Championing Equality, 70s Style

The ‘70s began for Porsche as troubled times.  No more so than in the United States, where the first two years of the decade were characterised in broad economic terms by recession and by price-based consumer resistance as far as the Porsche marque was concerned.  Not only was this very undermining of the company’s American retail operations, but it also forced a scaling back of production in Zuffenhausen.  The unsettling effects were compounded by change and uncertainty brought about by renewal of the company’s management, a process to do as much with the emergence of younger members of the Porsche and Piëch families keen to make their mark, as with the confrontation with harder times and reduced profitability.  Perhaps unexpectedly, the situation was resolved by a deliberate programme of divestment of key roles such that a much more diverse range of skills, expertise and knowledge came to exist in the Porsche management team.  Especially notable was a re-appointment of Ernst Fuhrmann as head of Porsche’s technical functions.  Backed up by Helmuth Bott taking care of engineering development, Fuhrmann was in a position to assert the supremacy of key product values centred on engineering excellence, quality/durability and class-leading performance.  Meanwhile, a wide-ranging cultural/commercial outlook was established through Butzi Porsche’s creation of the Porsche Design company.  By the end of ’72, all the change was enough to warrant redefinition of the company as an Aktiengesellscaft, ‘public’ enterprise.

As for the products, there was for some time a stalling of development of the 911 model while attention was diverted to study of proposals for a larger, four seat Porsche.  Also diluting attention to the core-product, was work on a new transaxle and studies challenging the basic configuration of the engine/transmission within the chassis.  Meanwhile, complying with the basic design of the 911, it’s competition model, designated 911S, began the new decade with increasing engine capacities - taking them from the initial 2.0 to 2.2 litres, and then to 2.4 litres.  Performance was further enhanced by programmes of chassis/body lightening and homologation of the components involved.  In ’70 the company signalled its interest in promoting the marque’s competition profile, introducing The Porsche Cup.  For ’72, an American buyer could be tempted by a new 2341 cc 911S with 190 bhp and 154 lb-ft torque, (both DIN).  But this was a prelude as confidence returned – both within Porsche and to the wider economy – to the much more vigorous 911s which were under development, the model type having regained its due focus.

The Porsche Cup was something of special interest to one particular American – Roger Penske.  Ohio-born Penske had shown entrepreneurial talent alongside a competitive spirit since an early age, initially buying and selling cars while also racing them.  As the Sixties progressed, so too did Penske’s business career, adding interests in transportation and associated industries,  while his racing expertise also developed to the extent that he achieved professional driver status.  Though he hung up his helmet mid-decade in order to concentrate on corporate auto retailing, he maintained an interest in motorsport, forming and running ‘Penske Racing.’  The team was soon operating very competitively, marking its mark in the Can-Am in ’66, stepping up to the Indycar series in ’68 and tackling Trans-Am the following year.  At this time, much as Penske himself was propelling the team forward, his lead driver, Mark Donohue, was hugely instrumental in its successes by virtue of his at-the-wheel expertise, backed by a significant understanding of the cars’ technical aspects and an exceptional facility with the engineering involved.  Donohue was highly capable with a wide range of types of car, but he was always especially happy to take to the track in a Porsche.  Thus, when Penske began to talk to him about the idea of an International Race of Champions (IROC), Donohue was quick to suggest that the best car for the series would be a Porsche 911, such was the performance and durability of the model.  Donohue didn’t have to push too hard because Penske had become a real Porsche aficionado, racing one in SCCA events in the late Fifties, supported by Porsche factory-trained Austrian, Karl Kainhofer.  Kainhofer was employed when Penske Racing was established and stayed there for a remarkable 30 years, mainly functioning as the team’s engine guru.

Roger Penske in a Porsche 718 RS, 1960  Courtesy Mark Dill

Roger Penske, left, with Mark Donohue

By early ’73 Porsche had homologated 500 911 Carrera RS Group 4 cars.  At the Daytona circuit in February ’73 the 24 Hours race was hard fought between the Carrera RSRs of the Brumos and the Penske teams.  Given the capabilities of the prototype cars expected to take overall victory, the fact that the RSRs battled for the lead was in itself quite remarkable.  Nevertheless, the Brumos car, driven by Peter Gregg and Hurley Haywood won by no less than 15 laps.  The Penske car did not finish, a piston failure to blame.  However, it was Penske who within the year would be the instigator for one of the most distinctive Porsche racing models of all time – the IROC 3.0 911 Carrera RSR.

Brumos 911 heads Penske’s, Daytona, ‘73  Courtesy Lou Galanos

The concept of a motorsport Race of Champions was initiated by David Lockton.  Lockton had in the mid-Sixties extended his career in TV production by establishing the sport/media agency, Sports Headliners.  Where others had failed, Lockton succeeded in creating a brand new motorsport venue in California – the Ontario Motor Speedway, inaugurated in August ’70.  There was initial success, including the staging of a non-championship F1 race (the Questor Grand Prix) ) at the venue.  However, a great deal of debt was also incurred and the following year Lockton walked away from the enterprise. 

During his involvement at the Ontario Motor Speedway, Lockton’s colleagues had included Les Richter, a well-known NFL player, who, after his football career, became involved in motorsport governance, along with Roger Penske.  Richter and Penske were encouraged by a TV producer, Mike Phelps, to develop Lockton’s Race of Champions idea.  A management board was set up with Richter acting as its chairman while Penske spearheaded activities to convert the concept into a reality.  Having determined that the competition should involve twelve top-line drivers, a format of three qualifying races/heats and a ‘final’ was devised.  The drivers invited to compete were, from the U.S. Bobby Unser, A J Foyt, Richard Petty, Mark Donohue, George Follmer, Roger McCluskey, David Pearson, Gordon Johncock, Peter Revson and Bobby Allison.  The field was completed by New Zealand’s Denis Hulme and the Brazilian, Emerson Fittipaldi.

The 12 Champions  Courtesy Douglas Dempsey

Given the high quality of the driving contingent, a substantial prize fund of $175,000 was established.  Somewhat unusually, it was determined that the driver taking the largest share of the fund would be declared series champion whether or not they were the winner of the Daytona final. 

With so much going on over a range of car types/race series, Penske recognised the need for the IROC to be managed with proper focus.  To this end he hired Jay Signore to manage the activity as a carefully defined project.  Valued for his technical expertise by Donohue since ’59 when they were racing Elvas, Signore also had good organisational ability – as too did his wife, who was also drafted in to strengthen Penske Racing’s management team.  Signore enlisted Al Holbert to relieve Donohue of some of the initial testing of two Zuffenhausen-supplied evaluation 911s in order to confirm the sort of detail specification/upgrades required, in consultation with Don Cox, acting as Chief Engineer.  As an outcome, the Penske Racing’s call was for an evolution of the milestone ’73 Carrera, embodying a version which was as much an exercise in body lightening as it was in terms of increased engine power.  With all ‘unnecessary’ interior trim/equipment removed, fibreglass engine deck lid, front trunk panel, front bumper/air dam, rear bumper/spoiler, extra-width rear wheel arches and Perspex side windows, a kerb weight of around 900 Kg was achieved, whereas the fifty to sixty units made for road car sales were some 30-60 Kg heavier, and a ‘standard’ 2.7 Carrera weighed in at 1075 Kg.  Such a 2.7 911 was a quick car at that weight and with an engine generating 210 bhp.  Its performance was however eclipsed by the RSR’s 330 bhp, (and a peak torque measure of 232 ft lbs).  Running with a compression ratio of 10.5:1, the 2996 cc engine was fuel-injected with a Bosch mechanical pump system featuring high positioned butterfly throttle bodies.  There were two spark plugs per cylinder.

RSR engine (6840026) in chassis #4600124  Courtesy Ottis & Co LLC

There were several complementary chassis upgrades too, including spinner-secured wheels and brake discs/calipers as specified for the 917.  Though not officially confirmed, the price paid per car by Penske was around $25,000.  By comparison, at that time the retail price of a 2.7 Carrera was just a little under $13,000.  The deal was for 15 cars – 12 for each race and 3 more for practice, (and as spares/hacks).  The race cars were not run in practice in order to avoid any suffering any wear/damage deleterious to their performance and therefore disadvantaging an individual driver.  In response, Porsche built the cars as listed below:

Chassis #	Engine #	Colour
911 4600016	6840021	Yellow
911 4600025	6840022	Grand Prix White
911 4600035	6840024	Gulf Blue
911 4600037	6840027	Green
911 4600040	6840023	Light Green
911 4600042	6840025	Orange
911 4600050	6840028	Aubergine
911 4600059	6840029	Acid Blue
911 4600075	6840033	Mexican Blue
911 4600085	6840035	Red
911 4600090	6840031	Orange
911 4600100	6840034	Yellow
911 4600111	6840033	Strawberry Pink
911 4600116	6840032	Carmen Red
911 4600124	6840026	Black

12 of the RSRs at Werke 1, Zuffenhausen, prior to shipping

The cars were race-prepared at Penske’s workshop, which was originally to be found in Newtown Square, PA.  However, it was relocated during the course of ‘73 to Reading, North West of Pennsylvania, where, in an opportunist move typical of Roger, devastation caused the previous year by a hurricane had enabled him to acquire land at a discounted price.  (In 2006 a rainstorm precipitated the demise of the site, bringing forward a further relocation, this time to the teams’ Endurance/NASCAR base at Mooresville, North Carolina). 

The allocation of cars to drivers was made ‘draw from a hat’ style.  While every effort was made in the Penske workshop to ensure that all the cars would have as near-as-possible identical performance, equal opportunity for all the drivers was further sought by the adoption of a rotation scheme , as follows: heat 1 winning driver to be allocated for heat 2 the car finished 12^th in heat 1; heat 1 driver finishing 2^nd to be allocated for heat 2 the car finished 11^th in heat 1, and so on.  Both heat 2 and 3 were started with a reverse grid formation.  Despite the care taken to equalise the drivers’ chances, once they were hands-on with the cars and able to talk together, resentments began to be expressed by some in regard to Donohue.  As per the title of his autobiography, (ghosted by Paul Van Vulkenburgh), The Unfair Advantage, there was a view that he had a more complete knowledge/understanding of the RSR car as a result of his involvement alongside Penske from the earliest days of the project.  Indeed, he has been quoted as saying of the RSR at the time, ‘Without a doubt the very best off the shelf production race car available at any price.’  On the other hand, several of his competitors found the car difficult to master.  Bobby Unser was reported as having said that none of the others found the RSR enjoyable to drive and suiting their own particular driving style. 

With Richter the president of Riverside International Raceway, (east of Los Angeles), it was planned, unsurprisingly, to run the three qualifying events, each over 30 laps, at that circuit, with the final to be held at Daytona International Speedway (Florida).

Riverside IROC poster

The first and second heats were scheduled for 27^th October.  Fittipaldi qualified fastest, with Follmer second, but both were penalised for not attending a briefing on time, leaving Donohue as the pole-sitter.  He made good use of that, leading the race from start to finish.  The top six were: Donohue, Unser, Revson, Follmer, Hulme Foyt.  Pearson, Johncock, Allison and Fittipaldi all failed to finish or did not complete the race distance.

Donohue leads the field in the first heat, Riverside

Follmer took a notable victory in the second heat, driving through the field from a 9^th place start to the lead, followed home by Pearson and Fittipaldi, (who had started on pole).

Revson at speed in the second heat, Riverside

Although he had retired from the second race with a throttle problem, Donohue was once again victorious in the third heat run on the 28^th.  As in the first heat, Donohue started on pole and maintained his lead for all of the race’s duration.  Completing the top six were, Unser, Fittipaldi, Pearson, Follmer and Foyt.  Both Petty and Johncock failed to finish because of throttle linkage problems, the same issue which affected Donohue in heat two.  Otherwise, over the three heats, retirements were mainly the result of accidents and there was just one engine failure – for Allison in the third heat.

Fittipaldi, running third in heat 3, Riverside

 

The cars went back to Pennsylvania where seven were given a pre-sale service and offered for purchase, the asking price being $21,500 each.  The remainder were subject to detailed assessment/re-preparation while the drivetrains went to Weissach for repairs/overhaul.  All the engines were run on the dyno, average peak power being reported as 316 bhp.  They were returned to the U.S. in January ’74.  The priority then became testing on the Daytona circuit with its characteristics being quite unlike those of Riverside.  Although Donohue got involved with the testing, most of it was carried out by Peter Gregg and Al Holbert.  The main conclusions reached were that uprated shock absorbers were required and rear spoiler extensions desirable, given the aerodynamic/speed potential aspects of the Daytona circuit.

Daytona IROC poster

The six drivers qualifying to run in the 25 laps final at Daytona, 14^th February ’74, were, by virtue of their results in the three Riverside heats, Follmer, Unser, Donohue , Revson, Pearson, and Foyt.  Practice and qualifying took place on the 11^th, resulting in the grid order, Donohue, Revson, Pearson, Follmer, Unser and Foyt.

 

Follmer had impressed in the heats and was in confident mood in Florida.  This was confirmed by his start, which was assertive and served to enable him to pass the three cars which had qualified faster, and he led for the first two laps.  Less fortunate in a hectic opening to the race were Foyt and Pearson who suffered engine failure and gearbox trouble respectively.  But Donohue had meanwhile built momentum and got past Follmer.  They then ran in close company while pulling out a growing gap to Revson and Unser in third and fourth, with Pearson struggling further back with his hobbled transmission.  But Follmer eventually lost ground and at half distance experienced a dropped valve after fluffing a gear shift.  His retirement left Donohue with an uncomplicated path to victory, with Revson finishing 2^nd, Unser 3^rd and Pearson 4^th.

The table below shows the standings for the series on completion:

Position	Driver
1	Mark Donohue
2	Peter Revson
3	Bobby Unser
4	David Pearson
5	George Follmer
6	A.J. Foyt
7	Emmerson Fittipaldi
8	Denny Hulme
9	Bobby Allison
10	Richard Petty
11	Gordon Johncock
12	Roger McCluskey

The top three’s winnings were, Donohue: $54,000; Revson: $21,200; Unser: $19,100.  The outcome was especially satisfying for Donohue as he had decided that – whatever the result – this would be the very last event in which he would compete as a professional driver.  Particularly in that era, to retire at their peak was one of the things drivers found hardest to do.  Donohue, however, had the prospect of ongoing involvement in the sport at the elite level with the Penske organisation.  Equally, because of his engineering ability and Penske’s confidence in that, there was no danger of his being at a loose end, struggling to find something to occupy his time.  That was assured by Penske’s decision to appoint Donohue as Team Penske’s Racing Director.  But as Donohue thought he was himself stepping backward in ’74, Penske’s Team Manager, Heinz Hofer, was looking to move markedly forwards.  He had successfully pitched a plan to Penske to launch a Formula One programme and by September ’74 the team’s PC1 car was ready for its race debut at the Canadian Grand Prix.  And at the wheel? . . . Mark Donohue.  The lure of the ultimate motorsport category had been too great for Donohue to resist.  Until the following July, he raced the PC1 in 10 more Grands Prix, with a best finish of 5^th in Sweden.  But, as from the British Grand Prix, a switch was made to a March 751.  With this, Donohue scored another 5^th place at Silverstone, followed by a DNF at the Nurburgring.  The next event was in mid-August, at the Österreichring.  During the warm-up on race morning, one of the 751’s front tyres blew out as Donohue went into the right hand bend following the main straight.  The car left the circuit and crashed heavily, Donohue sustaining a head injury, while marshals and bystanders also were hurt, (one fatally), by the car and debris.  Despite every effort by the doctors at the Graz hospital, a clot on Donohue’s brain caused his death on the 19^th August.

Mark Donohue with the IROC trophy

Of the 15 cars ordered by Penske for the IROC, at least six have been offered for sale in relatively recent times.  Mostly these are vehicles which have been expertly maintained and generally well cared for.  With their rarity, performance capability and historic provenance, it is not surprising that in the contemporary market, these are $2,000,000 motor cars.  For example, #4600100 was offered by RM Sotheby’s in 2021 with an estimate of $1,800,000 - $2,100,000.  This is the car in which Fittipaldi was the fastest qualifier in the first Riverside heat.  It became especially well-known as it was for a time owned by Pablo Escobar, notorious Columbian drug trade criminal.  Also, its bodywork was quite radically modified.  It was however, restored and returned to original specification in 2010.  A full description and excellent suite of photographs can be found here.

#4600100  Courtesy RM Sotheby’s 

Also recently well documented is #4600124.  The photographs of this RSR posted on https://www.otsandco.com/project/1974-porsche-911-rsr-iroc are especially valuable for anyone looking for detail views in order to understand/verify the specification.  All parts of the vehicle, both the exterior and the interior, can be seen with excellent clarity.

#4600124  Courtesy Ottis & Co LLC

This was the last of the batch in chassis number terms.  It was finished in black, given race number 4 and allocated to George Follmer for the second Riverside race.  Subsequently, as #12, it was driven in the third race by Donohue.  It was the winning car in both these events, but did not run at Daytona.  Al Holbert bought it and raced it with some success in ’74, but rolled it late in the year, resulting in it being out of commission until 2008, when it was restored and returned to race-ready condition.

Seen below are all 15 of the IROC 3.0 RSRs:

The ‘73/’74 IROC was considered a success and a repeat series was formulated for ’75.  However, largely driven by the cost of the 911 RSRs and their maintenance, the ’75 series was run with Chevrolet Camaros.  The event was then repeated annually through to 2006, with a short break in the early Eighties.

There Were Four Thousand In Blackburn - The T260 Had Just 207

1971 was a very significant year.  From a personal perspective, I started my automotive career-proper at BMW, while, much more significantly, the BRM P160 proved highly competitive in Formula 1, LPs of great quality were released, such as Sticky Fingers, Who’s Next and Tapestry, there was the announcement of cars like the Alfasud, Maserati Bora and BMW 2002 Tii, and . . . hope sprung of a new dawn in the Cam-Am Challenge, with the addition to the grid of the Lola T260 and its driver, Sir Jackie Stewart.

BRM at Monza, September 1971

A Lola T70 Mk.2 in the hands of John Surtees had won the inaugural Can-Am Challenge in ’66.  However, since then, the M8 McLaren in its various iterations had steam-rollered the opposition, firstly as the Bruce and Denny Show (Bruce McLaren and Denny Hulme), then with Peter Revson partnering Hulme after McLaren’s death in 1970.  At the time, many of us resented the McLaren ‘win machine’ as the cause of the Group 7 series becoming boring because of repetitive, predictable results.

The Bruce (#4) & Denny (#5) Show, Laguna Seca, 1969. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

One of the very few series rivals to get anywhere near bothering the McLaren juggernaut was the Chaparral team of the innovatory Texan, Jim Hall.  Not content with seeking ultimate competitiveness from high downforce aerodynamics by mounting a tall rear wing on his 2E machine during the ’66 season, he surprised everyone four years later with his 2J – a car that achieved even more powerful ground effects by mechanically sucking air out from under its floor.  This was facilitated by a pair of rear-mounted fans and thus anticipated the similar solution devised by Gordon Murray for the Formula 1 Brabham BT 46B of 1978.  Not unexpected really, as his high wing concept had also found its way into Grand Prix racing during the 1969 season.  The 2J ran in only six Can-Am races in 1970, driven in the second of these – Watkins Glen – by the reigning F1 World Champion, Jackie Stewart.  In that first year of the new decade, Jackie was feeling the dispiriting effects of the deaths of several fellow drivers accumulated over the later years of the 1960s, and, ironically, persistent criticism of him about his safety campaigning.  Unsurprisingly, his enthusiasm for his profession was waning.  However, the revolutionary nature of the 2J was enough to revive his interest.  In his autobiography, Winning is Not Enough, he says: As we were discussing what to do about the Nurburgring, (its dangerous aspects) I was called away to take a telephone call from America.  It was Jim Hall, inviting me to drive the Chaparral in a sports car event, and, even in the middle of all that, I found myself getting as excited about the prospect of being behind the wheel of such a special car as I had at any stage of my life.  I instantly accepted his offer because the Chaparral was known as the most advanced racing car of its time.  Although his race at Watkins Glen ended in a retirement, the experience seems to have had a positive effect, for it was not too long before it was revealed that Stewart had reached agreement with Carl Haas to drive the new Lola 260T in a full 1971 Can-Am campaign.  Jackie was frank in the autobiography: The F1 season was my priority, but Cam-Am offered a second income stream that was hard to resist.

Jackie Stewart in the Chaparral 2J, Watkins Glen, 1970. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

Haas was a classic mid-century American automotive entrepreneur.  A Jewish immigrant to the ‘States just before WW2, he ran cars in several race series, including NASCAR, F5000, F1 and Indy/Champcar in addition to Can-Am, eventually becoming best known for his association with Hollywood’s Paul Newman and the formation of Newman/Haas/Lanigan Racing.  In the late sixties he contracted with Eric Broadley to act as the U.S. importer of Lola racing cars and developed the business to a highly successful level.  Broadley was happy to allow Haas to function as a works team and the American used his commercial nous to secure supportive sponsorship from cigarette makers, L & M.  Whilst Lolas had been a familiar part of the Can-Am scene in the late sixties, they had been relatively conventional and not front-of-the-grid competitive.  With such characteristics persisting in the new decade’s opening season’s Lolas – the T220 and T222 – Haas used all his powers of persuasion to convince Broadly that a more daring new design was essential if the perception of the Lola brand was not to be devalued because of lack-lustre results.

Left: Carl Haas at his business premises at Lincolnshire, Illinois. (Courtesy Racemaker/David Huson). 

Right: Haas with Eric Broadley, founder of Lola.  (Courtesy JKRacing50)

Broadley acceded to Haas’s entreaties and briefed his designer, Bob Marston.  He also sought input regarding bodywork from his associate, Peter Jackson, (and body engineer Peter Wright), at the expert glass fibre fabrication firm, Specialised Mouldings.  Broadley wanted a basically wedge shaped, compact form, with a relatively small overall footprint – he was keen for instance to avoid the substantial front end overhang seen on the McLarens.  But since the wedge format could, as had been seen with the Autocoast Ti-22 at Mont Tremblant in 1970, be prone to end-over-end loss of control incidents, the main aerodynamic emphasis was on the avoidance of front end lift, coupled with maximum possible downforce on the rear axle.  The latter was sought without any particular focus on the rear body surfaces but by simply using a large wing – not especially high mounted, but full width and located unusually far forward, most of its surface in front of the rear axle.  An additional distinctive bodywork feature was the presence of 207 small holes in the upper surface between the windscreen base and the front brake air duct openings.  These were for the purpose of releasing air that otherwise would cause a build-up of high pressure, and thus lift, underneath the front end of the monocoque floor.  The nose incorporated a depth-variable front splitter. 

Otherwise, the T260 was largely ‘state of the art’ for the time, featuring an aluminium monocoque, side mounted radiators, horizontal mounted, rocker arm actuated front springs and inboard brake discs, front and rear.  A relative novelty was the specification of 13” front wheels. The engine was a Foltz-built 8.1 litre big block Chevrolet V8 mated to a Hewland Mk.2 four speed transmission.  Output at 7,000 rpm was commonly quoted as being 700-760 bhp and 600+ lb-ft torque.  Foltz offered some options regarding the amount and spread of torque generated in order to make easier the evaluation of the car’s handling during the early stages of development. 

At the time, Frank Gardner – mostly known for his F5000 and saloon car exploits – was Lola’s test and development driver.  He was able to take the T260 out on track, (at Silverstone), for the first time in May 1971.  With the first round of the Can-Am due at Mosport in Canada in mid-June, scope was limited.  Gardner was quick to express his concern about this because it was immediately apparent that the car inherently understeered, and a ‘cure’ would likely require a considerable number of testing miles.

Gardner testing the T260 at Silverstone, May 1971.

Note especially the 13” front wheels and forward position of the wing. (Courtesy Motor Sport)

Stewart for his part encountered the car at Silverstone at the beginning of June.  The weather was against him – heavy rain – and his initial impressions are not recorded.  He had however already prevailed upon Broadley to make a significant change.  Ten months previously Jochen Rindt’s accident at Monza in the Lotus 72 still weighed heavily on the World Champion’s mind.  Not only were the Stewart and Rindt families very good friends, but Jackie was especially close to Jochen, considering the Austrian his principal rival on-track.  Though the sudden, violent sharp left hand swerve into the Parabolica armco was not per se the cause of Rindt’s death – that was attributable to his belts not being properly secured – Stewart was highly sceptical about the advisability of running inboard front brakes, given the possible consequences of a shaft failure.  Broadley had no alternative but to agree that the front brake discs be moved outboard.  At the same time, a similar revision was effected at the rear, since the limited testing so far completed had revealed problems with heat not being dissipated sufficiently from the discs.  And there was a knock-on from this.  To accommodate the relocated discs, larger diameter – 15” - front wheel rims were required – along with an enlargement of the leading curve of the wheel arch.

Stewart with the T260 at Silverstone, June 1971. (Courtesy Sutton Images)

We do know that Stewart at last had the chance to drive the T260 in unconstrained circumstances at the Mosport circuit on 10^th June.  His perception of the car’s handling characteristics – not helped by the bumpy nature of the track – were summed up by his apparent likening of the machine to a ‘pregnant elephant!’  The following day he was nevertheless able to set the day’s fastest time and this proved to be good enough for pole position when the Saturday session became rain affected.  Next day, at the opening round of the Can-Am season, he led the race from Hulme’s M8F, but retired just short of quarter distance because of a failed transmission seal.  The McLaren team had had a scare, but Hulme took the victory and the marque’s cars filled places 1-6 in the race results table.

Stewart’s T260 at Mosport, June 1971. The bigger front wheels and related re-profiled front wheel arch are evident. (Courtesy Jerry Bendl Collection)

Two weeks later, Round 2 of the Can-Am series was scheduled for Mont Tremblant.  Like Mosport, this was circuit notorious for its uneven track surface.  Stewart however was hoping for a better ride from the T260 as some additional changes had been made after the Mosport event.  The rear suspension geometry had been revised and the wing relocated a little further to the rear of the car.  But in practice and qualifying the car still proved to be hard work.  Stewart nevertheless managed to qualify the T260 2^nd, just three tenths slower than Hulme’s pole time and 1.8 seconds better than Peter Revson’s 3^rd place time in the second M8F.  Though Hulme maintained a lead for much of the race, he didn’t really get away from the Lola and when he flagged in the latter stages, Stewart was able to get past and take his car through to its maiden victory.

Stewart closes in on Hulme at Mont Tremblant, June 1971

Road Atlanta hosted Round 3 in mid-July.  Stewart qualified 3^rd, a full second off Hulme’s pole time.  The race was a mixed bag for the Lola – Stewart hustled it enough to record the race’s fastest lap, and moved up past Hulme and Revson into the lead.  However, the T260 then suffered a rear tyre puncture and the pit stop to fix this became prolonged when the engine cut and didn’t want to restart.  Although running at the finish, the car was several laps down having also developed a rear damper failure – a disappointing outcome as it had clearly had the beating of the McLarens on track. 

Stewart and the T260 were quickest at Road Atlanta until a tyre punctured. (Courtesy Autosports Marketing Associates)

A fortnight on, the Can-Am circus reconvened at Watkins Glen.  Perhaps helped by his familiarity with the Glen from his Grand Prix drives there, (as was the case too at Mosport, and, to a lesser extent, Mont Tremblant), Stewart put on another strong qualifying show, just pipping Revson and Hulme to the pole.  Next day he held a comfortable lead until a little past the halfway point, when a driveshaft failure intervened and forced retirement of the car.

Stewart enjoys a clear lead over the McLarens at Watkins Glen. (Courtesy Motor Sport Images)

Round 5 must have felt like ‘back to square one’ – the Mid Ohio circuit, like the opening, Canadian, rounds’ venues was something of a car breaker, being notable bumpy.  In qualifying the McLarens handled this better than the Lola – Hulme’s pole time was nearly a second quicker than Stewart’s 3^rd place lap.  But it was fortunate that the T260 was not further down the grid as it had been afflicted with multiple suspension failures during practice.  The confidence evident in Stewart’s demeanour at the Glen was also undermined by his perception of Mid Ohio as a particularly dangerous track with limited run-off areas and a host of trackside hazards.  He was forthright on Sunday morning in saying how dissatisfied he was with the place and that he didn’t intend to run at anything like his or the car’s full performance potential.  Thus it seemed somewhat paradoxical that following the demise of both the M8Fs with driveshaft failures, Stewart was able to chalk up his second victory of the season.

The T260 at Mid Ohio – note how much further back the wing is by now mounted. (Courtesy Niagara Pauls Blogspot)

In late August the second half of the series opened with the 6^th Round at Road America, (Elkhart Lake).  With the Mid Ohio win serving to re-boost confidence and signs that the long-established McLaren superiority might be faltering with reliability issues, there was good reason to expect that Stewart would be hunting Hulme and Revson down for the points table lead.  As an added positive, the Haas team was also keen to be more adventurous in its efforts to improve the car’s handling and aerodynamic behaviour – the chronic understeer still being a real issue for Stewart.  Thus, the car appeared at the Wisconsin circuit with a fully reworked rear end – an even larger-surface (and higher incidence) rear wing, with substantial end plates integrated with the rear quarter panel sides.  This was combined with a new ‘shovel’ form spoiler running across the bottom edge of the nose.

The new rear wing and front spoiler at Road America. (Courtesy Jim Buell)

Practice and qualifying threw up some surprises.  Whilst Hulme secured the pole with a time 2 seconds quicker than his nearest challenger, that competitor wasn’t teammate Revson – or even Stewart.  Finally coming good was the controversial Shadow Mk.2 of Jackie Oliver.  Stewart was 3^rd, but apparently hampered by a lack of power.  The team bit the bullet and changed the engine for the race, but this overheated and failed after just 10 laps.  So it was an unsatisfying end to the weekend with uncertainties remaining, especially in regard to the car’s aerodynamics, the original rear wing form having been reinstated and no conclusions reached about the persistent understeer.  Broadley was struggling to understand cause and effect, though he had demonstrated his perspicacity in wondering how well the body surface holes were relieving under-floor pressure when the gauze covering of many of them was clogged with paint required for the L & M livery!  One could not help but wonder if the car was founded on an aerodynamic theory full of holes.

 

With five Grand Prix wins up to August 1^st, Stewart was assured of his second World Championship by the time of Round 7 of the Can-Am at Donnybrooke.  He was no doubt philosophic about the contrast between his successes and confidence in his Tyrrell and his results with the Lola, to say nothing of how little he’d been enjoying driving the Group 7 car.  The team would have hoped to have had him smiling a little more by effecting some rear suspension upgrades following the Road America event.  But hope was outdone by reality in this instance – the McLarens seemed to be getting better after the mid-season frailties, whereas the Lola’s handling continued to tax Stewart’s patience.  With no improvement clearly obvious from the revisions tried at Road America, the rear wing form reverted to the original format.  As was becoming the pattern, Stewart was 3^rd in qualifying, not especially close to the times of Hulme and Revson.  Nonetheless, the Lola got off the line well and headed the M8Fs initially until Revson went past for the lead.  Stewart was able to hold Hulme behind him, but various troubles led to pit stops that hampered Stewart’s progress to the extent that he could finish no better than 6^th.

Stewart stays 2nd  in front of Hulme at Donnybrooke. (Courtesy Tim Winker)

Late September saw the Can-Am back in Canada, at Edmonton for Round 8.  There was a further revised, tacked-on ‘shovel’  panel in place to give the nose a more scoop-like profile and almost all of the rear wing depth was now behind the back edge of the rear panel.  The effectiveness of these changes was difficult to judge in the track conditions and Stewart’s qualifying performance could once again not achieve anything better than 3^rd.  In the race, his ultra-smooth skills enabled him to take and maintain the lead on a wet circuit.  Eventually, however, he had an off, and this apparently caused some damage, as the T260’s handling was subsequently less manageable.  It nevertheless remained one of the car’s better days, as Stewart was able to run to the finish headed only by Hulme’s McLaren.

On the grid at Edmonton – note the revised front end and the extreme rear location of the wing. (Courtesy TheRoaringSeason)

Laguna Seca was the location for the penultimate round.  Despite Stewart’s big and unsalvageable points deficit vis-a-vis the McLarens, effort was ongoing to try and give him a car which could match his other-worldly driving expertise.  This time there was some astonishment when it was seen that the front of the car was no longer just being augmented with a relatively small re-profiler – it now had a substantial tubular structure projecting forward of the nose, supporting a large, full-width aerofoil which was promptly nicknamed, ‘The Cowcatcher.’  The rear wing remained distinctly rearward of the back panel and run at a steeper angle of attack than as seen at Edmonton.  The T260 had begun the season as the ultimate ‘stubbie’ but now boasted an exceptionally long footprint.

New wings, front and rear, at Laguna Seca. (Courtesy TheRoaringSeason)

In qualifying, Stewart was within a second of Revson and Hulme, the former taking pole.  However, the Lola was 4^th on the grid as the Mk.2 Autocoast Ti22 was three tenths quicker in the hands of David Hobbs.  The Ti had less race pace and was soon displaced on the Sunday by Stewart who further progressed by passing Hulme for 2^nd.  Revson struggled with an ailing engine to finish the race but hung on to take the win.  There was some post-race confusion as it was contended by the Haas team that Revson should have been black flagged and the race awarded to the Lola.  However, Revson’s victory was subsequently upheld, so Stewart had to be content with 2^nd – itself by no means a bad result.

Though looking unwieldy with its front and rear ‘extensions,’ Stewart was able in the T260 to outpace Hulme’s M8F at Laguna Seca. (unattributed, via Bonhams)

The teams were at Riverside at the end of October to close out the Cam-Am series.  The T260 made its way to its customary 3^rd fastest in qualifying.  Stewart took it past Revson and settled into a secure but lonely 2^nd place until the engine failed with 3/5 of the race run.

Final aerodynamic tweak for the T260 is substantial end plates for the rear wing. (Courtesy Lola Heritage)

On face value, the final series points table for the top three suggested ‘business as usual’ for McLaren.  However, Stewart and the T260 had provided the most substantial challenge for a very long time to the dominance of the M8s.

Although there was never any prospect of Stewart committing to another season with Haas, it’s reasonable to suppose that with a winter of development and a new, ambitious driver, the wins tally could have been considerably greater than just two in 1972.  However, the obdurate handling problems of the T260 had taken their toll.  For Lola, the attraction of a new start became irresistible, and thus Broadley laid down a brief for the T310 – a Can-Am car that was long and wide and looking not at all related to its short and stubby, highly characterful, predecessor.  But I have to leave the last word to Sir Jackie: I enjoyed working with Carl Haas in 1971, but the car had been a dog to drive . . .