automobiles

Well, They put One of my Two Favorite Ferraris on the Cover

I don’t particularly love cars from the 1970s, but there were some true icons. While Lamborghini was stuck with the utterly awful Countach which only an ’80s stockbroker could love, Ferrari designed it’s two prettiest cars ever.

If someone were to gift me one Ferrari with the caveat that I couldn’t sell it, I’d go for a 512 BBi. But if no 512s were available, the 308 GTB (it has to be a coupe) would be my next choice. These are far from the fastest Ferraris today, and they are far from the most expensive… but they are so pretty. Hell, even the Dino pales before these in my eyes.

So, seeing it on the cover of the December 1976 issue of Road & Track was very cool, as was the comment by Bob Bondurant–a man who knows a lot about Ferraris–that it was the best sports car he’d ever driven. I may need to buy one of these before the price skyrockets, as it eventually does on all cars that wear the prancing horse. They seem to be about $80K today for a reasonable if not perfect one, and they’ll only go up, so that’s my investor tip for the day.

Anyway, this mag was a good one. The 308 article is fun, as is the coverage of the Pebble Beach concours and the Monterey Historics, and the article on the Maserati Birdcage is as cool as expected (coverage of the Birdcage is not as frequent as that around other classic racers). Finally, a paragraph apart for the Penske that won a Grand Prix. As far as I can remember, it’s the last American car to win an F1 race.

So a great issue and overall and a good step towards the 1980s. After the drama of the early emissions and safety madness, engineers were finally managing to make the cars less bad. They still had a long way to make them as good as the cars from before the legislation… but engineers are smarter than lawmakers, so they will eventually win the tug-of-war.

Anyway, a worthwhile issue.

Gustavo Bondoni’s is a novelist and short story writer whose latest book is called Test Site Horror. It’s an action-packed thriller in which genetically modified dinosaurs and indescribable monsters vie for superiority… while a group of people try to stay alive in the middle of it all. You can check it out here.

The Spirit of ’76

All right, so it might not be the best post title for something about two magazines that feature an Italian car and a German-designed ford on the covers. But at least they’re American car magazines edited in 1976, specifically in September and October of that year.

But the title isn’t as misleading as you might think, either. Whenever someone speaks to me of the spirit of the bicentennial as an automotive question, I immediately think of John Greenwood’s Corvette which ran at Le Mans that year. Cartoonish, overdone and the fastest thing down the Mulsanne until the 400 Km/h WMPs (and still one of the fastest things that will ever go down the straight since they emasculated the course with chicanes). The French, of course, loved the thing. Pure spectacle has always had its place at La Sarthe.

One car can’t make a race, of course, so the organizers invited a couple of NASCAR stockers, too. None of these cars would last very long… but it didn’t matter. Le Mans in 1976 will always be AMericanized.

The other interesting stuff in this duo are the Italianate interview of Giorgetto Giugaro, possibly the last master of Italian design and also the Bertone Navajo on the cover.

But the truly huge news was the coverage of the Swedish GP in which the six-wheeled Tyrrells won their only race. Such a glorious vehicle deserved to go out with a win. Everyone who saw them race remembers them (and those of us too young to see them can’t believe they raced them!), just like everyone who heard a Ferrari GP V12 won’t forget. To be honest, in today’s Formula One, there is zero technical interest unless you’re an aerodynamicist and the cars sound stupid. The only interest in F1 is to see if it rains and Max Verstappen can do something from the second row (And I hate Verstappen because his car isn’t the right color… remember that, in F1, there are three types of drivers: arch enemies, field fillers and wonderful drivers in red cars).

But the F1 six-wheelers. Hell, they were far from the most successful of Ken Tyrrell’s machines… but they are the one that everyone remembers.

And they won that Swedish GP. Awesome.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose work spans every genre except Westerns. Well, that’s not true, he’ll write an occasional SFF Western story. His latest novel is a monster book entitled Test Lab Horror, which follows the adventures of a team of Spetsnaz soldiers as they try to keep a group of civilians alive while genetically modified dinosaurs rampage around them. You can check it out here.

Timelessness, Thy Name is Classic and Sportscar

As you already know, I read old car magazines and write about them here when not complaining about the writing world or reviewing SF and Fantasy (and other) books. Each magazine has a personal style, a feeling you get when reading the thing.

So when I picked up the very first issue of Classic and Sportscar (it was originally published as Old Motor, and I hope to review some of those magazines in the future, too), I expected the April 1982 Edition to continue some of the trends I love from the modern editions of this magazine, namely spectacularly clean design, tight editing and a wonderful, lush feel – I honestly believe the modern C&SC is the world’s most beautiful and luxurious magazine.

I was quite surprised to find that wasn’t the case in April 1982. The first thing that jumps out is that there is a lot less color than in the spectacular modern editions, but I suppose in the austere conditions in England in the early ’80s, you couldn’t expect much. The editing was… let’s just say I spotted a few errors that would not be there today.

But it still felt like C&SC. The quirkiness of the writing was evident (perhaps even moreso than today… it’s a sad state of affairs when British eccentricity begins to fall by the wayside), of course, but that wasn’t it. Only as I sat down to write this piece did I realize what it is: updated with color pics and better design, the entire issue, except for the time-based club events pages, could be published today and no one would be the wiser. Just update the values and the names of the specialists that deal with keeping each kind of car on the road and presto, a 2021 edition of C&SC.

This is amazing to me, immersed as I’ve been in the perusal of old Road & Tracks. The American mags just ooze seventies (I wanted to say charm, but the seventies had no charm) essence while this magazine is timeless. The subject matter helps, of course: classic cars are not built in the period in which they are written about, so it should make little difference if you’re writing in 1982 or 2002 or 2022.

But that’s not all. It’s a question of the culture outside the magazine permeating into the writing of one while being blocked from the other. The writing, the colors, the ads are all less period-influenced in the British mag than they are in the US one. In C&SC‘s case, even the ads seem a little less period garish (one of the wonders of old R&Ts are the cigarette ads, so 70s it hurts).

That’s a pretty special quality, and a key ingredient for one of the world’s best magazines. In fact all the ingredients were there… the overall quality just needed to be tweaked a little to achieve the spectacular results you can find on the newsstand today.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest book is a monster novel entitled Test Site Horror. If international intrigue, nonstop action and genetically-modified creatures are something you enjoy, then by all means check it out, here.

The Year of Rush

It’s not often that anything I write about outside the 1001 movies list has wide appeal, much less is something related to a blockbuster movie. But now that I’ve gotten to the 1976 Road & Tracks, I can finally link it to a big film.

You see, 1976 was the year of Rush.

So, it’s fitting that the May 1976 edition has a cover photo showing a Ferrari Formula One car, if not the one that Lauda drove in ’76, at least one that he’d driven earlier. Of course, the race coverage in this one and the June 1976 edition had no idea of the drama that was about to unfold during the season, and Rob Walker limited himself to noting how well the Ferrari steamroller, world champions in ’75 were performing in the new season.

Aligned with the Rush theme of hedonism, the joy of living and the acceptance as risk as a part of life, the June issue was full of convertibles, which is R&T’s way of thumbing its nose at the social engineers of the day, as convertibles were disappearing because many considered them unsafe. Fortunately, the misguided jackasses trying to save us from ourselves didn’t win that battle – you can still buy a convertible in a showroom today.

And the more I spend time in the 70s with these mags, the more I realize that people in that decade were much more concerned with having fun than we are. Now before you tell me that the economy today and yadda yadda yadda, remember that the 1970s were a time of rampant inflation and economic woe (and stupid legislation like the 55 mph speed limit). And yet people were out to enjoy life.

You can see it in the race reports, in the way cars were styled and in the irreverent tone of some of the articles, but mostly, you can see it in the ads. This was a time before people were supposed to hide their preferences, before the mass oppression of society got into everyone’s life. So yeah, cigarette ads on every other page showing people outdoors or living risky lifestyles (race drivers, hang gliding). Bikini-clad models selling carpets, ads for catamarans, weird Dodge Van customizing kits for sale from Dodge itself. Everyone wore bushy mustaches.

Even if the mustaches aren’t your thing, you end up with an image of the seventies being a hedonistic age, and like all hedonistic ages, a good one. It’s hard for me to say this, as I’ve always thought it was a decade that should have been erased from history (and disco, hedonistic or not, definitely should be deleted from the record forever), but I’ve come to understand that the people from back then could teach our dour, moralistic society a thing or two about relaxing and just having a good time.

That sociological trip through the decade might be the best part of reading these old magazines… even though I also love the car stuff.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest novel is entitled Test Site Horror. It follows a Russian Special Forces soldier trying to keep an alluring journalist alive after she bites off a story much too big to chew. Fast-paced and exciting, you can check it out here.

Little and Large R&Ts

The January and April 1976 issues of Road & Track are a study in contrasts, with March being a slimline one of just 111 pages and April being a big block of a magazine of 152. It may not seem like much of a difference, but you can definitely feel the heft of one and the insubstantiality of the other.

The differences don’t end in size, though. There’s also the question of what that extra bulk is used for in the April edition… notably a massive tire test in the tradition of the October 1974 shock absorber test we ignored when we reviewed that issue. That made up quite a few of the extra pages, with some more coming from the April Fool’s test, a Road & Track tradition in which they test some utterly inappropriate vehicle in a tongue-in-cheek way. They’ve done the Queen Mary, the Concorde, etc., but this time it was more prosaic. They simply did a slightly satirical Road Test of a Lincoln limo. Of course, it could only have been written by R&Ts resident wit, Henry N. Manney III.

Other notable features of these two are the fact that the Salon article (the Salon is a traditional feature of this magazine which showcases a classic car) was the first I’ve seen which had the format I fell in love with in the 1980s and 1990s – a full-color article highlighted by a double-page photo. Running into that made me very happy.

The other major thing going on was the runup to the first Long Beach Formula One Grand Prix. First, they ran an F5000 race (article by that man Manney, again) which, being a rousing success, paved the way for the full grand prix cars to come later. It’s a major item as they became one of the few countries to hold two Grands Prix in the same year.

Of course, there are more similarities than differences – both are 1970s R&Ts after all, but it was interesting to note the differences. I’ll keep everyone posted as to how things go in the rest of the 1970s. I know you’re all sitting on the edge of your seat waiting for this…

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and shorts story writer whose latest book is a creature feature entitled Test Site Horror which, as the title gently hints, is about bad things happening where people played with the wrong kind of experiments. Some of the bad things happen to bad people, some to good people, and most involve large monsters. It that sounds like something you’d enjoy, you can check it out here.

This is where I came in

December 1975. A good month, if only because I was born in it (well, a good month for me, anyhow). Of course, the December 1975 issue of R&T was probably not published in December, landing on newsstands sometime in November, and it certainly didn’t report stuff happening in December. But it’s still, to a certain degree, “my” issue.

Starts off with a good cover for me. No econoboxes on my month, but no overly ostentatious exotica, either. Just a weird, one-of-a-kind concept car that was too strange to build more of. Sounds about right to represent me, so I’ll leave off the analysis and dive into the mag.

As an old-car enthusiast, I found the article on the 25th Anniversary of the Pebble Beach Concours D’Elegance to be a wonderful piece, especially since it speaks to the origins of the concours which is still going on 45 years later. Delightful.

The rest of the issue also worked for me, as Road & Track went the interesting cars route for this issue, eschewing the more mundane stuff your neighbor was driving in ’75. So Alfas and Maseratis and Porsches (lots of Porsches) instead of Fords and Cadillacs.

A side note when talking about the competition pieces is that this is the issue where R&T reported the death of Mark Donohue. If this hadn’t been the December issue, this post would have dealt entirely with Donohue, who was truly a one-of-a-kind driver. He raced, retired and was miserable out of the cockpit, so he returned and was killed in an F1 practice. Knowing just how bad his life was without racing, maybe it was for the best… but the sport lost a beloved ambassador and a man equally at home developing race cars as driving them. The hole he left is still felt today.

Other than that, the racing coverage was amazing, which ended up making me think that the good folks at R&T built it especially for me.

They didn’t, of course, but who’s going to take away a newborn baby’s fantasy?

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest book is a fast-paced action adventure romp with genetically modified monsters. Fun from page one. You can check it out here.

Econoboxes on the Cover

When you think of cars in the 1970s, it’s likely that you think of the kind of Detroit iron that cops would drive in the movies. Squarish Fords of some kind, and not small ones, either.

But the truth is that the mid-seventies, post fuel crisis is when the American love affair with the automobile ended with a regulatory and socially-responsible thud. Much like today, this was an era that frowned upon the fun and the frivolous.

The era’s most lasting contribution to humanity? The econobox, that wonderful combination of low-performance, small size and low-driving-pleasure mitigated only by low cost and better fuel mileage. The social engineer’s dream car.

Of course, automotive engineers being what they are (wonderful enthusiasts at heart), the econobox soon grew offshoots into the world of pleasure, but the only clue to that brighter future was the green VW Golf on the cover. Though this wasn’t a sporting Golf, it was nimble and fun… and great things were to come with something called a GTI in short order.

As if to balance out the econoboxes (Consumer Reports couldn’t have done a better job of getting boring cars together), there is a boatload of motorsports content in this issue, everything from going to the Daytona 24 with the BMW IMSA team to the start of the 1975 F1 season…

Overall, a frightening cover, but a good read.

Gustavo Bondoni is an Argentine novelist and short story writer whose latest book, Test Site Horror, continues his success in the monster genre (and he hopes it is as critically well-received as his previous efforts in the category). This one is about a herd of prehistoric killers released into a valley in the Ural Mountains and the men who try to avoid getting killed by them. You can check it out here.

Starting off 1975 nice and varied

As it’s the year of my birth, I entered my reading of the 1975 R&Ts interested to see what was happening in the automotive world, and the first two magazines in my pile of 75s, March and April, did a good job of that.

The first piece of welcome news was that the Energy Crisis was over, and some of the more outlandish legislation was being revisited–at least in Europe. Speed limits were being returned to slightly higher levels and Germany went back to unlimited highway speed, which is logical considering that it was proven that most of the reduction in road deaths during the crisis months had little to do with reduced highway speed limits. In fact, an interesting article in one of these magazines highlights the fact that, even with the unlimited speed limit reinstated, Germany had the one of the highest reductions in road deaths.

Unfortunately, the US ignored the data, bowed to those who went with their feelings and retained the imbecilic 55 for another two decades in one of the dumbest examples of the tyranny of the majority ever seen. But the editors of the magazine didn’t know that at the time, and the text was rife with hope that sanity, as opposed to parsimonious big-brotherism, would prevail.

Another interesting thing discussed in these issues was the Bricklin, a now-forgotten safety sports car that attracted plenty of attention in its day and then sank without a trace. The first drive here gives a few good reasons for the debacle… and the nice thing about 1970’s automotive journalism is that there’s little need to read between the lines: the build quality and some of the design decisions were utterly awful.

In other news, this was the era of the launch of cars that would become juggernauts (the VW Golf) and cars that were heralded as the next great thing and sold really well, but are now reviled (the Triumph TR7).

And they’re the years of Porsche coming to maturity. After being the enfant terrible of the racing and production car circles for years, the company now had to navigate a fuel crisis while selling only expensive sports cars and also wait for the top class of GT racing to evolve to the point where they could truly compete against others.

We now know that the 935 was coming, but Porsche didn’t, and they were understandably nervous. And yet… the tiny company always took up an amount of space in the pages of this magazine that is truly disproportionate to its size.

These two make a good ’75 sampler.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest book is an entertaining romp through the Ural mountains… which have become infesed with genetically-modified monsters. Test Site Horror has everything for both the horror lovers and the thriller enthusiasts among you, and you can check it out here.

Death and Rebirth – The 1950s at Le Mans

Le Mans is my favorite auto race. It competes for that position with the Indy 500, but it wins because it’s an entire day on a long, challenging, character-filled track. Yes, the chicanes on the line droit des hunaudieres are a travesty and those who approved them in the 90s should be retroactively shot… but even with that, it’s a beautiful thing. I’d love to see it in person someday.

So Quentin Spurring’s wonderful decade-by-decade look at the race, including the organization, each entrant and the events of the race itself, represent my absolute favorite piece of nonfiction reading. I like these even better than the Collector’s Press Horror/Science Fiction/Fantasy of the 20th Century series, and that’s saying a huge amount.

The 1950’s are not my favorite Le Mans Decades (those would be the 60’s, 70’s and 80’s), but Le Mans 1949-59 is a truly wonderful book anyway. The best thing about it is that it dedicates few pages to the 1955 accident.

For those of you who are new to this, that race is infamous because a Mercedes 300 SLR driven by Pierre Levegh crashed on the pit straight, got airborne and landed in the crowd, killing the driver and 84 spectators.

Cue the immediate overreaction in which several countries banned motorsport outright. Most countries saw how ridiculous that was almost immediately–only the dorky Swiss still insist on keeping the ban around.

Worse, however is the fact that so much ink has been spilled, all the way to the modern day, about that crash, as if it was a difficult phenomenon to explain. Essentially, it can be summed up in a few lines–in an era where speeds were increasing faster than most people expected, and crowd protection was laissez-faire, to put it mildly, something like this was in the cards. To a certain degree, considering that a lot of races were still run on open roads with people wandering in to see race cars capable of nearly 200 mph flashing past, it’s unfair that it happened to Le Mans.

Unfortunately, it did, and the French, to their credit, ignored the initial overreaction, corrected the public safety issues and went on with the race the next year.

What I love about this book is that the 1955 race report is not about the accident. It’s about the race and the drivers and the cars, which is how it should be. The accident is given its own section, much smaller than the race report proper. It was an important event (the deadliest motor racing accident in history, and a real tragedy), so ignoring it would have been just as bad as giving it too much space. Spurring got the balance exactly right.

Which is pretty much what I’d say about the rest of the book. It’s a hefty tome with a lot of minor teams and entrants profiled, yet it never bores the reader because there’s always something interesting about every last entrant… and I can’t even imagine what kind of research was involved in getting that data on obscure teams.

When you remember that this decade represents the rebirth after the destruction of WW2, one can only be thankful the race survived, and came back stronger than ever.

Anyhow, I can’t recommend this one to the general public because I fear a lynch mob as much as the next man. But if you’re a motorsport enthusiast, these are not only indispensable but fun.

Get them. Read them. You can thank me later.

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose latest book is a monster romp through the Darien Gap. It’s fun, too, and the title is Jungle Lab Terror. You can check it out here.

Closing Out 1974

We continue our run through 1970s Road & Tracks. Though I don’t have all of them (will fill gaps once I get through the current pile and have a good handle on which ones I’ve got), 1974 was a very full year (just scroll through the older posts to see the ones I’ve been reading).

But now, with the November and December issues, it’s a year we’re closing. To be honest, it’s a great way to end the year. The covers have a McLaren sports car (unlike the new ones, this one never went into production) and a Ferrari GT. Much better than econoboxes and downsized Detroit barges.

There’s actually a reason this happened towards the end of years for R&T back then, and that’s because road tests of cars for each model year were performed towards the beginning of that year so consumers could evaluate a car they might want to purchase before the new models started arriving. With the loss of the yearly model changes (think ’57 Chevy vs. ’58 Chevy to understand what I’m talking about), this has become less critical today.

In the mid seventies, next year’s cars were also a problem. Due to regulatory overzealousness, each successive year’s vehicles were heavier, slower, less fuel-efficient and uglier than the previous year’s crop. So getting late road tests was a real problem.

By the time November and December rolled around, there were no more consumer-relevant vehicles to feature, so one could go out and do track tests of road vs. race Ferraris for the cover, or feature the only road-going McLaren available to the public until the F1 debuted over twenty years later.

That hedonism is much more fun than dreary socially-conscious drudgery…

The one concession to the times was an article about electric motors which pretty much was summed up by the phrase: electric cars are fine for short distances, but destroy your capacity to move long distances in the way you’re accustomed to doing.

I’ve seen that California will mandate zero emissions vehicles in the next couple of decades which might mean (unless things change) that driving across the country will be a thing of the past for the citizens of that particular state. If that freedom is removed, then the US will need to remove “the land of the free” from any communication. Any country that includes a state that legislates away its citizens’ capacity to drive across the country cannot call itself “free”.

Anyway, next report will be from the wild confines of 1975, which is a special year for me… because I was born in ’75!

Gustavo Bondoni is a novelist and short story writer whose novel Incursion starts off with a suicide mission in deep space that gets even more complicated, and soon becomes a desperate battle against an unexpected enemy. You can check it out here.