THE OLDSMOBILE UPDATE
"AMERICA’S TEAM" AT LE MANS: THE BID FOR RACING’S TRIPLE CROWN
Journal, Friday, June 14, 1996, 10:00 a.m.
THE MAGIC OF LE MANS: ONE CORRESPONDENT’S STORY
LE MANS IMPRESSIONS. The immense media center is all but abandoned today. Gazing across the hundreds of work stations and video monitors, I see only a handful of hard-core (or jet lagged?) journalists. Since this is a slow news day, I thought I might offer some impressions of this event from the perspective of a Le Mans rookie. Not only is this the first visit to Le Mans for Oldsmobile and for the Riley & Scott team, but also for your humble correspondent.
A personal note: At the impressionable age of 16, I was infected with Le Mans fever while reading accounts of Ford's 1-2-3 finish in Road & Track. I vowed that someday I would visit Le Mans; it has taken 30 years to realize that ambition. For a kid from Pasadena to finally come to Le Mans in the company of an contending American team is proof that miracles do happen in motorsports.
The rhythm of this race is unlike any other. After two days of qualifying and practice, today (Friday) is a day off for the drivers. Their only obligation is to participate in a parade in downtown Le Mans.
For the crews, Friday is a day to install fresh engines, complete final race preparations, plan strategies, and get some much-needed R&R before the rigors of a twice-around-the-clock race. No cars are permitted on the track today; a half-hour warm-up session on Saturday morning will be the final opportunity for teams to test their raceday setups.
INNOCENCE ABROAD. As the plane descended for landing at Orly Airport on the outskirts of Paris after a 15-hour flight from California, I caught my first glimpse of France (not counting a dimly remembered 10-countries-in-14-days grand tour of Europe with my mother and grandmother in 1962).
To put it plainly, the French countryside is breathtakingly beautiful. The backroads are lined with wildflowers, the villages are authentically picturesque, and the fields are so green it hurts a Californian's eyes to gaze upon them.
The downside of all this abundance is enough pollen to induce hay fever in a stone statue. The Kleenex consumption in the Riley & Scott pit has reached truly epic proportions. Fortunately, the over-the-counter medications available in France are correspondingly potent. The Sudafed I purchased at the Pharmacie in Le Mans is twice as potent as the wimpy American version. The pharmacist emphasized that I was to take no more than three pills a day -- but since my French vocabulary is limited to six essential phrases ("please," "thank you," "where is the men's room?" etc.) he may have been advising me to invest in mutual funds.
My fears about navigating through a hostile, alien land have proved to be totally unwarranted. Outside the Paris city limits, the French are uniformly friendly, helpful, and willing to assist an ignorant American. The people of the Sarthe district are accustomed to the hordes of race fans who descend annually on their corner of the world, and they seem genuinely happy to have us -- without a trace of the artificial politeness that pervades American theme parks.
THE ROAD TO LE MANS. Le Mans is a two-hour drive west of Paris on the pricey Autoroute toll road. The midpoint of the journey is Chartres, instantly identifiable by the spires of the cathedral that can be seen from miles away. Downshifting into tourist mode, Oldsmobile Specialty Vehicle Manager Dennis Weglarz and I detoured to visit this masterpiece of Gothic architecture.
Completed in 1240, the Chartres Cathedral Notre-Dame is an inspiring creation. The nave vaults to a height of 121 feet, and the light that infuses the interior through 150 stained glass windows is magical. It is incomprehensible that such a building could have been erected seven centuries ago using only human labor. As Denny and I leave Chartres, we wonder what monument of the 20th century will still be remarkable 700 years in the future -- and come up short of candidates.
Chartres was also the site of our initiation into French driving technique. Dennis' background as an amateur road racer proved invaluable as he quickly adapted to using sidewalks and curbs as part of the roadway. After we determined that a circular sign with a white bar means "Do Not Enter" instead of "Enter Here," we generally avoided going the wrong way on one-way streets. However, French drivers seem to regard these signs as merely advisory.
POMP AND CIRCUMSTANCE. The 24 Hours of Le Mans is steeped in tradition and overlaid with French formality. Consider the ritual of technical inspection, or "scrutineering" in the local parlance. At most races, tech inspection takes place in the pits before the first practice session. But at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, tech inspection is an Event.
The scrutineering site is in the center of town at the Place des Jacobins. The inspection is by appointment only, with scheduled times for each car to be presented. Simply getting to the site is a major project, since the park is virtually inaccessible with an 18-wheeler. The Riley & Scott team hired a flat-bed truck to transport their car to tech inspection. It seemed incongruous to watch their Daytona- and Sebring-winning race car being winched onto a wrecker like a derelict Citroen.
The park where inspection takes place is overlooked by the walls of the old city of Le Mans. The contrast is striking: 200 mph race cars being inspected in a site where Romans built walls in the third century.
Thousands of spectators turn out for scrutineering. The process is conducted in the full view in a series of stations, each with its own tent, equipment, and personnel. Each station has its own checklist and agenda: safety equipment, lights, weight, dimensions, engine, etc. At the fourth station, a lift raises the car six feet in the air to allow inspectors to examine the underside of the chassis.
Only after an entry successfully runs this gauntlet is the crew chief permitted to apply the official Le Mans entry decals that signify the car has been approved. The drivers, crew, and car then pose for their official portraits.
DO YOU KNOW THE WAY TO MULSANNE? More than three-quarters of the roads that comprise the 8.5-mile "Circuit International du Mans" are actually public highways. The roads are blocked off at 5:00 o'clock for practice and qualifying, and then reopened for the next morning's commute.
Thus anyone with a rental car can drive most of the Le Mans circuit. The famous Mulsanne Straight is literally the road to Mulsanne, complete with round-abouts, restaurants, and driveways. The chicanes that were installed to rein in the speed of the cars (which formerly topped 250 mph) are blocked off with portable barriers, but anyone with a driver's license can still experience the infamous Mulsanne Kink and Indianapolis Curve firsthand. I have heard lurid tales of wannabe race car drivers practicing their two-wheeled cornering techniques in the Indianapolis Curve after hours, much to the delight of the spectators who are camped out along the course.
The thought of driving down the Mulsanne Straight in pitch darkness at 200 mph is utterly terrifying. The steel guardrail that lines the track seems a fragile barrier between the roadway and the thicket of trees that border the track. You can sit in one of the restaurants on the back straight and literally drape your arm over the Armco while sipping a glass of *vin rouge* as the race cars streak past your table. An American insurance underwriter would go into cardiac arrest at the sight.
HOLIDAY INN WAS NEVER LIKE THIS. With more than 200,000 fans expected to attend the 24 Hours of Le Mans, accommodations are predictably difficult to find. The Loire Valley is not exactly overrun with HoJo's (thank goodness), so the choices are limited: you camp or you stay in a chateau.
Fortunately I am staying in a chateau rather than a pup tent during my first visit to Le Mans. Weglarz and I are bivouacked in the Chateau de Bellefille, which is about 15 miles from the circuit. We are staying in the "new" wing, which was built in the flamboyant Gothic style in the 15th century. The folks from Michelin are in the "old" wing, which was constructed in the 13th century.
The stone walls are 18 inches thick, the ceilings are 15 feet high, and the plumbing is rudimentary. A window in Dennis' room opens to reveal a small chapel. The chateau overlooks a valley where horses and cows graze peacefully. This morning I awoke to the sound of doves and the aroma of dark French coffee brewing. Toto, I don't think we're in California any more.
MEDIA AMAZEMENT. In my 25-year career as a motorsports journalist/p.r. flack, I've seen my share of press rooms, but none can compare to the Media Centre (sic) at Le Mans. It is truly one of the seven wonders of the motorsports world -- and I can't even think of the other six.
The room is as long as a football field, stretching the length of the garages that line pit road. For a deposit of 100 francs (about $20 US) you can reserve one of the hundreds of work stations. Each station has a power tap, modem port, and private video monitor. You can view lap times, qualifying results, or see the video feed from various locations around the circuit. Conversations are conducted in French, English, American (a distinct dialect), German, Italian, and Japanese. There are banks of phones and faxes, and a restaurant/bar upstairs. For someone who is accustomed to working race weekends in a rented trailer with a folding table and one semi-functioning phone line, this is a vision of heaven.
I have come equipped with enough adapters and converters to supply an Army. The power taps in the Media Center are French (what else would they be?) while the plugs in the rented motorhome are English. Both are 220 volts, while my American computer, printer, scanner, battery charger, etc. insist on a diet of 110 volts. Then there are the adapters for the French and English phone jacks. So far none of the electronics have vaporized in a puff of smoke.
For decades I have heard about the "magic" of Le Mans. I can now attest that it exists, and I understand why people come back year after year. The anticipation for this year's event is electric. With the involvement of the American teams, the return of Ferrari, the strength of the Porsches, and the numbers of the McLarens, the 64th annual 24 Heures du Mans may prove to be a classic. I am grateful to whatever angel was listening when a 16-year kid made a wish to go to Le Mans so many years ago.
