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Posts from the ‘Motor Sport’ Category

A target date

A recent post on northumbrian : light indicates a target publication date of April 2014 – I am into the third round of editing before finalising the page count which, in turn, determines the spine thickness. Once I know this, it will be time to complete the cover design. By degrees, it is getting closer to being complete.  The northumbrian : light post featured some text from the book and this image of my grandfather, standing on Egyptian sands as the distinctive smell of burnt castor oil fills the air.

Ron Howard’s Rush

This is the week I finally got to see the much anticipated movie Rush by Ron Howard. For dramatic purposes it plays fast and loose with history but there is no denying its entertainment value.  Motor Racing from this time is one of the ‘sub-plots’ within Golf in the Wild.  By strange coincidence my racing journey ends almost exactly at the point Ron Howard chooses to start the Lauda/Hunt F1 story – with the death of Francois Cevert at Watkins Glen (although he is not named in the film).  In reality Lauda’s F1 career started long before – this photograph is from the British Grand Prix of 1972 when he was driving for March (another paid drive).

A journey about speed

It is not difficult to imagine a Lola T70 Mk III let loose on this Northumberland tarmac, threading the needle’s eye at 180mph, a Chevrolet V-8 thundering towards the northern light.  This was a car I sketched on the cover of many a school exercise book, the perfect shape, the perfect mid-engined configuration, radiator to the front, the engine in front of the rear wheel line, two seats in the middle.  There are many other examples from the same era; powerful, fragile cars offering minimal protection to the fearsome professional race drivers of the late 1960s.  The version in the picture was driven by New Zealander, Paul Hawkins, approaching Lodge Corner at Oulton Park on a very wet afternoon, in practice for the RAC Tourist Trophy, May 25th 1969.  I stood happy in the rain, clicked my Dad’s 35mm Werra camera and captured the monster, nose-dipped under braking, hunting a dry line.