REVIEW-MAGIC OF LE MANS

Subj:  REVIEW-MAGIC OF LE MANS		Section: F-1/Internat'l News
  To:  All				Friday, June 14, 1996 5:19:22 AM
From:  Rick Voegelin, 72467,3005	#818965

Friday, June 14, 1996, 10:00 a.m.

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.