Stirling
tries to find the way into the cockpit of the Lotus
Record Breaker, and causes some amusement to
Colin Chapman, Frank Costin and Brian Turle.
In this exclusive article Stirling
describes the hazards of record breaking on Monza's bumpy
track, and the drama of this particular attempt.
I ARRANGED
with Colin Chapman to have a
crack at some of the
International Class G records
in a 1,100 c.c. Lotus
Eleven, at the Monza track
during October.
Then we
heard that the track would
not be available at the
time and so hurriedly we had to
change the date to
Monday, September 3rd—the day
after the European Grand
Prix.
You can imagine the reaction from
Lotus Engineering
Company when I told them
on the telephone that the
"record breaker" was required in Italy in eight days.
As I was so tied up with
Maseratis before the Grand Prix,
I was not directly connected with preparation
of the Lotus for the
attempt but I heard what was
going on from Colin
Chapman ("brains and brawn "
of the Lotus Company) and
from Ken Gregory who
was responsible for the
administration side of the
venture.
My telephone call gave Colin something to think
about. Apparently he
walked out of his office, took
a quick look at three
Lotus cars in the process of
construction, picked out
the most advanced one and
said, "This will
have to be the car for Monza." There
is no doubt therefore
that the car we used was absolutely
standard, and my only
hope is that the overseas
customer for whom it was
intended has received a
replacement.
In
view of the short time available, preparation of
the "record
breaker" was given super priority and
work continued long into
the nights. Main variation
from the standard
"Eleven" was the welding into
place of the head
fairing, (which is, I understand, to be
a feature of all new
Lotus cars) with a completely
enveloping bubble cockpit
cover. This cover was a
Perspex extension of the
standard windscreen which
lapped into a groove in
the head fairing. A Stage 2,
1,100 c.c. Coventry
Climax engine was installed, but
in place of the normal SU
carburetters, they fitted a
pair of Weber twin-choke
units.
Dunlops
were developing special tyres for the original attempt
scheduled for October, in view of the unusual
characteristics of car
and track. We were going to
do very high speeds with
a car of very low weight on a
very bumpy
surface—however, the drastic bringing
forward of the date made
it impossible to have the
special tyres ready.
Therefore, as an interim measure it
was decided to fit
slightly larger tyres than was usual
on the
"Eleven". It transpired that these tyres, together with the lack of time for
testing the car, were a vital
factor in the subsequent
attempt.
One
point which must be remembered about the
Monza banked turns is
that the track is constructed
of concrete slabs of
uniform size supported on pillars,
and there are still
definite irregularities, like ruts, at
the joints despite much
work to remove them. In those
circumstances it was
essential that the circumference
of the tyre should not be
a factor of the distance
between joins, otherwise
the same spot on the treads
would be subjected to
repeated damaging blows. Got it?
At
the "eleventh hour," the car was given a very
carefully applied coat of
paint, and great attention
was paid to all body
joints to make them as perfect as
possible. Although it was
not sprayed, the undertray
was polished and the
joints there were masked over, so
that the air would flow
cleanly under the car. Completion
was literally in the "nick of time" and the car
was pushed straight out
of the workshop on to a trailer
hitched behind my
Vanguard van, and that combination
was driven flat out to
Italy.
It
had been intended at least to do some running-in
laps on the Sunday
evening or very early on the
Monday, but torrential
rain put paid to those plans
so that when my practice
in the car began it had done
less than two miles under
its own power.
On
the morning of the attempt I had to get up before 6
o'clock—a wretched hour under any circumstances, but even
more horrible when you have driven
the full distance of a
Grand Prix the day before.
I awoke to a strong smell
of garlic, a smell I dislike
intensely—but found it
was from a nearby Cif petrol
refinery. This evil smell
did, however, add to my haste
in leaving the hotel
quite near the Monza track. On
arrival I had great
difficulty in persuading the old
woman at the entrance
that I had come on official
business and was not just
a sightseer, and therefore
should not pay—fancy
sightseeing at that hour of the
morning.
I
found the Lotus surrounded by an active crowd
of people and looking
very sleek and purposeful in its
coat of shining green
paint. Already in attendance
were Colin and Ken, aided
by Mike and Frank Costin,
chief mechanic and
aerodynamicist of Lotus respectively,
Brian Turle of Shell and
Dennis Druitt of BP Petroleum,
and Dunlop
"Mac" from the famous British tyre
company were there, too.
Everything seemed to be
ready and Colin
immediately began explaining to me
how to get into this, his
latest creation. It soon became
obvious that the only
easy way to enter this Lotus
was first to lay under a
steam roller. The complete
Perspex bubble cockpit
cover was fixed in position and
I had to make entrance by
sliding through the little space left in the side when the normal
"Eleven"
hinge-down door was open.
Finally,
I mastered the art of inserting myself therein
and set off for a few
practice laps. I found the driving
position very comfortable
and the air conditioning
excellent; great thought
must have been given to the
latter as I was in a
completely enclosed cockpit yet
there was a delightfully
fresh supply of air around
me. This air appeared to
enter by a small slit beneath
the front of the screen
and pass out through two small
slots in the top of the
bubble. Frank Costin must have
placed these slots in
exactly the right place, whereas I
always had plenty of
fresh air around me, I never had
air actually rushing past
me.
I
seemed to take up all the available driving space
in the car, for even
though I appeared to be sitting
very low down, my helmet
nearly touched the Perspex
top. On my practice runs
I put in a few laps at one
minute nine seconds (135
m.p.h.) and quickly got the
feel of the car—this
was the first time I had driven a
Lotus. I found that it
weaved a little on the banking
and that at times I could
hear wheel arch bottoming
on the near-side rear
tyre. On the banking I needed a
foot-rest for my left
foot but after returning to the pits
I had to agree with Colin
that there was just no room
to fit one.
After
my practice runs the car was filled with fuel,
the filler caps were
taped over, further to improve the
streamlining, and I took
on some sweets for nourishment. Then, still at a time before
most people have
reached their office
desk, 8.20 a.m.—the record attempt
began.
I
completed the standing lap in 1 minute 21 seconds,
115.58 m.p.h., and found
that the car was handling well,
although at full revs it
was vibrating a little and still
weaving on the banking.
My second lap was completed
in 1 minute 9 seconds,
and I found on the third lap
that the car was entering
the South Banking at 7,400
r.p.m., which we worked
out later to be an actual
speed of 148 m.p.h.
The
car was going round the
banking just on 7,000
r.p.m., and as the laps went by
I noticed that the
bumping at the rear appeared to be
getting worse—I
immediately put this down to the
extra fuel, and my
sweets. About this time I put in
the fastest lap of the
attempt in 1 minute 7.6 seconds
(138.30 m.p.h.).
The
banging at the rear of the car became more and
more noticeable. Suddenly, as I went on to the banking
the cockpit door fell
open. I had to try and close it with
one hand and with the other hold the car round
the banking at over 130
m.p.h.
Immediately
I did shut the door I thought I was under
fire from the local Boys'
Brigade. It felt as if airgun
pellets were flying
around the cockpit and dropping
into my lap. I then
realised that these were the bolts
holding the Perspex
cockpit top in position, but I was
too occupied with the
weaving of the car and a sudden
drop of 400 revs to
wonder why these bolts should
suddenly start dropping
out. As usual, next time past
the pits, I looked for
the lap time, but I sensed more
activity than usual
there. I put this down to the fact
that I had covered the 50
kilometre distance and had
perhaps beaten the
existing record.
As
I went on to the banking again I spotted ahead a
strange heap lying at the
bottom of the track. Flashing
past this inert lump, I
recognised to my horror that it
was the complete rear
bodywork of the Lotus which
I was driving. The next
signal called me into the pits.
It transpired, from
inspection after the run, that the
larger tyres had been
hitting the underside of the wheel
arches before the
suspension bottomed on the bump-stops.
The terrific
hammering that the rear wheels
had given the bodywork
over this bumpy track, had
slowly caused the rear
body section to lift very slightly.
Any change such as this
in contour of aerodynamic
shape can be serious, and
in this case a slit was made
into which air was
pouring until pressure built up to
such a pitch that it
caused the "quick release " tail
bodywork to release
itself a little too quickly.
The
banging at the rear did not diminish with the
jettisoning of the body
but increased as a rear sub-frame member fractured
and allowed the rear-mounted
battery to droop and take
a severe hammering from the
track. This unfortunate
sequence of events put paid
to the attempt and so the
signal had gone out to call
me into the pits. I was
most disappointed as I had
been most impressed with
the performance of the car,
and I feel it could
easily have collected all the records
up to one hour.
We
all agreed that the whole project had been well
worth while and I am sure
a great deal was learned
by Colin Chapman and his
"merry men." In a
nearby cafe we were
delighted to learn that subject to
FIA confirmation, we had
taken International Class
Records for 50 km. at an
average speed of 135.54
m.p.h. (218.12 k.p.h.)
and 50 miles at 132.77 m.p.h.
(213.66 k.p.h.). |