of petrol but about halfway up the Mangaweka's the van ran out of fuel and the last 20 litres were added which got us to Waiouru ok then onto Pukekohe etc for the race meeting. The trip home on the Sunday was pretty much more of the same and the end result was that it was announced to Lyn that no more would we travel with him with leaking fuel cans and smokes etc and that he needed to do something about it before anyone would go to meeting with him again.

A month or so later Lyn calls to tell us that we are going to Pukekohe and that he has fitted a 20 gallon fuel tank out of a Chev pick up into the Transit. Magic stuff so again an all night drive and ferry crossing is in order and everything is running to plan until about 1.00am when I start driving up the Mangaweka's and the bloody Transit runs out of fuel again. The fuel gauge shows better than 1/2 a tank so a quick dip of the tank shows plenty of fuel on the stick and further investigation shows that Lyn has fitted the standard Transit fuel line to the front end of a fuel tank and as the tank takes up most of the space between the front and rear wheels we have about 50 litres of fuel that is at one end of the tank whilst the pick up is at the other end and that is why Lyn had to reverse the Tranny & trailer up just about every hill between Taihape and Waiouru.

Lyn did carry out some closely supervised rectification before we returned home.

[Grant Sprague]

Paul , I often thought "what happened to that finger " lol .. now I know ...

[BMCBOY]

[QUOTE=Rod Grimwood;30546]Peter Davidson and the Masport guys had a transit V6 and the Mazda Dealer Team guys had a Transit with V8 thanks to Ron Kendall, John Butler and boys both with the big roof racks that Carlo mentioned.

I have seen this restored transit around - great original rego plate.
It looks a bit smarter than it did in the 70's.

[Rod Grimwood]

Great photos, they were good. As Carlo mentioned a larger tank was the call. Pretty sure the Mazda Dealer one had a Mk3 Zephyr diff head which went into the transit housing fitted to give it better highway cruise and not so many revs with the V8 and auto.

[Carlo]

Right again Rod, fit the Mk3 diff head to the Transit and then take the 5.1 crown wheel & pinion from the Transit and fit it into the Escort Atlas axle.

[Howard Wood]

What a great thread - Howard Wood is out of town at the moment so won't see this for another few hours - but there is a story about him and his late brother, the Desert Road, and the truck carrying their Cheetah FFs which had me doubled up when I first heard it...

Most of my memories of "interesting" motor racing road trips involve heroic efforts to keep old/ unsuitable/ unreliable tow vehicles running. Looking back, I suspect we spent more time and effort on tow cars than the race cars.

As my brother Donald and I were running a FF each for the '73-'74 season we built a "transporter" from an 1952 Bedford K model truck, complete with "accommodation". I would like to say that it served us well but that would be lying, its final road trip was returning from a Manfeild round late in the season. Donald was to drive back to our Hamilton base alone, a trip which of course didn't begin until all the post race festivities had ended.

Some time in the very early hours of the morning, along the desert road, the thing ran a big end bearing. Deciding there was little to be done until daylight, Donald retired to the "accommodation", actually the cockpit of a FF. At first light, he got to work on the side of the road, removing the sump (still full of oil as he did not have a suitable container), pulling out the offending bearing,con rod and piston before bolting it all up again. Of course, while cleaning up the area as all good mechanics do, he discovered the hose clip that he had intended to use to cover the oil supply hole on the crank so had to repeat the whole process all over again.

Finally back on the road, the now 5 cylinder Bedford had lost a little of its previous 40 mph performance and of course was vibrating something fierce but mobile, sort of. Of course, the run bearing hadn't done anything to improve the engine which was now using oil at an alarming rate so over the course of the day and next night Donald drained first the engine oil from both the FFs then the gearbox oil to keep the old girl going.

As he was travelling so slowly, keeping as far left as possible it was only a matter of time before both left rear wheels were punctured so one flat left was swapped with the right giving one inflated and one flat tyre per side and the trip continued. Finally, 36 hours after leaving Manfeild the outskirts of Hamilton were appearing and for the first time Donald felt that he might actually make it home when a elderly gent on a bicycle passed (!) him pointing out that both the remaining rear tyres were deflating.

At this point there was nothing left to do but complete the trip (triumphantly?) on foot.

Needless to say, we sold the truck soon after to a hippie who wanted to convert it into a house bus for a life on the road. Good luck with that!

[Michael Clark]

C'mon guys - this is too good a thread to let sink!

[225sloper]

Many years ago while growing up in Wanganui me and two mates headed off to Thunder Park in my mates HD Premier. We were about 18-19.We were coming down the hill bout to take the Feilding turnoff when we came across a white van.I was in the back seat so as we passed i mooned the white van then heard my mates yelling at me,i had just mooned a van load of Black Power members,we took off,my mate who owned the car was sure they would see it one day and beat him up.We got to Thunder Park and about two hours later two Black Power members came up to me and said are you the honky with the white a$@hole in the blue Holden,i said no sorry we came in a red Vailant,they then precided to tell me what they were goin to do to me if they ever found out.The rest off the day was spent looking over my shoulder instead of watching the racing.