Freitag,
29. März 2024
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Clermont to Le Mans
Located in the heart of France, Clermont-Ferrand is famous for its extinct volcanoes and the Michelin tire company's head office. It's sort of like Akron, Ohio, then. Apart from the volcanoes. And the great food and wine. And the occasional art-deco mansion. Oh, and the fact one of the world's great forgotten racetracks lies just minutes from the center of town.
The fast, flowing 5.0-mile Charade Circuit was built in 1958 and hosted the French Grand Prix in 1965, 69, 70, and 72. At the time, Charade was described as a shorter, faster and twister version of the legendary Nurburgring Nordschliefe. And after hustling the Challenger around what's left of the old circuit today (a corner of it was converted to a permanent track in the late 80s) I can see that in its glory days Charade truly was a match for the epic Nordschliefe.
From the highest point, near the village of Charade, the track sweeps and swoops through the forest down the side of ancient volcano, a fast series of S-bends punctuated by three sharp right handers that really punish the brakes. It sweeps right through a giant compression at the bottom, and starts a fast, flowing climb that runs around the shoulder of the mountain.
It's a real thrill ride, even at quasi-legal speeds in the Challenger. I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like in a late 60s, early 70s Formula 1 car. Charade is the kind of track Hemingway would have imagined: No guardrails, no run-off areas, no gravel traps, trees almost at the edge of the track, constant changes in elevation and direction. The guys who braved the Charade Circuit had cojones the size of coconuts...
In 1966 the Charade Circuit got a cameo role in John Frankenheimer's classic racing movie, "Grand Prix". If you've not seen it, check out the trailer here. The dialogue's a little cheesy, but the visuals are spectacular, and you get to see Graham Hill attempt to steal every scene he's in.
There's also a tenuous Chrysler connection with the track. In the 1972 race New Zealander Chris Amon came within an ace of giving French team Matra its first GP victory, until slowed by a puncture. (One of the most talented drivers of the era, Amon was dogged by bad luck throughout his career. Mario Andretti once joked that if he became an undertaker, people would stop dying.) So where's the connection? Matra was a French aerospace company that decided to get into the car business, and it used the Chrysler-owned Simca dealer network to distribute its products.
We leave Clermont-Ferrand for 300 miles of autoroute across France to Le Mans. The wide, smooth French autoroutes are meticulously maintained (they ought to be -- the tolls for the trip totaled $77) and, unfortunately, assiduously policed. Just 5 mph above the 80 mph limit is all we dare, especially in a car that in this country looks about as inconspicuous as a small nuclear explosion.
I take the time to reflect on the Challenger's interior. We've been living here for eight days now. It's become home.
So it's a good thing the seats are very comfortable; we have no aches or pains, even after a long day at the wheel. The ergonomics are also very good. There's a rest for your left foot -- and I'm still amazed at how many American cars neglect this simple driver aid -- most of the switchgear is easily found. The HVAC controls feel beautifully weighted and damped, like something out of a luxury car. The audio system runs the gamut from AM to iPod, though we're well out of range of the Sirius satellite. It doesn't help make French rock music sound any better, though.
The nav system's a bit clunky. Adjusting the scale via the touch screen is tricky, especially as you have to look hard at what you're doing, which isn't always a good idea when you're driving. We've missed one exit on this trip because we were so busy fiddling with the screen. The all-black interior, relieved only by slashes or orange across the seats, is a little somber, and the late change to the garnish on the center stack and console means the silver splashes on the slightly-too-large 300C steering wheel look out of place. The cost constraints are obvious in places -- this car was done on a very tight budget -- but overall the Challenger interior is far nicer than, say, a Mustang's.
We roll into Le Mans a little after 5 p.m., check into the hotel then drive a few minutes out of town to the legendary Sarthe circuit. The 24 Hour race has been run and won -- I was here almost a month ago to watch the Audi R10 TDI steal victory from the faster Peugeot 908 HDIs -- but most of the track hardware is still in place as the Le Mans Classic, the bi-annual event for pre-1979 cars, is taking place this weekend. It's a popular event: They have well over 400 entries.
A Chrysler first raced here in 1925, and three years later a pair of Chrysler 72s finished third and fourth overall, surprising the hell out of the Europeans. More recently, of course, the Viper GTS-R coupe was a class winner here three years running, in 1998, 1999, and 2000.
The basic layout of the 8.5-mile long Sarthe Circuit has changed little since those 72s ran here 60 years ago. We can't drive up the pit lane and under the iconic Dunlop Bridge, as these are now part of the permanent Bugatti Circuit, but we can join the track just as it sweeps on to the famous 3.7-mile Mulsanne Straight. Before chicanes were installed, Mulsanne was a pedal-to-the-metal ride the whole way, even through the gentle right hand kink part way down. It doesn't look like much as we saunter through at 50 mph, but at over 200 mph it was like threading a needle -- while balancing a bottle of nitroglycerine on your head.
We drive the track until the barriers signal the beginning of the Bugatti Circuit section, through the sharp turns at Mulsanne, Arnage, Indianapolis, and Porsche Curves. It feels odd running between the guardrails, rumbling over the blue-and-yellow kerbing, scuffing the tire tracks still visible in the turns, while the locals hurry past in their Renaults and Peugeots, on their way home from the supermarket or the office.
Clermont-Ferrand and Le Mans; both home to heroes who tested themselves to the limit, and ghosts that gloried in the challenge. Tomorrow, though, we're off to a place where heroes of a different kind helped change the world, and their ghosts still weep.
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