Category Archives: Warwick Patterson

Car Movies: Un Homme et Une Femme

Although the classic French movie Un Homme et Une Femme (A Man and a Woman) is essentially a love story between the character Jean-Louis and the young widow, Anne, the former is a racing driver and the movie features a lot of great cars. From Mustangs on the road to a Brabham and GT40 on the track, this movie is a must-see for all classic car fans.

Directed by none other than Claude Lelouch, of C’Etait Un Rendezvous infamy, the movie was a critical success, being awarded a Grand Prix at the 1966 Cannes Festival, and a Golden Globe for the soundtrack. It features the rich visual style of Lelouch, a quirky French cinéma style, and the now-uncommon trait of telling the story through images instead of constant dialogue.

Enjoy this trailer for the movie, and an extended race car scene, and be sure to find the full film if you haven’t already!

Paddocks of the Past: Silverstone 1973

Yardley McLaren Transporter, Silverstone 1973

Yardley McLaren Transporter, Silverstone 1973 (Click to Enlarge)

Yardley McLaren team members start to unload their team transporter at the 1973 John Player Special British Grand Prix at Silverstone. Compared to the multi-level transforming ‘hospitality suites’ the F1 circus has now, the transporters of 1973 were little more than a shed on wheels.

The two McLaren M23 F1 cars epitomize the “wings and slicks” era. With their massive whale-tail wings, aeroquip hoses, and tall airboxes, they look impressive, with the car on top for Jody Sheckter, and the bottom for American racer, Peter Revson. Revson would go on to win the Grand Prix that weekend, after a huge startline pile-up forced a restart (see video below). Can’t quite figure out what the man with the headset has in his hand, and what the two people on the ground are up to.  Perhaps a TV crew?

Classic cameras for classic cars

When I started shooting action sports and mountain biking movies about 10 years ago, my first camera was an old Bolex 16mm camera. Shooting on film was a great learning process, and certainly made you focus on the task at hand. With only two minutes (and $60) worth of film on each reel, you learned to get things right the first time. Set and check exposure with a light meter. Choose focal length, shutter speed and frame rate. Roll camera (clackity-clackity-clack), and cue action! If all went well, you’d find out in a few weeks or months – whenever you got the film developed – whether that shot worked out. Pretty soon, the switch to digital video was made and I’ve never looked back.

Lugging modern high-definition cameras around at a vintage meet somehow seems to defeat the purpose and aesthetic of these events. We immerse ourselves in the atmosphere and culture of a bygone era – especially at events like Goodwood – and yet you rarely see vintage camera gear. Don’t get me wrong, I’m no luddite and the new video and photo gear is amazing, but I’ve been thinking about dusting off my old Bolex H16 to shoot some historic racing this year. Today’s video post on the always wonderful Chicane Blog has me convinced to give it a go:

Filmmaker Dikayl Rimmasch shot some great footage of the 2006 Rolex Invitational at Lime Rock testing two historic film cameras, a Bell & Howell 70 KRM (the KRM was the military model, this example was from the Vietnam era) and a 1930’s Cine Kodak. The beauty of these cameras is that you can achieve a very vintage look (grain, light flicker, etc) without having to fake it in post-production. The result is a gorgeous piece of film who’s technique does a service to the subject matter. Great stuff.


Project Mini: The Halfway Point

Occasionally, Classic Car Adventures will have an update on our in-house project cars, and also those of our readers. In this first installment of the Project Mini series, Warwick has reached a milestone in his first ever restoration – the teardown to bare shell is complete!

Owner: Warwick
Car: 1966 Austin Mini 850
Project Status: Car has been fully stripped and sent for a hot bath!
Pros:
Sense of great satisfaction from getting the teardown done.
Cons: Scared to death of what the shell is going to look like when it comes back from rust dip!

The First Day

First off, let me introduce you to “Abby”. She is a ’66 Austin 850 from Vancouver, Canada. The car has lived here it’s whole life, having been in one family since new. Approximately 40,000 miles on the clock and is in a decent state. I bought it in November 2008, and it made its first public appearance on the 2009 Spring Thaw. I drove it all summer, so it was certainly in better nick than some projects I’ve seen people start with! The car had been sitting under a tarp on the side of the road for goodness knows how many years, so I just *had* to rescue it. After a minor tune-up and safety check, we were on our way for the Spring Thaw.

Apart from nearly popping the motor on the first major climb on the ‘Thaw – coolant spraying on the windshield is never good – the Mini handled everything I threw at it for the rest of the event, and indeed the rest of the summer. The usual rust bubbles were popping up, however, and she did have some mechanical gremlins to sort out. As the leaves turned orange and the temperature dropped, I decided I was going to take the plunge and start on a basic restoration. I could turn this thing around in 7 months, right?

Subframes, doors, and glass off - time to get dipped!

Fortunately for me, the ‘Rookie Restorer’, the Mini is as simple as they come. My lack of experience with wrenching on cars has often caused frustration in the past. I told myself at the beginning of this project that I was going to put my head down and just motor through any problems or confusion. Apart from a few rusted and stripped bolts, the Mini didn’t throw up any problems that a forum search or manual read couldn’t solve. Each problem solved resulted in more satisfaction and confidence to attack the next task.

It’s now mid-January, and the Spring Thaw is just three months away. At the beginning of the month, I finally got the last nut and bolt off the car and the shell was officially ‘bare bones’. Its very satisfying to stand back and look at a car that you’ve totally stripped with your own hands. In effect, undoing 40 years of “togetherness!” Visually, it marked a big turning point because now the long climb back to roadworthiness could begin.

It's sometimes handy to have a small car!

I decided to take the shell to Redi-Strip in Vancouver for chemical cleaning and rust removal. As of January 14th, that is where the car sits and I am scared to death of what the car will look like when I pick it up!  Was the shell in as good a condition as I thought, or am I going to get a horrible surprise? I should know by Monday whether I’ve got a 3-month or 13-month project on my hands!

As co-organizer, am I allowed to delay the Spring Thaw a few months to ensure I have a car for it?

Abby disappears into Redi-Strip's warehouse

Then There Was Us: Bill Molle

The late Bill “Doc” Molle was somewhat of a renaissance man: Lawyer, Dentist, legitimate Admiral in the US Navy, and a racer’s racer. He would, as the saying goes, race you for “money, marbles, or chalk”. An active road racer in the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s, he won two Pacific Coast Championships in Class “H” Modified. However, it seems he became a bit disillusioned with all the attention being given to the ‘new’ class of big bore racers, and felt particularly chapped when Jim Hall (of Chaparral fame) came along and usurped his accustomed number ’66’ in the West Coast events.

Bill Molle in his Panhard Special (66) - www.tamsoldracecarsite.net

In his later years, Molle prepared an article “…for Joe Puckett, who began making a small news letter called small times, but he died and the project ended. I tried to get the message across that we were there too.”

Bill sent this unpublished article to “apprentice” motorsport historian, Frank Sheffield, and urged him to put it online. With Frank’s permission, we are reprinting Bill’s article – an honest, humorous, and emotional look back at when sports car racing all began. From turning down a Le Mans drive, to testing harnesses on cadavers, this is a great read. (Note: We have made some minor punctuation and grammar edits for ease of reading, but otherwise it remains as he wrote it.)

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I think it is about time that I say something about “us”. We started this thing about racing about in sports cars in the early 50’s. Some of us went on to gain fame in the big bore machines, such as Shelby, Miles, Motschenbacher, Patrick and many others like these. But there was a much, much larger group of us who, for the lack of money, professional, prior commitments, dedication, made up the bulk of the program. The majority of the crowd in attendance who drive their MG’s, TR’s, Porsches to work every day really came to these events to see how their car did against others like it, and of course there was the Walter Mitty syndrome. Certainly it was exciting to see the big bore monsters run too, but that was icing on the cake.

Bill Molle (far right, cut off) at Riverside in 1969 (Formula Photographic Archives)

Now there was the sweat, work, all night before the race, buying spare parts, making spare parts – even when the kids needed shoes – and doing your own work because you could not hire mechanics and pit crew. You did it with volunteer help who also loved the race, but driving was not their bag, fixing was. It made up a dedicated team of friends who are probably still friends after all these years. Some of us got killed or injured due to lack of skill, mechanical failure and a dozen other reasons, but we still came, for nothing more than a trophy and the occasional fan that wanted your autograph. The mechanics didn’t even get the trophy.

Helping hands at Riverside 1969 (Formula Photographic Archives)

We remember many of the innovative ideas and mechanical gizmos that some of the backyard mechanics made to get more out of the engines. Balchowski, Jerry Fairchild for another. Don Miller with his one-a-week Crosleys, Vaseck Polack cutting the top off of the 356 to make the first roadster. We had ideas and idea of ideas. I had an idea to have shoulder harnesses in the cars, like fighter planes. Chick was president of the Cal Club and he and I built the first shoulder harness and tested them on cadavers in the Dental School morgue. They worked, and Chick mandated the harnesses in the Cal Club. The first Saturday after this rule, Lee Brown tested it for real in a Bug Eye at Riverside. It worked.

We remember the angst of getting the crew together in the early a.m. to get to the race and get through inspection, get the pit passes, con Sylvia into giving you 6 instead of 4 passes. How come they raised the entry fee from 15 dollars to 20? The hard labor of getting the car and tools off the trailer into the pits, and then taking the tow car out of the pits about 600 feet away, where you had to go to get what you forgot. We won’t forget that. We hated it at the time and now we loved every minute of it. We grieved when one of us was killed or injured, we rejoiced when we could win.

Bill Molle's 1952 Fairchild Panhard H-Modified Racecar (www.finecars.cc)

There were lots of us – Monise, Ribbs, Edmiston, Parkinson – who could hold their own against any driver, given the opportunity. I remember listening to the factory rep of Duetsch-Bonnet talking at me for 6 straight hours, pleading me to allow them to use my fuel injection system, offering me the Le Mans ride in their car, but I had enough money to say no. Mostly because the Frenchman all the time he was talking to me was about 2 inches away from my face and he was spitteling on me all the while. I not only got wet, but pissed.

Yes, we had creativity, perseverance, and courage to try. We paid our dues and then some.

Balchowski's 1959 Ole Yeller III (www.conceptcarz.com)

It has come time for us who drove our cars, some home built, some factory cars, and some the production cars that we drove to work the next day if running – to be recognized for the hero drivers we were. Balchoski built Ole Yeller and beat the best of them, Miller built 1500-dollar Crosleys and beat the best France had to offer. I found it much harder to drive to the limit a small bore car with narrow tires than a large horsepower machine that you could help steer with the engine.

It is time for guys that made fame and, once in a rare while, fortune out of the racing to recognize that without us you could not have done it. Now that I am an old geezer, I give this from the heart.

– Bill “Doc” Molle