I came across this in an old Motor Sport. I hope that it will prove intresting and perhaps prompt other stories, whether first hand or otherwise of racing drivers on the road.

"I recently had the pleasant experience of following two of the top Grand Prix drivers while driving across France for 100 miles or more and during that time my eyes were opened to one of the things that make a good driver better than the rest. People are always asking me what it is that Fangio, Moss, Behra or Hawthorn have that others haven't got and why could not Joe Soap do the same given the same opportunity. One can give reasons galore and explain this and that but it is never convincing,, and the sort of people that make such inquiries never get the opportunity to stand right on the edge of the track and watch the top drivers cornering. Following Jean Behra across the south of France a while ago, he was motoring along at his normal reasonable rate for going home from a race meeting, cruising at 75-80 m.p.h. There was not much traffic about and the road wound very gently, but I was very conscious that his brake lights were not working, bearing in mind how often 1 had been using my own breaks until suddenly they did work and I realised that for many miles he just had not used the brakes, but had been lifting off and cornering quite rapidly in spite of this. Paying greater attention I began to realise that this lack of braking was deliberate and calculated and that he was approaching corners or possible incidents on a trailing throttle and waiting seconds longer than I was before he either braked or accelerated, depending on the road conditions, whereas 1 found 1 was braking as soon as the next move was not obvious. Nine times out of ten the next move was to accelerate and by the time this was obvious 1 had lost too much speed. Following about 50 yards behind 1 studied Behra's brake lights and the road conditions ahead and soon realised just how smooth his driving was, and a glance at my rev-counter rather shook me as to the speed at which everything was being done. After some 20 or 30 miles 1 found that I was as far more relaxed than usual and I could feel the smoothness at which the two cars were travelling. Fortunately Behra was making no attempts to hurry round the corners so that 1 was able to keep up and enjoy the driving lesson; had he decided to take the corners on the limit we should have had to progress into lesson number five, on the visual appreciation of the speed at which corners can be taken, and then 1 should have found myself in the ditch.

"Some while later I had occasion to follow Stirling Moss, running in convoy for many hundreds of miles across France, he driving at five-tenths, and I driving at eight-tenths, so that our average speed was the same. Once more we were cruising around the 80 m.p.h. mark and I soon realised that exactly the same set of circumstances were appertaining. At points where I could not see whether the next move was to brake hard or accelerate hard, I found 1 was braking and Moss was on a trailing throttle still waiting to see what the road conditions were going to develop into, and again nine times out of ten the result was acceleration which meant that I was on the wrong foot. After a severe talking to over lunch, 1 paid great attention and followed Moss closely, the line through corners being easy to reproduce, and as he was not trying the speed was also easy to follow, but still this business of judgment of impending circumstances was foxing, though after a whole afternoon’s teaching I am glad to say that 1 showed a marked improvement. Naturally the reply to all this is what happened on the tenth occasion when the next move was not to accelerate but to brake ? Simply that 1 was braking anyway, but Moss had to brake really hard and also do a little winding of the steering wheel, and most important, not to worry if the car was sideways on for a time.

"I do not wish to give the impression that the foregoing is the reason why one driver becomes a Grand Prix driver and another remains a bus-driver, but it is one of the many hundreds of reasons, and together they all boil down to exceptional judgment of conditions and quick reflexes. This remarkable lack of braking, during main road driving, was clearly an attribute of both these drivers, and that it is not normal is shown from the fact that 1 have followed many friends at quite high speeds on main road runs, and until 1 followed the Grand Prix boys I had found my brake reactions were well up to standard for fast club drivers. Closely connected with this braking business is also the judgment of relative speeds, when motoring on public roads. The fine degree of judgment that Moss has when travelling at 80 m.p.h. and viewing from a distance a car going the same way at 40 m.p.h. another approaching at 50 m.p.h., for example, and the closing gap approaching the brow of a hill over which someone may appear on the wrong side of the road, is one of the reasons he is among the select few at the top of Grand Prix racing. Just how one learns to appreciate such conditions 1 am hoping to learn in future lessons. It was interesting that during the Mille Miglia practice in the 300 SLR Mereedes-Benz- even Moss had difficulty in judging relative speeds. On a number of occasions while we were travelling at 155 m.p.h. we would see ahead of us, too far away to recognise the makes, two cars abreast and it was quite impossible to tell whether they were going opposite ways or one was overtaking the other. To be looking that far ahead will give you some appreciation of the concentration needed to have at really high speeds on the open road."

Tahnx for posting it Roger, I enjoyed reading it immensely. DJS, I guess? I must admit I suspected it even before he mentioned MM. I'm turning to be a great fan of his...

You should have been long ago, Wolf, but I guess you never had the exposure?

I have been doing a lot of brakeless driving lately, but a story I can relate gives an insight to this.

Once, hitch-hiking to Melbourne (from Sydney) to go to Sandown for a race meeting (natch!) I was going very well. Twelve lifts, never more than a few minutes out of a car, and some of them travelling fairly well... even drove one for a while, but that's another story... approaching Gundagai, where I was to get out of the HD X2 three army guys were tiring in (they'd driven from Brisbane that day, were going to Wagga), our pace had dropped from around 100mph to about 85 when a Dodge Phoenix rumbled by.

At Gundagai, we pulled in at a servo, and before going to stand on the roadside I decided to approach the Dodge and see if I could warm its back seat for a while... The passenger was just saying that they were stopping for the night when the driver came over and asked what I wanted. "Hop in," he quickly said.

Between there and Melbourne he used the brakes just twice. And this was on the old Hume Highway, with all its towns, twists and trucks (alliteration, great!). But he was backing off, coasting into the bends or up to the trucks, then using the torque of the V8 to pull quickly up to his 105mph cruising speed. The brakes for when traffic lights halted our progress.

Of course, he knew the road exceptionally well, as he owned a fleet of Dodge trucks engaged on 'overnight' work between the two capitals. Later I learned, sadly, he died in one of these on that road.

With the good run I had, the trip from Greystanes to Essendon took 9 hours 20 minutes, putting me hours ahead of schedule, but the big thing was the lessons I learned about how to cover miles in our country... to just sit up there on the high speed without remorse, and to take no chances.

Of course, it's deadly today.. the roads and cars are better, the speed limits impossible and policing intense.

But to complete the story, I now have a car in which I avoid using the brakes even more. It has dragging calipers that I keep putting off rebuilding, and uses pads like crazy, so I've been doing some brakeless driving at a much higher level, using anticipatory skills to the utmost and wondering if the people I'm passing notice that the stoplights never come on.

Smoothness is a real asset in achieving this, and you learn it readily when you need to. Of course, pad knock off can give you some surprises if you haven't used the centre pedal for a long time...

Yes, it was DSJ of course. The article also contained a picture of Moss' car, which was a fairly prosaic looking Mercedes 220A saloon. It was said to have a sports engine and other alterations onl available to the works drivers. It wasn't always Facel Vegas.

There is a section in my 'Connew Story' describing a journey with Francois Migault in 1972. For those with neither time nor desire to look for and read it, I will deliver a potted version here.

Francois owned an old BMW saloon. I cannot remember how old, but I am sure Moses was one of its previous owners. I had travelled in it a few times, short journeys, which were always carried out at fairly high speed and with little apparent attention paid to where the road went next!

However, when the quill shaft to the fuel injection system broke on our DFV during practice for the Rothman's 50,000 at Brands Hatch, I was despatched along with Francois to drive up to Cosworths in Northampton to get a new one. As we left the paddock Peter and Roger were loading up the car to take it back to our garage in order to strip down the top of the engine ready to fit the replacement.

There was a certain degree of hurry-up involved because we knew the sooner we got back to Chadwell Heath with the part, the quicker it could be put in and some sleep may be obtained before the following morning.

The ride began as a rather hair-raising experience (I had hair in those days!) and got worse. Anyone who knows any big city, even nearly 30 years ago, will know that traffic is a big problem. London in a Friday night rush-hour was as big a problem as anywhere, I guess. Except it was not a problem to Francois because he simply overtook it - all of it - everywhere - all the time.

The technique was simple; pull out to pass - pass - dive back in - and then do it all over again. Simple, you may exclaim. Er.... yes, but remember, I was sitting where the driver normally sits, so as he pulled out, I saw what was coming towards us - first. Believe me, everything was coming towards us - (me!); buses, lorries, taxis, etc etc etc. Francois' method was to frighten them into moving out of the way. I mean, no-one WANTS to have an accident and he just intmidated them into giving him room. It worked - over and over again.

Obviously, by the time we reached the northern suburbs of London, I was getting used to it....... was I hell, I was just as petrified as I had been half an hour earlier, if not more so. I mean, how long can one's luck hold out? Then, to make matters just a little more scary, he lost his brakes. I had noticed him pumping them for a while and enquired as to whether their might be a minor problem which may marginally impede our safe passage north. No, (Gallic shrug) no problem, it's just that the brake fluid is boiling!

Oh, fine, let's push on then.... By the time we reached Waltham Abbey there were no brakes left. Slowing down became a matter of yanking on the handbrake, which itself had an arc of movement of about 90 degrees! In the end I demanded that he stop. Which, to his credit, he did. I phoned Peter and he told me to come back and take the Escort van that Ford Motor Company had kindly lent us for the weekend. This I did, and quite enjoyed my journey, alone, up to Northampton and back.

So what did I learn from my 'drive' with 'Frankie'?

1. The one supreme fact that came through is that these guys have absolute and total faith in their own ability.

2. I could never be a racing driver.

With Grand Prix Drivers on the open road I think of Gilles Villeneuve driving from Monte Carlo to Fiorano and Back in merely 3 hrs. or so. (Giving Pironi driving lessons or just by himself).

When the outraged Italian police occasionally succeeded in halting him (by blocking the road obviously), their rage changed into sheer euforia when they saw it was Villa Nova.;)

Travelling all around the Eastern States of Australia to see race meetings, it was inevitable that sometimes I would get a lift with a driver or two.

Kevin Bartlett provided the most memorable ride, in 1964 taking Bob Levett and I to Lakeside (from Sydney) in Pedro Owen's EH Holden towing the TVR Grantura on a 2-wheel trailer.

We lost a trailer wheel near Hornsby, but that was the only hiccup on the journey. The skills he exhibited in 6-wheel drifting the whole rig though some of the bends on the Putty Road, and flicking the trailer into place in traffic were simply amazing.

Then there was the parking of the car in the under-motel carpark, his patrons, Jim and Carmen Maguire (owners of the Elfin Imp) looking on in disbelief as he flicked the car to and fro between the concrete pillars with valves bouncing in reverse gear!

Although not strictly about driving, a friend once told me the following anecdote about one of his friends.

In the late 1960's, the guy didn't own a car. Being a resourceful fellow, he hitchhiked for a ride to Tremblant, thinking he would make it as far as he could, but not really hoping. He was picked up by a small guy who drove a big Chevrolet. He spoke English with a funny accent. When asked where he was going, the driver said "St-Jovite", to the fan's delight. Here was an obvious fellow race fan. They talked about racing the whole way. When they reached the track, they said their goodbyes and went their separate ways.

The hiker later realized he had been picked up by Bruce McLaren.

Funnily enough, I can picture Bruce being like that... he was simply a nice guy.

Beyond public roads, but not on the track: A nice story I came across in connection to Stefan Bellof. The roads into Dijon-Prenois being heavily congested for the 1984 French Grand Prix, many grand prix folk were (on the point of being) delayed. Stefan did not participate in the agony as he steered his Porsche 911 through a farm gate, and proceeded to the circuit across ploughed fields....

Apparently Stirling Moss was a bit wreckless in his driving habits on the open road. Mike Hawthorn recalled asking Stirling's wife if Stirling had gotten better at open road driving before accepting a ride with him and his wife.

There is also the story of Stirling driving someone in a BMW Isetta around London and throwing the (only) door with steering wheel attached wide open.

Gil

Gil, and he writes in his 'All But My Life' about traveling from point A to B, averaging 60 (mph) without going over 70. Somehow, I don't get the feeling he scrubbed off much of his brakepads... On the other hand, I recall him writing how another driver scared the life out of him, while driving on the open road- might have even been Mike.

Same thing with Didier Pironi and Gilles Villeneuve. Pironi scared the beejezus out of Villeneuve. Villeneuve scared the beejezus out of everybody...

IIRC I remember reading when they were both driving for Dallara, Andrea de Cesaris and Alex Caffi wrote off a couple rental cars on the way to or back from spa. They were racing each other I think. The wild and crazy guys

Different approach.

I have read that Archie Scott Brown was the worst passenger anywhere. He would even wear his crash helmet in a road car. There is a picture of Archie as a passenger to Stirling Moss in MVE 303, the Lister Jaguar. You can just make out his helmet in the passenger seat. he is scrunched down so low that he can just see out of the car.

Gil Bouffard

This thread has fascinated me from its origins. Barry Boor's anecdote about riding with Francois Migault struck a particularly responsive chord. I had the good fortune to ride alongside some really great drivers - and for the most part they all drove just like Barry describes! But in thinking about it I realize that this exposure goes back to very early days.

The greatest thing in the world was to be the passenger with my father whether in one of his race cars (and he had some great ones - in those days you drove them on the road - even the Type 35 Bugatti!) or one of his Packards. In either case he drove them flat out all the time. I would ride alongside pretending to be the driver. I would make believe we were in the Mille Miglia and would play a game that we were in last place and had to pass every car on the road ahead of us. Depending on how long the trip was -–whether 10 miles or 300 miles – I would choose a number of cars that we were behind and with each pass we moved up a position. The idea was to be in first place when we got to wherever we were going. I likely never shared this fantasy with my father, but I never had to because his natural inclination was always to pass whoever was in front of him.

Although always acknowledged as a fine and fast driver, my father never has enjoyed the same recognition for his driving talent as he does for his organizational skills. But the truth is that for all his success in establishing road racing in America and bringing formula one racing here, his core is a natural driving talent that has few equals.

He was blindingly fast, utterly fearless, and possessed of a single-mindedness and self-confidence that had to be seen to be believed. He was also the smoothest and most comfortable person to ride with imaginable and inspired absolute confidence in all who rode with him. He simply had “it” in very large proportions. Still does!

This instinct for flat out motoring was not peculiar to my father, as I was to discover. Later, living in Europe, I had the opportunity to ride as passenger with a number of the great Grand Prix drivers of the era. Without fail they drove on the highway just like my father had when I was an adolescent. Balls to the wall – flat-out – in every situation. You didn’t have to be in a particular hurry to get anywhere. That’s just the way you drove. It was part of the conceit of being an ace. You just had it coming to you as a right. Roy Salvadori, Keith Greene, Jochen Rindt, John Surtees and Innes Ireland provided most of the opportunity for up close observation of high speed motoring European style and it all seemed very natural and correct to me. And it still does.

So these were my tutors – role models certainly – but, I mean here, quite literally teachers of speed. I started racing before there were schools for it and before coaching and such had been institutionalized in the sport, so I just picked up the technique and pace through observation. Most of it was just absorbed, but occasionally there were specific lessons given. My father once made the point to me that driving fast on the road did not give one the right to use the whole road. He told me that since I was going to pretend that the road was a racetrack, that I had to further pretend that the centerline on the highway (or the imaginary center line if necessary) was the absolute edge of the road. The other lane did not exist and all my lines and momentum had to be judged accordingly. It sounds like a simple thing but I have no doubt that it saved my life many times over.

But I also had the sense while observing these great drivers to ask a few questions and they were invariably willing to share their philosophy of speed as well as some very practical tips on specific situations.

Those experiences were just great and someday over a beer we will have to swap tales!

I love these reminiscences and insights into the greats of the past. To read these tales of how the drivers were away from the track is as entertaining, and probably even more enlightening, as reading of their exploits on the track.

I particularly liked this one comment from Mike: I think if I'd ridden with a few more people who not only thought like that, but had the wonderful skill of your father and the others you've been so incredibly lucky to ride with, then I wouldn't be such a nervous passenger.

regards

Neil

I remember reading the same story about Bellof - from the 1985 Autocourse tribute to Stefan and Manfred.

"he simply drove his porshce across ploughed fields, grinning all the way..."

I know one guy, who, after retiring, joined Brock Yates in a Ferrari Daytona and drove from downtown Manhattan to the Portofino Inn in Redondo Beach California in a mere 35 hours 54 minutes.

hehe

Graham "Tombstone" Shaw once took me along to "buff" up some tires on the Shelby Cobra 289 he was racing at the time. I was too excited to be as scared as I should have been. "Tombstone" was a piece of work and I only eneded up there since everyone else knew better. So on public roads in a race-prepared Cobra without a lick of sense (or minor items such as registration, plates, mufflers, etc.) "Tombstone" warmed up the Cobra by driving to the airfield a few blocks away (Owens Field) and then proceeded to blast up and down the runways. That it was about 11pm on a weekday night didn't faze "Tombstone." Needless to say, we were greeted by flashing lights (red back then) as we did another "lap" of the "circuit."

This was the same Cobra which "Tombstone" was to comprehensively crumple at Lake Garrett, Kanasas that Summer. The crash did "Tombstone" or the Cobra no good. However, I think he some got the message and stuck to real estate not longer after that. I have no idea what happened to the other Cobra he had. I always thought it was the better of the two.

Here's a stupid question:

What is a "trailing throttle"?

Another one. I assume it's related, but another term I've never gotten a hold of is "Trail Braking"?

aparently in the 20's and 30's it was not uncommon for the whole bugatti team to be dispatched from the works to a race on public roads...they were given provisional local registration numbers [in the name of ettore bugatti automobiles molsheim.] after the race the cars were sold to favored privateers and re-registered. it is not clear as to just who drove the cars,the team members or perhaps the mechanics;still de-bugging...either way it must have been a sight to the average peugeot driver of the time...imagine a trio of f1 ferraris heading down the autostrada today...bearing down on the family fiat!!!!!;)

Not stupid Steve the average driver would not have a clue what either are. I'm only slightly above average so my summaries could be technically wrong. I know what they are but I'm having trouble putting the concept into words, but I'll try!

Trailing throttle

This is where you come of the throttle in anticipation of braking the trick is not to come all the the way off thus closing the throttle you keep it slightly open to avoid lift off oversteer etc. The situation where you would do it would typically be a kink over a blind crest

Trail Braking

Normal braking involves braking in a straight line then turning in to the apex. Trail braking is where you smoothly come off the throttle and onto the brake all the way into the apex then when past the apex smoothly off the brake onto the power again. Much easier to do with left foot braking.

Thanks Bernd!

in my days of racing fiat-abarth record monzas[a rather tail heavy rear engined 750 cc gt]i could actually steer the car with the throttle only in a tight sweeping turn....with the steering held stable lifting would bring the tail out [trailing throttle oversteer]more throttle would bring it back...quite the opposite in my super seven[front engine rear drive]...where too much throttle in a turn will bring the rear around...and in quite a hurry if you're not paying attention!!!

While checking through the book “Goodyear 250 Wins” looking for an answer to the qualifying tyre query on another thread, I came across this story from Leo Mehl.

Leo Mehl puts the pace of improvement (of road tyres) into sharp perspective by a tale involving Jochen Rindt during the summer of 1968: ‘It was a free day between final qualifying and the race at the French Grand Prix at Rouen. Jochen had planted his Brabham-Repco on pole position, but wasn’t very confident about it lasting more than a few laps on the Sunday, so he took me off to Paris to do the full tourist bit on the Saturday. We came home pretty late in Jochen’s Porsche 911, running absolutely flat out on the road, when I started to become worried about this clunking sound.

‘I said to Jochen, “What on earth’s wrong?” and he just shrugged, replying, “It’s those bloody tyres again, they’re always chunking like that …” I looked over to the instruments and the speedometer was off the clock at what looked like 130 mph, then there was another big clunk and I shouted, “Jochen, stop the car!”

‘So we pulled over and got out and, would you believe, the whole inside shoulder had come away. I said, “Good grief!” …or something like that, while Rindt simply stood there muttering, “I’ve tried every tyre in the world and they’re all junk.” I should point out that thses were not Goodyears, incidentally!

I realised that these guys drove like that as a matter of routine, so I went back and enquired whether we had anything up to that sort of job, only to find that we had nothing really rated for more than 100 mph. Now there are any number of tyres rated for 125 mph.

Ayrton Senna was once stopped by a Britsih policeman on his way to the British GP at Silverstone as he had driven way too fast.
policeman:Who do you think you are? Nigel Mansell?
Senna: No, Ayrton Senna...

This morning I think I've spent one hour reading this very interesting thread. Although I'm relatively new on this board I believe I have some information that has been left out on the subject of driving techniques.

To be able to drive without using the brakes when slowing down you have to work with the gears. Instead of braking you use the engine brake by changing down as you approach a slower moving veichle.

This is the technique I'm using and I can tell you that it's the way to drive todays formula cars. To be quick you have to optimize your minimum speed. This is easiest done by braking less.

For a racing driver it's the natural way of driving, everything else (hard braking, etc) will make you loose speed and time. I'd say it's all about absorbing energy.

That's right, Wrid, on the road... I think I said that in my post about saving the brake pads on my car.

But in racing, carrying your end-of-the-straight speed as far as possible means the braking for the ensuing corners will always be hard braking.

I wonder how many of them turn the traction control of now?

Of course, Jim Clark was infamously a ditherer in a road car.

Tony Bailey's excellent Mike Hawthorn book tells us that Mike never ever drove slowly on the public roads; merely with marginally less abandon when carrying certain passengers.

Back in 1969 I was leaving Silverstone on Friday evening to return to the hotel when the car in front (a big black Ford) didn't move when the traffic in front set off. I sat there for about 5 or 6 seconds and then gave the driver a long blast on the horn. He turned round and waved apologetically and swiftly drove off. I felt somewhat embarassed as it was my hero Jochen Rindt. He turned out of Silverstone in the same direction as me and was gone in an instant!

I am not so sure Jim Clark was a "ditherer" on the road as I travelled with him on many occasions. On one occasion he did have a moment when driving on his own which has been inflated quite a bit in frequent telling but normally he took as much care on the road as he did when flying his plane. He was absolutely meticulous when flying.
I have often told the story about when we were compiling his autobiography and we had been at a dinner following the opening of the Scottish Motor Show in Glasgow . It was November, cold with a hint of snow and we were returning from Glasgow to the farm with Ian in the back seat. The car was Colin Chapman's Ford Galaxie and as it was 3.00 am with Scottie asleep in the back the car suddenly swerved at about 120 mph on the long straight heading for the village of Pathead. Clark immediatly smothered the slide but Scott Watson sat bolt upright and shouted "ice". Jim Clark was not sure but suggested Scott Watson go back to sleep but as we entered Pathead and climed up the hill through the village Clark looked up at the sky and said, it might be ice, and put his foot on the accelerator. We were doing about 30 mph at the time and the Galaxie gently slide sideways uphill. Jim then turned to Ian and said, " you're right".