The Race Cars

[jonto]

Rounding the home banking, the members hill on the inside...
   
   
   
   Lap completed, a wild ride on a light fast car!

[administrator]

Great set of photos - thanks for posting!

[jonto]

The track was certainly in full swing by 1922. The B.A.R.C. Held its usual meetings and secured its usual versatile “fields”. Cars and their occupants were admitted free on Sundays to the Paddock and Lawn, and tea could be had by the top of the Test Hill, so that many Londoners were encouraged  to drive down at non-race week-ends. A "thé dansant" started in the members' room on the Hill at 4 p.m. On these Sundays, with an excellent band, while on weekdays and Sunday afternoons non-members were encouraged to try their vehicles on the Track at a charge per day of 10s. For a car or 5s. for a motor-cycle. How drab by comparison is life today!  (W. Boddy).
   
   A tea dance, or thé dansant (French: literally dancing tea) is a summer or autumn afternoon or early-evening dance from four to seven p.m.,

[Old Crock]

quote:Originally posted by jonto
   
The track was certainly in full swing by 1922...tea could be had by the top of the Test Hill...

   Some reading this thread may not be aware that much of the Brooklands banking is still in place. Below are some photos that I took last year of the old track and the test hill. The cafeteria, referred to above at the top of the test hill, now houses the Brooklands Motor Company (= AC Heritage), the company specialising in, and restoring, all past AC models.
   
   Members' Bridge:
   
   Home Banking, from Members' Bridge:
   
   Home Banking, towards Railway Straight:
   
   Test Hill:
   
   This was alongside one of the old hangars:
   

[jonto]

I was at Oulton Park yesterday,21st, V.S.C.C race day, Ron Footitt's old AC powered GN was there sounding as good as ever...

[jonto]

From The Autocar 1st April 1922
   
   
   (Another picture of the single seater being serviced during a record attempt).
   
     To the average motorist the driver of a racing car is mad; to the enthusiast earthly life seems to hold no higher delight. Actually, there is both more and less excitement in high-speed workthan would be supposed; less because there is some-thing of monotony on the track, more because certain possibilities occasionally seem very vivid indeed.
     Suppose, for example, that a car, preferably a quite small car of a new type, is to set out for the hour record, one of the most coveted
   of the class honours; and suppose also that it is ready. True, this needs quite a large strength of imagination, for few cars ever are ready in time. One or two laps may be covered beforehand to ascertain the feel of the car, and, maybe, to remove or add to the sheilds which blank the radiator; then come a final look round to make sure that everything is right, that balanced wheels actually are fitted, and no unbalanced one used by mistake, the streamlining secure, no spanners left in the underscreen, and that the steering is all present and correct. Steering gear arms and tubes, very wisely, are highly polished, so that any crack or flaw reveals itself quite easily- a precaution that in nine cases out of ten is unnecessary, though, in the tenth case, it may save the drivers life. Before one recent long race, for example, three steering arms were discovered to be flawed.
     The car is almost certain to be a single- seater, generally fitting the driver well and with the clutch pedal away to the left, and the
   brake pedal on the right, and the body sides high enough to allow one to press the elbows against one while gripping the wheel. All the
   driver can see before him are the cowl, an engine revolution counter, a switch, an oil gauge, the steering wheel, and a yard or so of narrow bonnet ans radiator. Somewhere out of sight are the gear lever and the ignition control.
   
   
   
                   (1914 Grand Prix Vauxhall)

[jonto]

Sportsmanship.
     The necessary preliminaries having been completed, a little knot of other friendly, but rival, enthusiasts wish the driver the best of
   luck, though it often is their record that is ti be attacked. This is one of the things that makes Brooklands what it is, for no man,
   however commercially-minded, will not willingly assist another to gain a record.
      The starting point for all records is the pneumatic tube stretched across the track from the box, marking the commencement of the mile,
   which tube conceals the wiring for the elactric timing. Down to this tube moves the car, and once arrived, the driver is loneliness
   personified. Impossible as it is to hear a word above the roar of the exhaust, the attendants' orders are signalled by gestures. An
   uplifted arm is dropped, and with a scream the clutch goes home. Forward moves the ignition lever; the second, third, and top gears
   are meshed in turn as the revolution counter dial shows the correct engine speed, untill at last the car begins to atain real pace,
   and shoots up the home banking. Just as a blur of figures shows in the depot at the home end of the finishing straight, the car flies
   down down to the railway straight, and a "clunk" marks where the timing tube is passed. Thenceforward life is indeed worth the living.
   The edges of the track blend in one continuous blur, the far horizon remains unnoticed, as straight towards the racing bonnet streams
   the grey cement, the driver's head seems to be pressed back by some hidden agency, and the spare goggles' elastic quite hurts his neck.
   All sounds die before one continuous roar of the exhaust, the "rev" counter shows 2,800rpm. (its belt probably slips), and the oil gauge
   hand is steady at "65."
     As the car is turned off the Byfleet banking, the wind catches it full astern, and it leaps forward; up, up go the "revs." to 3,000.
   to 3,500, and the machine is really travelling. A shock, and the car mounts the banking, then in a flash comes the depot and two little
   blurry figures on a blackboard reading "95"- or is it "85"?- anyhow, there is time for but a glance. Plunging down the bank to the
   railway straight, the car steadies into the wind, slows imperceptibly, and becomes more comfortable. A train on the right seems stationary, then up the byfleet banking, a bang, another, and the driver leaves his seat, it seems for ages. Once more the exciting rush to the Vickers shed, with a big shock just after the banking, and a quite decided skid at the corner. Very well, it must be taken less sharply, and the car brought off the far banking earlier.
   
   

[jonto]

Bumps and Physical Jerks.
     Then the deopt-"96" this time- and simultaneously a soul- destroying bump which sends the driver flying in his narrow compartment. That was caused by running on to the concavity in the cement, and which one must guard against carefully the next time round. The car was to low; next time it must be higher, for the underside of the tail has hit the track at least once.
     For perhaps ten laps time and the car fly; the intoxication of speed takes hold of the driver, who urges his mount to even greater efforts, knowing them to be unavailing.
     Pulled off the banking earlier, the car slips a bit, but the Vickers shed corner is less exciting, though there is still a semblance of a front wheel skid. The jolts and bumps become more noticeable, the man is decidedly shaken about, and curiously enough, the second half- hour seems to go quite slowly.
     One of two things soon happens; either the car holds on and a group of delighted enthusiasts hails the completion of the time or- a
   sudden check to the exhaust note, a breif clatter, and something breaks. But, whether it break or whether the coveted record be actually captured, just these few brief moments, and especially when the speed was at three figures, make ample compensation for subsequent fatigue and partial deafness.
     All cars differ. Some make you deaf, some to wonder whether your diaphragm can stand it five minutes longer; some have to be held in
   position, and some are reasonably comfortable. Some, and these are very dangerous, plunge about the banking, lacking all sense of direction, and some never seem even fast. Make differs from make, seemingly identical cars from each other; but from each and every one there is a lesson
   to be learned.
   
   

[jonto]

Next on 22nd October 1921 comes the JCC 200 mile race, AC entered five cars, three special 4cyl OHC cars backed up by the two side valve race cars based on the production Anzani cars. A three car team is usual to enter in racing, but the addition  of the two already proven cars seems to have been a wise move in the light of subsequent events!

[jonto]

Sammy writes-
   
      But once racing restarted, (after the first world war), it was better than ever before, everybody having a mass of superfluous energy to work off and being only too anxious to do it, in season or out. Anyhow, the Junior Car Club, a body that had made its name with the South Harting Hill-Climb
   and a general efficiency trial calculated to wreck practically any car, however good, suddenly announced a 200 Mile Race on Brooklands track for any car with an engine capacity of not more than one and a half litres. The proposition rather took one's breath away, for though nothing could exceed the enthusiasm of that club, the race seemed a gigantic proposition, and big races hitherto had been solely affairs for the R.A.C. In practice, the committee went about shivering with apprehension, yet delighted with the idea, while every driver in the land commenced forthwith to search for a car.
     In this I was lucky, for AC decided to run, and the team of five was based on the 1914 “equipe”, slightly altered, as B.A. Davy of Claudel-Hobson's joined W.G. Brownsort and myself, with G.C. Stead, and a works driver, H.C. Munday , added. John Weller had decided to build three machines of a new type, running two normal racing cars of the pattern that had already proved themselves in competition at the track.

[jonto]

The new cars, when we saw the drawings during a solemn conference at the works, really were extremely promising, being based on a very fast little single-seater with which W. G. Hawker had already done well, there chief point being that the chassis was designed as part of a very pretty streamline body, whereas usually the body has to be thought out afterwards to suit an existing chassis. Moreover, the engines were mostly aluminium alloy, the gear boxes provided four speeds, and the crab-track was retained, that is the rear wheel track was narrower than the front. They were cars typical of John Weller, and I still think that they would have done exceptionally well had they been ready. Unfortunately, that was the one thing they were not, although everybody worked like galley slaves, showing the utmost enthusiasm.

[jonto]

Sammy in the OHC car before the race, who was his mechanic, Head?

[jonto]

Mine I drove from the works two days before the race, and had to take it back at once as the water-pump gland was leaking and the water ran into the base-chamber, where it did the oil no good at all. A night's work at high pressure, several hours' steady running-in, and the leak began again. More feverish work, then more running-in, and this time to the leak was added clutch slip and a strong suspicion that the contact-maker cam – the engine had battery ignition – was slipping. It was the day before the race, all three of the new cars were in trouble, there was nothing for it but to work all night; fortunately, the shed in the little paddock had electric light. We worked nearly all night, stopped the leak with bran, strengthened the clutch springs all we could, and since the car could not be tried on the track, tested the clutch by jumping hard on the starting handle with the engine in gear.
   There was only one redeeming feature in the situation. Most other people were in trouble too, as tinkering noises and profanity amply proved in shed after shed; but away on the Byfleet side silence and contentment reigned where the three Talbot-Darraqs were housed.
   That night, quite rightly driven away by Weller, the drivers had a few hours' troubled sleep, the mechanics none at all, and the next morning, as the crowds invaded the paddock and enclosures, we were still unready, or at least my car was, for we got the last bolt into the bracket holding the exhaust pipe under the supervision of no less a person than S. F. Edge, just as the cars were marshalled to go up to the start.

[jonto]

Stead on one of the two side valve cars, based on the production Anzani engined model.

[jonto]

The start was extremely exciting. The competing machines were arranged in three lines, with the 1,100 c.c. Cars in front. At the fall of the flag the first line went away, the second took its place and was immediately dispatched, the third line conformed to the movement until it, to, went away. Consequently, a mass of cars shot away in clouds of smoke, two other lines moved a length, then stopped; a fractional and another mass roared off, the third line moved a length and stopped; then, with barely a pause, they too dashed away. It was entirely successful and extremely dangerous.
   Waiting in the second line, half asphyxiated by fumes and blinded by clouds of smoke, I was considering what would happen if the man in front had reverse instead of first in mesh, wondering also whether our new set of racing plugs could possibly stand all this without oiling. Immense volumes of smoke and a terrible noise showed me that the first line was off, we moved up one, I could just see Ebblewhite's red flag, it dropped, an avalanche of cars went off, we did not; with the engine screaming, we remained stationary- the clutch was playing the fool! I switched off , and pulled at the rear tyre my side to turn the wheel, the car crept away, I switched on, opened up gently, and lo, we had started; but the cold fury of that moment remains, and the fear that we should be rammed by the third wave.
   Then for three laps, all went well, in and out among cars of all sizes, some already in trouble, some doing their best, and for the space of one lap we clung to the tail of a Talbot-Darracq, I think it was “Bill” Guinness' car!