Renowned for its massive and powerful sporting cars, Bentley Motors Limited had immediate competition success as well as a dashing image, thanks to a group of wealthy owners who came to be known as “The Bentley Boys”. Most had served in the Great War and all raced their cars with warrior spirit; the marque claimed five LeMans victories from 1924-1930 including a "Hat Trick" .
Author Peter Grimsdale has written a marvelous account of Bentley's early history in his book "Racing In The Dark: How the Bentley Boys Conquered LeMans".
Grimsdale recognized it's a story transcends the car enthusiast circles.
Walter Owen Bentley's quest for speed and reliability was born from his days as a railway apprentice, his experiences in World War I and the siren song of the motorized age. He cultivated a tight knit band of like-minded fellows (and one enthusiastic heiress, Dorothy Wyndham Paget) who put their money and muscle into racing his cars at LeMans, the TT and elsewhere.
Bentley's world-class quality and competition prowess couldn't save it from the ravages of The Great Depression, but the legend endures a century on. Peter Grimsdale's book is a delight and you can hear his insights in Episode 82 of Horsepower Heritage, available now wherever you get your podcasts.
Rolls-Royce Aero Engines had been a mainstay of the British aircraft industry since the Great War, beginning with the Eagle V-12.
The 1920s and 30s saw great progress in civil aviation, while the development of military types languished somewhat.
By the early Thirties, performance and design limits had been stretched by racing, ushering in a new era.
War clouds also seemed to be gathering on the horizon, and Rolls-Royce knew they would have to produce a new engine if they were to remain competitive. They developed a new engine as a private venture, wisely anticipating future needs.
The result was the Merlin, a 27 liter liquid-cooled and supercharged V-12.
Simultaneously, Hawker Aircraft Company and Supermarine (by then owned by Vickers) were prototyping new fighter planes- which became the Hurricane and Spitfire, respectively.
Both were powered by the Merlin and went into production not a moment too soon. On September 1, 1939 the Germans invaded Poland and the war was on.
The Royal Air Force's Hurricanes and Spits would defy the superior numbers of the Luftwaffe during the battle of Britian, and the Merlin became widely used in many other planes. In 1940 a deal was struck with the Packard Motor Car Company to produce Merlins under license in the Untied States.
Packard eventually built 58,000 of them, and they powered the famous P-51 Mustang as well as PT boats and tanks.
While Rolls-Royce Merlins were hand built and individually fettled, Packard had to do lots of engineering work to ensure successful mass production.
The debate over which version was "better" has never ended, but it's hardly important because these were two different approaches to manufacturing. Rolls was working with limited resources and under constant threat of bombardment, while Packard had the benefit of unlimited resources far from the ravages of war.
They did make improvements, but not without the agreement of Rolls-Royce. It was a cooperative effort of mutual benefit and it helped turn the tide of World War II.
The image shows a Packard V-1650 Merlin built in 1945. Note the two-stage mechanical supercharger. (National Air and Space Museum)
Type: Reciprocating, 12 cylinders, V-type, liquid cooled
Power rating: 1,111 kW (1,490 hp) at 3,000 rpm
Displacement: 27 L (1,650 cu in)
Bore and Stroke: 137 mm (5.4 in.) x 152 mm (6 in.)
Weight: 744 kg (1,640 lb)
This new book showcases Zimmerman's decades long assignments from Detroit to New York and beyond, including many never-before-published photos.
Zimmerman was a meticulous practitioner who worked steadily for magazines like Sports Illustrated, Life, and The Saturday Evening Post.
"Auto America: Car Culture 1950s-1970s" is published by Rizzoli Books and available in stores and online.
This special 1955 Chevrolet Bel Air Coupe was the 50 Millionth GM car and had many gold-plated parts and was unveiled to great fanfare, including a parade through the streets of Flint, Michigan.
Carroll Shelby at the Cuban Grand Prix, Havana, 1958. That same year, Juan Manuel Fangio was kidnapped by Castro's rebels. A terrible crash killed spectators and the race was cancelled.
Phil Hill on the cover of Sports Illustrated, 1959. Two years later he would become Formula 1 World Champion.
Henry Ford II, left, with Ernest Breech, Chairman of Ford Motor Company, sitting in the new 1955 Thunderbird.
The 1956 Buick Centurion Show Car, one of many wild GM Motorama designs. The sweep motif along the side of the body carried over to production Buicks for 1957.
Turn 1, Indianapolis 500, as shot from the Ford Thunderbird Pace Car, 1961.
AJ Foyt was the winner.
After World War II, Chrysler's cars were solidly engineered but uninspired. Flagging sales figures in the early Fifties forced a new direction.
The first big change was a new emphasis on performance with the development of the Hemi V8 engine, and then a relationship with Carrozzeria Ghia in Italy heavily influenced the styling direction of the company.
But it was the vision of one man that really transformed Chrysler's image from stodgy to sexy and propelled its cars into the Space Age. His name was Virgil Exner.
Though Exner never finished college, he'd done work for Studebaker and Pontiac and had solid skills and a remarkably imaginative mind, always distancing himself from conventional automotive forms. Exner was made Chrysler's first styling Chief and managed to convince its President, K.T. Keller, to push the envelope.
Under Exner's direction, the cars became lower, leaner and sleeker. He was an early proponent of tailfins not just as styling cues but as functional elements of high-speed stability, even doing wind tunnel testing to demonstrate his ideas.
They called it "The Forward Look", and the 1957 line caught Ford, GM and the others flat-footed. Their marketing tagline "Suddenly, it's 1960" highlighted the advanced forms and dared the others to catch up.
There were quality control issues along the way- the torsion bar suspensions would snap, the push-button transmissions were problematic, and rust was an issue- but those things notwithstanding, Chrysler had scored a big sales victory and changed its image.
Hear the full story in Episode 68 of Horsepower Heritage, anywhere you get your podcasts.
A visit to Nicolas Hunziker's Studio for an in-depth interview was a feast for the eyes. His art conjures the legends of motorsport and he paints in a bold, signature lithographic style.
Nicolas paints heroic scenes and iconic machinery, full of action and emotion. His great uncle was Prince Bira of Siam, who raced Grand Prix cars in the 1930s.
Porsche's racing exploits are a particular favorite for Nicolas, and he also owns several 911s, including a "Sports-Purpose" air-cooled car and several contemporary models.
His company, Hunziker Design, produces art prints, apparel, wristwatches and more. Each piece is designed with a passion for the historical accuracy of the subject.
Bill Devin was a true gearhead. He grew up in Southern California, served in the U.S. Navy in World War II and worked for a time at Douglas Aircraft in Santa Monica. In the late 1940s he bought a 750cc Crosley Hotshot and began club racing.
The postwar sports car craze was a remarkable scene, with a dynamic mix of innovators and drivers from England, France, Italy, Germany and the United States. Bill Devin became friendly with many of the biggest players of the time and that environment would shape his ambitions in the years to come.
He acquired a few car dealerships and that income allowed him to finance his dream project: to build his own custom sports car bodies and even entire cars. Using the new miracle material of fiberglass, Devin began to produce a wide variety of body shells that could be fitted to numerous production cars.
If you wrecked your MG or Triumph, for instance, you could replace the crinkled coachwork with a lightweight Devin shell... or you could order a complete Devin either as a kit or a factory built turn-key car.
Bill Devin had great success for about a decade, offering many iterations from a Panhard-based 750cc car to the Porsche-powered Devin D and even the Devin SS with a Chevrolet 283 cubic-inch V8.
By the mid-1960s , though, demand waned and he moved on to other pursuits (although he continued to provide parts support for many years). After his death, the assets of Devin Enterprises passed to a group of Southern California enthusiasts but whatever their plans may have been, they didn't materialize.
Enter Kevin Callahan, a Pennsylvania car enthusiast who had become fascinated by the Devin story. Several years ago he went down the rabbit hole and eventually purchased what remained of Devin: several large containers of molds, jigs and parts, paper records, photos, and so forth.
Kevin and his sons now operate Devin Sportscars, LLC from a facility in Abington, Pennsylvania. They're providing parts support for Devin owners and the long-term plan is to produce complete cars once again. To that end, a development program is underway and they expect to debut their first Devin Continuation Car at the 2022 Goodwood Revival.
There are still original Devin bodies out there, in the dusty corners of garages and warehouses, just waiting to come out of their decades-long slumber and be built. Kevin says he's thrilled to be supporting the Devin community and receives inquiries from owners worldwide.
You can reach Kevin through his website: at https://devinsportscarsllc.com
Listen to the full story in Episode 54 of Horsepower Heritage. Just click on the home page link.
Photo courtesy and copyright Devin Sportscars LLC.
Reneé Brinkerhoff was in her fifties when she decided to go racing. She didn't know what that meant at the time, but it wasn't long before she found herself as a navigator in a Porsche 356 on the 2012 La Carrera Panamericana Mexican road race. It was "crazy, dangerous and life-changing", says Reneé.
She established Valkyrie Racing, named for the Norse goddesses who ushered fallen warriors to the afterlife in Valhalla. The following year she was behind the wheel of her own car and won her class. Three more LCP entries followed, so she was obviously hooked... and her ambition was to race the car around the world.
Nearly ten years on, Renee and her 1956 356 are veterans of vintage events on six continents including La Carrera, the Peking to Paris Rally, the East African Safari Classic and Targa Tasmania.
Reneé figures that across all these events, she's put 30,000 hard miles on her Porsche. They've seen punishing tropical heat and mud, endless rolling grassland in Mongolia and a frantic clamor to replace the entire engine at a Porsche garage in Russia.
One common thread along the way has always been the enduring generosity and friendship of people in every country.
But amid the thrill of competition and the joys of travel there was a darker side of humanity that was revealed to Reneé.
She learned about the heart-breaking reality of child trafficking. It's estimated to be a 150 billion-dollar worldwide industry. Victims are often lured by promises of employment and instead find themselves trapped in a nightmare.
Reneé and her daughter Christine couldn't look away. They established Project 356, a charity that works with organizations in six countries to prevent the entrapment of children, rescue victims, and rehabilitate those who've escaped from their captors.
Their goal is to raise one million dollars for this effort- but they knew they needed to take on a big challenge to raise awareness and rally donations. That's why the Antarctic Ice Challenge was conceived: a 356 mile expedition across the interior of the continent.
Valkyrie enlisted the engineering assistance of Keiron Bradley of Lotus Cars, who reengineered the 356 to accept a set of rear tracks and front skis, as well as a long list of extreme modifications. Master mechanic Simon Redhead and the team at Tuthill Porsche in the UK carried out the work. It was critical that the car remain outwardly true to the original Porsche design, and as you can see they did an impressive job.
Reneé's navigator and the expedition's leader is veteran Polar explorer Jason De Carteret, the "go-to guru" for such an ambitious adventure.
Christina will lead the film crew in a separate vehicle to document their journey.
The expedition begins December 5 at Union Glacier, driving south toward the pole, then returning to the glacier by December 15.
You can follow the adventure at https://www.valkyrieracing.com
Listen to the full story in Episode 44 of Horsepower Heritage. Just click on the home page link.
Photo courtesy and copyright Valkyrie Racing.
You can help combat child trafficking.
100% of your tax-deductible contribution goes to prevention, rescue and rehabilitation conducted b y vetted organizations in six countries.
When Eric Broutin was a boy he would devour his father's copy of L'Auto-Journal, the venerable French auto news magazine. Broutin marveled over the technical specifications, horsepower figures and design elements of the latest machines.
A career as a software engineer led him to Peugeot, but he confesses his role was far removed from the cars.
Fueling his passion meant striking out on his own and eventually Broutin became a broker specializing in former competition and sports cars. The logical extension of that was to go racing himself- thus French Speed Connection was born. It's his historic racing banner for events like the LeMans Classic and the Heritage Touring Cup.
Eric and his business partner (and best friend) have campaigned a 1967 TransAm Camaro, a Group 4 DeTomaso Pantera, and they've handled the restoration and sale of many racing cars, focusing on the 1970s forward.
Eric shares his insights on vintage racing in Episode 41 of Horsepower Heritage. If you haven't listened yet, just click the home page link and enjoy.
In an era of hyper-specialization and plenty of hand-wringing about the imminent demise of many professions, Paul D'Orleans is a true Renaissance man. He's turned wrenches on 80-year-old motorcycles in the middle of nowhere, curated high profile museum exhibitions and had a long and successful career as a muralist.
After many years of immersion in all things motorcycle- from riding and collecting to concours judging and historical research- D'Orleans launched thevintagent.com in 2006. What started as a bike blog for the hardcore enthusiast has grown to a multimedia cultural phenomenon.
In the 1980s D'Orleans was fully committed to the sub-genre of the cafe racer (so-called because it was created in the early Sixties by young Londoners who rocketed between cafes on their souped-up bikes). The magic number for their bikes to hit was "the ton" or 100 miles per hour. The thrill of those machines kept his curiosity flowing and he's never let up on finding great stories about the machines, their creators and the various tribes of motorcyclists around the world.
Velocettes, BSAs and Nortons have all passed through his care, but he's also owned much older machines like Zenith and Brough Superior. They've all been faithfully preserved and ridden with gusto.
For the past five years D'Orleans has curated a number of exhibitions at the Petersen Museum in Los Angeles. His latest is entitled "ADV: Overland" and celebrates nearly a century of long-distance adventure travel on two and four wheels. The show runs through April 2022.
Clearly, Paul D'Orleans has a lot going on. While he may not ride as hard or "do the ton" as often as he once did, he's still hanging it out in the wind and finding ways to distill the excitement of life on two wheels.
Instagram: @thevintagent
Listen to Horsepower Heritage Episode 40, "Vintage Bikes With Paul D'Orleans" on your favorite podcast app or go to our Home page and scroll down to the episode catalog.
At twenty-two years of age, Nick Dimbleby found himself in the depths of the Borneo jungle, sweating through his shirt and trudging through knee-deep mud.
It was the site of the 1996 Camel Trophy, the legendary off-road expedition in which teams from all over the world converged on remote locations to campaign a fleet of Land Rovers for a thousand torturous miles or more just for the fun of it.
This was Dimbleby's introduction to a career in freelance photography and the first of four Camel Trophy events he would cover. It also established a long and remarkable professional relationship with Land Rover, though his personal affection for the brand runs even deeper.
Since boyhood in the rural environs of Somerset, England, he'd seen Land Rovers doing what they do best: working hard. So it was with a longstanding respect for these vehicles that Dimbleby pursued his photography on the Camel Trophy.
The last Trophy was run in 2000, but its romance and lore is still inspiring off-road adventurers and was arguably a major influence on the expedition vehicle craze of the last fifteen years. Much has been written about the Trophy but no one had really written the "Bible" it deserved.
Nick Dimbleby set out to change that.
His new book, entitled "Camel Trophy: The Definitive History" is an exhaustive record of the people, the vehicles, the locations and more. His research revealed many photographs that have not been seen for decades, as well as firsthand accounts from CT competitors and members of the event cadre.
"Camel Trophy: The Definitive History" is available for pre-order now from Porter Press.
Listen to Episode 37 of Horsepower Heritage,"Tales of the Camel Trophy" with Nick Dimbleby on your favorite podcast app or go to our Home page and scroll down to the episode catalog.
"The first two weeks we did five hundred miles... just dragging that car through the mud."
-Nick Dimbleby
Brandon Hegedus of Calgary, Alberta, Canada had built a few rat rods over the years, including a Cummins turbo diesel-powered Model T monster, but he felt the genre was played out. At the same time, he'd discovered the virtues of combining a smaller, lighter chassis with a more refined powerplant.
Seeking a new challenge and a different experience, Hegedus began to research vintage Formula 1 machines with the intent to find just the right car to replicate.
One challenge is that vintage F1 powertrains of the 1960s were often quite exposed within the chassis and since they aren't exactly laying around for the picking, he realized he's need to focus on a car that had enough bodywork to conceal whatever drivetrain he would eventually choose.
The Ferrari Tipo 156 was the ticket. Dubbed the "Sharknose" it was much-admired by racing fans- and made famous as not only the first mid-engine F1 Ferrari, but also the car that Phil Hill drove to the 1961 World Championship.
However, no original Tipo 156 cars exist. All eight were destroyed on the orders of Enzo Ferrari himself. Neither were there any surviving technical drawings or plans.Hegedus dove into his research and through careful examination of many period photographs, Hegedus managed to determine the various dimensions of the car.
He then constructed a tube-frame chassis , though not without a bit of uncertainty if he'd gotten it true to form. Luckily, correspondence with professional builders in the UK later confirmed his calculations.
The Suzuki Hayabusa engine and gearbox combination was a natural choice for the build, being high-revving, small displacement with a sequential gearshift (perfect for such a narrow cockpit).
Carbon fiber bodywork was fabricated first by essentially carving a full-size mockup and laying the carbon over it.
This four-year project has just recently come to fruition, and it's a resounding success. The full story of the build can be heard in Episode 33 of Horsepower Heritage.
Follow Brandon Hegedus on Instagram:
Hailing from a small village just outside Antwerp, Belgium, Bart Kuykens dreamed of becoming a professional footballer. That's a world away from his eventual career as a high-end commercial and celebrity photographer.
Kuykens is also a lifelong music fan and that interest turned him on to Dutch photographer Anton Corbijn, who is known for his distinctive work in the music world. Kuykens says Corbijn was a major influence on his decision to pursue a career behind the lens.
Bart's hard work and the development of a raw, intimate, atmospheric style resonated in the art and commercial world. He's also become a sought-after portrait photographer, shooting luminaries as varied as actress Asia Argento and pro skateboarder Christian Hosoi.
Passion for the Porsche brand was a parallel interest that merged with his photography in an ambitious book series entitled A Flat Six Love Affair. It's an intensive documentation of notable Porsches and their owners all over the world. The seventh and final volume will be published in late 2021.
Bart's own Porsche ownership has been a sampling of many models over the years, from the F-Series (longhood) models to the Boxter to the Panamera.
His current car, a 1970 911, has been upgraded with a 3.2 liter engine and five-speed gearbox as well as many small personal details.
You can see more of Bart's work and purchase your own copy of his books at https://bartkuykens.com
Hear my full conversation with Bart Kuykens in Episode 32 of Horsepower Heritage.
Eleven years ago, Danilo Coto wanted a special vintage-style motorcycle helmet that would fit in when he was riding his classic Zundapp KS 601.
But in his native Costa Rica, this was not an easy thing to find.
He was already a collector of vintage helmets but he wanted something special to wear, not just display. So he decided to make one for himself.
Coto began to research helmets of the 1950s and realized that getting the details just right was going to be quite a challenge. However, he's obsessive with details and his training and experience as an engineer served him well in the endeavor.
He was fortunate to locate a small independent factory in Costa Rica that had originally been established by AGV, the pioneer Italian helmet firm.
Coto convinced the company to produce a fiberglass shell for him. Through his meticulous research and careful acquisition of authentic components such as the proper rivets, pig leather, cork and textiles, he fashioned a single helmet that was period-correct in every detail.
That one personal obsession grew into his company, Pacto.
Over the last decade, Pacto has produced about 1500 helmets of various types- starting with the late-Fifties Jet style and later adding the 1949 pattern Formula One helmet worn by legends like Juan Manuel Fangio and Stirling Moss.
Pacto now has a full line of helmets for scooters, full-size motorcycles, and vintage sports and racing car applications.
Coto still makes each piece by his own hand with authentic materials, paint finishes and many other details. Pacto helmets can now be seen in use at vintage rally events and tours worldwide. Other products have followed, such as boots, leathergoods and racing-inspired jackets and trousers- allowing enthusiasts to not just drive a piece of history, but look the part when doing so.
See more at https://www.pacto-store.com
Twenty years ago, Michael Emery was employed as the official photographer for California Governor Gray Davis. Few people ever have such a window on the inner workings of government, and Emery's job was to document Davis' stewardship during a rocky period in the state's history. Davis was facing a recall election.
Not many people could resist the intrigue that unfolds in the halls of power, particularly when a fight is brewing. But for his part, Emery remained professional and unswayed by politics.
It all unravelled for Gray Davis, and with it, Emery's photography gig. But he and his family had an unconventional escape plan (and one that was incidental to Davis ouster).
Turns out Emery's wife needed a change, too, and they took their leave of San Francisco to live in Mexico with their children for an extended sabbatical.
Emery had been a frequent vagabond to Mexico since his college days, but the next seven months cemented his love for the country and a new approach to his future.
Fast forward to his return to San Francisco where he worked with various brands on their customer engagement. One of Emery's strengths is his skill in connecting people.
That, along with his marketing experience and bona fide car enthusiast chops, led to a tailor-made position with BringaTrailer.com, which was at the time just beginning to crack the online car auction market.
BaT had managed to create a fun platform where users comment on live auctions, sharing their expertise and personal experiences with each car on offer. It made for a loyal and highly engaged online community. But how to extend that to real life?
At BringaTrailer Michael built a full program of live BringaTrailer events at car shows, concours and vintage race events around the country. In the process he made many connections with fellow enthusiasts nationwide.
But Baja was- is- always calling to him.
He decided to campaign a car in the La Carrera Panamericana Mexican Roadrace revival, driving a Datsun 1600 roadster. He called the ragtag operation "Lucha Libre Racing".
The race was the fulfillment of a romantic ambition, but also a realization of the challenge of building, racing and supporting an old car over the length of Mexico. "A guy I spoke to early on in the planning stage leveled with me and told me it was crazy to do this with no experience and a completely green support crew. He offered his mechanics and other resources , and I accepted. And we couldn't have done it otherwise."
With some seasoned help, a sorted car and some skills he picked up at Bondurant Driving School years prior, Emery set out on the La Carrera.
At the starting line, the flag dropped and he blasted away down the street but was nearly sideswiped by an errant pickup truck that had strayed into the racecourse. "We were almost finished before we'd started. It was a good reminder that this was serious business."
What followed was a Mr. Toad-style blast northward through windy mountain roads and long stretches of highway.
"In the corners we held our own, but then we were flat out on the straights, and dead last in the pack." But he finished.
These days Michael can be found exploring Baja in his fifty year-old Toyota FJ40 Land Cruiser.
"We travel light and tend to eat tacos and beer by the roadside where we find it".
In 2019 Michael launched Slow Baja, a podcast that is part travelogue, part slice-of-life, and one of the best ways for the uninitiated to learn what Baja is all about today. Michael interviews locals, expatriates, desert racers, natural scientists and others who share his love for the peninsula.
It seems his innate kindness is repaid many times over whenever he unravels another Baja story, and he's a great ambassador for this harsh but seductive land.
Hear more Baja Tales in Episode 27 of Horsepower Heritage.
Find the Slow Baja Podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify or wherever you get your podcasts.
Follow Slow Baja on Instagram @slowbaja
FROM FOOTPATH TO FORD MODEL T: THE QUEST FOR MOBILITY
Part One: Settlement and Discovery
Let’s imagine a world where the self-propelled vehicle does not yet exist.
It’s safe to assume that from the dawn of man until the mid-eighteenth century, 99% of humanity had no choice but to walk everywhere. What other options were there? Ride a beast, or use man or beast to pull your wagon. However, if you could afford horses, wagons or human bearers to get around, you were one of a wealthy few. Early wheeled vehicles were mainly implements of war and work, and only the societal elite would have had the means to make them personal transportation. In any event, the state of roads in the ancient world made the whole idea inherently problematic.
So until a minute ago, unless you were wealthy, you were walking… the limitations of which are quite sobering when you consider modern life.
Two advancements changed it all: first, the Industrial Revolution, which was probably the most significant human advancement since development of agriculture; and second, harnessing the power of petroleum, which is the lifeblood of modern civilization.
Prior to the invention of agriculture, humanity was an itinerant species of hunter-gatherers concerned with little more than survival. When the last Ice Age ended about 12,000 years ago, tribes in the Fertile Crescent found conditions more favorable for the cultivation of crops. They were undoubtedly keen and clever observers of the natural world, and agriculture was an adaptation that permitted the rise of civilization. It enabled us to settle down with a renewable source of food and begin to develop other technologies.
Ah, what about the wheel, you say? Yes, it was incredibly important. But it took centuries for the wheel’s versatility to be realized in scale. It was a tool for pottery and for torture and for war, but its technological power wasn’t truly harnessed until the Industrial Revolution. There were brilliant exceptions- witness the Anitkythera mechanism - but nothing so ubiquitous as the wheel we know today in its endless applications.
Now a little background on petroleum (a blanket term for fossil fuel and its derivatives): pound for pound, petroleum is the most practical and energy-dense substance we can lay our hands on and will probably remain so for a long time. Its recorded use by humans dates at least to Babylonian times- but the just like the wheel, petroleum’s true destiny lay far into the future. Petroleum is portable and dividable and its derivatives are vast including fuels, plastics, and textiles.
As the Fertile Crescent gave birth to civilization, Great Britain was the wellspring of industry. Let’s fast forward to Thomas Newcomen's steam engine, circa 1712. You build a fire under an enclosed water-filled vessel. The water boils, producing steam. You capture the steam, which builds pressure. The pressure is forced against a mechanical apparatus (a piston and connecting rod) which then moves to produce work. Newcomen employed his invention as a sump pump to lift water out of mineshafts.
This is an external combustion engine because the heat source is outside the mechanism. The steam engine was improved and refined most notably by Scotsman James Watt in the 1770s (better pressurization, fuel sources, heat transmission and efficiency).
Watt’s innovations were key to the Industrial Revolution, setting off a chain reaction of technological breakthroughs and economic expansion. Transportation, the textile industry, mining and smelting, glassmaking, and the tool industry were transformed. The Industrial Revolution permeated every nook and cranny of society, generating tremendous wealth and raising the standard of living in the West for the first time in history.
By the 1830s, immense steam-powered omnibuses were operating in England and Scotland; undoubtedly they must have been a marvel to witness as they lumbered along. They were the first self-propelled people-movers and, though impressive, they struggled under road tax burdens; the railway era spelled their ultimate demise.
Lessons learned from steam engine development would soon be applied to the next big thing: the internal combustion engine.
Photo Courtesy The Henry Ford Museum. https://www.thehenryford.org/artifact/73039/
"I had a friend. And the friend happened to be the most important man in Italy... for what I needed, anyway. His name was Gianni Agnelli, who owned FIAT. And FIAT owned Turin. He gave me the entire city to use... for nothing."
-Robert Evans, Production Chief, Paramount Pictures (1966-1975), on the making of The Italian Job
Fifty years ago, car-loving moviegoers were given a brilliant gift. It was a madcap heist comedy whose elements combined to make not only the perfect snapshot of the Swinging Sixties, but also an enduring study of our romance with the automobile.
The film was The Italian Job, starring a then thirty-six-year-old Sir Michael Caine as paroled pinchman Charlie Croker, who learns of a recently deceased colleague's plan to hijack the FIAT company's gold bullion convoy in the gridlocked streets of Turin in broad daylight.
He decides to go ahead with the caper, hitting the convoy at rush hour, while a soccer match is underway between Italy and England.
Croker immediately pitches the scheme to crime boss Mr. Bridger (Noel Coward) and assembles his gang. What follows is a thrill ride of hilarious improbability.
They tangle with the mafia. They hack the city’s new computerized traffic control system.
The gold convoy is intercepted amid hordes of rowdy soccer fans. Croker's gang make their escape in a trio of Austin Minis while the stunned policia give chase in their Alfa Giulias. And even the mafia can’t stop them, try as they might.
If the heist sounds outrageous and daunting, so was the production itself.
The budget was tight; Peter Yates, who had done Bullitt with Steve McQueen, was an early favorite to direct, but Peter Collinson was tapped since he could be had for less money and was a hungry up-and-comer.
Filming in a crowded Italian city was challenge enough alone, but the story called for the intentional creation of traffic jams while the Minis pirouetted through piazzas, bounded down marble staircases and through colonnades, and jumped a twenty-meter gap between rooftops as they absconded with the loot.
It was all perfectly orchestrated by French stunt coordinator and driver Rémy Julienne, perhaps the best man in the business. But Julienne would need whole city blocks and long stretches of the autostrada, hundreds of extras and hundreds of cars.
" Remember, lads... in this country they drive on the wrong side of the road." -Charlie Croker
Ah, yes, the cars:
British Leyland Motor Corporation, the makers of the Austin Mini and a slew of other brands, were inexplicably disinterested and offered virtually no assistance. Over twenty-five Minis were eventually acquired at nearly full price.
Director of Photography Douglas Slocombe later observed, "Here we were about to make the greatest commercial for cars that probably could ever be made... the Minis were obviously the heroes of the film... and what, every other company, one knows, would've gone out of their way to give us every facility!"
Perhaps British Leyland lacked vision, or perhaps they reckoned they didn't have to help because the Minis were too integral to replace with some other car.
Leyland was a giant conglomerate of practically every surviving British marque. Either way, the film cemented the plucky little Mini's place in the automotive Hall of Fame.
Meanwhile over at FIAT, Gianni Agnelli lent his full and considerable influence to the producers.
After a brief summit with the Chief of Police and local bureaucrats, all of Turin lay at Collinson's feet.
The FIAT factory and its products featured heavily throughout the picture, including a raucous chase around the company's rooftop test track. Agnelli wasn't about to let British Leyland get away with all the glory.
The main players -Michael Caine, Noël Coward, Benny Hill, Rossano Brazzi- and the supporting cast- inhabit the story perfectly.
British and Italian flair dots the vignettes, gestures, dialog and punchlines like an endless platter of hors d'oeuvres circling through a party.
It's all backed by Quincy Jones' groovy score that nails the mood: you're pretty sure no one will get hurt, and yet the giggling exhilaration of the whole crazy caper makes you think disaster is imminent.
All of this behind-the-scenes business and the creative choices are captivating. But for car enthusiasts, it’s the all-star cast: the Minis, an Aston Martin DB4, two E-Type Jaguars, a diplomat's Daimler, the gang's Land Rover, and FIATs, Alfas, Lancias, Renaults, you name it.
The sexiest, of course, is the star of the opening sequence: a bright orange 1966 Lamborghini Miura P400 twisting through the Gran San Bernando Pass through the Alps… only to meet a hideous end.
The Miura had just come on the market when the movie was released and it was a sensation.
More than a few car fans were furious to see it apparently wrecked in the film, and the lore surrounding its fate took on a life of its own.
The truth is, the producers had two Miuras, one for driving and one for destruction. The ruined car had already been written off in a collision and was merely a stunt double. (Sadly, the Aston Martin DB4 and the two E-types were sacrificed, but such is art.)
For many years, Lambo fans wondered what became of the cars. We still don’t know about the one that was smashed to bits, if any of it survived. It didn’t have an engine at the time of filming, so it was probably scrapped.
But the Miura that was driven in the film, chassis #3586, survived…and over the decades, it simply got passed through a succession of owners, none of whom must have cared about its time on the silver screen and probably didn’t know that there was anyone looking for it.
When it finally surfaced a few years ago, a classic car dealer bought it and suspected it was indeed the Italian Job car.
One big clue was the color combination: Orange with white leather seats.
Now if you watch the movie you’ll see that the car looks more red than orange, but that was an illusion due to the film stock they used. And you also see it had black leather seats, but that’s because they swapped them out for filming, either to keep the white seats clean or because they would’ve been too reflective during in-car filming. Or maybe for both reasons (and then they replaced the white seats after filming wrapped).
But look carefully and you’ll see the headrests in the film were white, because in a Miura they’re fastened to the rear bulkhead and they didn’t have time to swap them out for filming,
Through research at Lamborghini it was found that only two other cars were built with that combination during the same period it sold at auction and was authenticated by the factory historians.
The car was in pretty good condition and had probably been garaged for most of its life.
In 2018 it was restored by the factory and I saw the car myself at Pebble Beach Concours d’Elegance in 2019, and it was absolutely stunning.
Remy Julienne spent over forty years as a stuntman and stunt coordinator, including on six Bond films, and in all that time, he said his favorite stunt was jumping the Minis between the rooftops. Remy died in January 202 at the age of 90.
It all made for an instant cult classic, even though it wasn’t a box office smash in the US (Robert Evans blamed poor promotion and distribution efforts).
And after all, it was a British production, where American audiences may have been a bit lost in all the cockney banter.
The film bursts with national pride for both England and Italy, their distinct cultural sensibilities, and their domestic motor industries.
Against the present-day reality of multinational corporations, “world car” platforms and badge engineering, it’s easy to forget how much character and quirkiness was once built into automobiles.
The Italian Job will always remind us how lively and flavorful it used to be.
For 1955, Chrysler Corporation introduced an exciting new direction in automotive styling. They called it "The Forward Look"- a sleeker, sharper, jet-age inspired approach, far removed from anything else Detroit had yet put into showrooms.
The Forward Look was the brainchild of Virgil Exner, Chrysler's VP of Design. Exner had worked for GM, Studebaker, and Raymond Loewy prior to ascending to Chrysler's Advanced Styling Group (which was a really just four men).
Chrysler products had been tall, boxy cars since before World War II. In just a few years, their stodgy, portly, dated car line was eclipsed by high-performance, low-slung, forward swept marvels.
And those tail fins. Exner had been intrigued by tailfins since his days at GM, and after seeing wind-tunnel test results, he had become convinced of their benefits in contributing to aerodynamic stability.
The Forward Look set off a tailfin war between Chrysler and GM with ever bigger and bolder iterations (Ford was less enthused and hedged it bets).
Dodge's layered fin interpretation seemed to follow the Royal Lancer theme, as if the fins themselves wore a layer of armor. The Dodge line managed to be sporty, luxurious and muscular all at the same time, at least by Detroit standards- after all, these were enormous cars.
It was an utterly American approach to automobiles and the Big Three were at the height of their glory. The following decade would redefine all these attributes, but for a brief shining moment, Virgil Exner had shaken the whole industry.
"Suddenly It's 1960!"