I have discovered over the past couple of days that there are many different types of pilgrimage. There are those which lead the faithful, to Jerusalem, Assisi or Santiago de Compostela and then there are those which lead fans to gather in there thousands to worship that which they hold most dear. Be it their football team or the smell of rubber, oil and the roar of an engine which is to be found here at the 24hr Le Man.
For one week every year the town of Le Man is the focus for the thousands of people [mainly men] who worship the motor car commonly know as petrol-heads whose patron saint is not our Lady but, Clarkson. In some respects it reminds me a little of the International Air Tattoo at Fairford which Shrivenhamites are familiar with. Every spare field around the circuit becomes either a car park or camping site.
I’m in the posh bit ‘Private Camping’ for members of Motor Clubs the petrol heads equivalent of belonging to a monastic community. Our 2 acre site is shared between the Lotus 7 Club, the Lotus owners Club and the Porsche Drivers Club. I don’t know who let in the German cars!!! We have our own shower and toilets, marquee with bar and restaurant and big telly which I mentioned before. Most of all we are only a 3 minute walk from the main entrance and have seats in the main Turbine Stand 34 which overlooks the pits and the start/finish line. We even have our own race girls know as the ‘Speed Chills Girls’ who are here to make us feel special and not middle aged as we all are. I’m please to report that our girls are no bimbows. Though they sport short skirts and small yellow shorts depending on the time of day they are all studying for a degree at Oxford Brooks [where my beloved wife study] so our girls not only have looks but brains one was even studying philosophy so I was able to engage her in philosophical debate.
The worship of the internal combustion engine does not only take place inside the circuit but around the camp and in the neighbouring villages. At night people gather on the streets and roundabouts to watch cars go by. If you are driving something sporty be it Ferrari, Porsche or a Caterham 7 you are stopped and asked to rev the car and burn rubber. Failure to do so is met by a soaking with water pistols. The French Police are all over the place but let this pass as it is part of the ritual. Instead of plaster saints being paraded its horse power and polished paint work. I received a round of applause and cheer for my efforts even producing smoke from the rear wheels! However as these tyres need to last me another 2800 miles once was enough and Rocinante is safely parked in the camp site and will remain there until Monday morning.
The start of the race is overwhelming and the atmosphere is electric. At around 2pm the cars are brought out from the pits and lined up diagonally along the pit straight. Years ago the drives had to stand on the opposite side of the track and when the green flag was waived they had to run to there cars and start the engine and go, these days as the drivers have to be fastening in properly and the car started by the pit crew this is mainly homage to days gone by. At this point the main straight is a hive of activity with technicians making final adjustments to the cars the press taking photos and the race girls posing with the cars yes and even our ‘Speed Chills Girls’ with oddly enough ‘Creation Racing’. Then the national anthem of each driver is played and the flag of the nation paraded. The Brits even out did the French when God Save the Queen way played with around 80% of people in the stands standing, doffing hats and singing and then a huge cheer. In fact I’ve hardly heard a French voice since I’ve been here.
The testosterone level at this point is off the scale!!! Finally at ten to three an official waives a green flag and the cars go off on their warm up lap. Then the most amazing thing happens. Once all the cars are clear absolute silence descends on the stands the tension is incredible. The President of the French Automobile Club then walks out on a gantry above the Rolex Clock and the digital time flickers two 24:00:00. As the sound of the cars in the distance gets closer he unrolls the Tricolour [French Flag] as the cars approach the start line he waives it and the race begin to the most enormous cheer, sound of air horns which is all drowned out by the drivers flooring the gas pedal along the straight some reaching nearly 200MPH in a few seconds and the Rolex timer displays 23:59:59 and counting down.
You then realize that this race is going to continue until 3pm Sunday afternoon and after about half and hour everyone gets up and goes to have a drink or to by provisions for the evening meal at the local supermarket. The race is quite amazing really each car has up to three drives and apart for fuel, tyre and driver changes these cars will drive non stop at constant speeds in excess of 150mph for 24hrs. The aim is not only to win but to finish it is the ultimate engineering challenge. It’s because of races like this that you and I now have cars that only need servicing once a year or two in the case of diesels.
The battle this year is between the French and the Brits. The Brits are racing 3 Lola Aston Martins numbers 007 008 009 petrol engines in the famous Gulf colours of orange and light blue as in the Le Mans film staring Steve McQueen. The French are racing Peugeots which are HDi diesels just like the engine I have in my Peugeot 407 family estate but my bigger.
I will venture back to my stand this evening after my dinner and when it’s dark and the night racing begins.
For one week every year the town of Le Man is the focus for the thousands of people [mainly men] who worship the motor car commonly know as petrol-heads whose patron saint is not our Lady but, Clarkson. In some respects it reminds me a little of the International Air Tattoo at Fairford which Shrivenhamites are familiar with. Every spare field around the circuit becomes either a car park or camping site.
I’m in the posh bit ‘Private Camping’ for members of Motor Clubs the petrol heads equivalent of belonging to a monastic community. Our 2 acre site is shared between the Lotus 7 Club, the Lotus owners Club and the Porsche Drivers Club. I don’t know who let in the German cars!!! We have our own shower and toilets, marquee with bar and restaurant and big telly which I mentioned before. Most of all we are only a 3 minute walk from the main entrance and have seats in the main Turbine Stand 34 which overlooks the pits and the start/finish line. We even have our own race girls know as the ‘Speed Chills Girls’ who are here to make us feel special and not middle aged as we all are. I’m please to report that our girls are no bimbows. Though they sport short skirts and small yellow shorts depending on the time of day they are all studying for a degree at Oxford Brooks [where my beloved wife study] so our girls not only have looks but brains one was even studying philosophy so I was able to engage her in philosophical debate.
The worship of the internal combustion engine does not only take place inside the circuit but around the camp and in the neighbouring villages. At night people gather on the streets and roundabouts to watch cars go by. If you are driving something sporty be it Ferrari, Porsche or a Caterham 7 you are stopped and asked to rev the car and burn rubber. Failure to do so is met by a soaking with water pistols. The French Police are all over the place but let this pass as it is part of the ritual. Instead of plaster saints being paraded its horse power and polished paint work. I received a round of applause and cheer for my efforts even producing smoke from the rear wheels! However as these tyres need to last me another 2800 miles once was enough and Rocinante is safely parked in the camp site and will remain there until Monday morning.
The start of the race is overwhelming and the atmosphere is electric. At around 2pm the cars are brought out from the pits and lined up diagonally along the pit straight. Years ago the drives had to stand on the opposite side of the track and when the green flag was waived they had to run to there cars and start the engine and go, these days as the drivers have to be fastening in properly and the car started by the pit crew this is mainly homage to days gone by. At this point the main straight is a hive of activity with technicians making final adjustments to the cars the press taking photos and the race girls posing with the cars yes and even our ‘Speed Chills Girls’ with oddly enough ‘Creation Racing’. Then the national anthem of each driver is played and the flag of the nation paraded. The Brits even out did the French when God Save the Queen way played with around 80% of people in the stands standing, doffing hats and singing and then a huge cheer. In fact I’ve hardly heard a French voice since I’ve been here.
The testosterone level at this point is off the scale!!! Finally at ten to three an official waives a green flag and the cars go off on their warm up lap. Then the most amazing thing happens. Once all the cars are clear absolute silence descends on the stands the tension is incredible. The President of the French Automobile Club then walks out on a gantry above the Rolex Clock and the digital time flickers two 24:00:00. As the sound of the cars in the distance gets closer he unrolls the Tricolour [French Flag] as the cars approach the start line he waives it and the race begin to the most enormous cheer, sound of air horns which is all drowned out by the drivers flooring the gas pedal along the straight some reaching nearly 200MPH in a few seconds and the Rolex timer displays 23:59:59 and counting down.
You then realize that this race is going to continue until 3pm Sunday afternoon and after about half and hour everyone gets up and goes to have a drink or to by provisions for the evening meal at the local supermarket. The race is quite amazing really each car has up to three drives and apart for fuel, tyre and driver changes these cars will drive non stop at constant speeds in excess of 150mph for 24hrs. The aim is not only to win but to finish it is the ultimate engineering challenge. It’s because of races like this that you and I now have cars that only need servicing once a year or two in the case of diesels.
The battle this year is between the French and the Brits. The Brits are racing 3 Lola Aston Martins numbers 007 008 009 petrol engines in the famous Gulf colours of orange and light blue as in the Le Mans film staring Steve McQueen. The French are racing Peugeots which are HDi diesels just like the engine I have in my Peugeot 407 family estate but my bigger.
I will venture back to my stand this evening after my dinner and when it’s dark and the night racing begins.
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