Scale

Yesterday, I posted a pic which made a tongue-in-cheek reference to a car’s size relative to the human who might drive it:

…and while this Alfa Berlina is not a small car, others of the era certainly are, even though if viewed without some perspective they might seem quite large.

Here’s an example of what I’m talking about.

I have always loved the concept of Bizzarrini cars:  their breathtaking design, their powerful (American) engines and of course, the astounding automotive engineering skill of Giotto Bizzarrini himself.

Here’s the 1967 Bizzarrini 5300 Strada model:

Now I think we can all agree that this is a gorgeous car, and the 400bhp Corvette engine under the hood doesn’t hurt its appeal, either.  The problem is that the long hood makes the car look quite big — “Corvette big”, even — but when put into perspective, the Strada is anything but:

Now that we’ve established the actual size of the thing, here’s a trio of different Bizzarini Strada models and colors:

…and its interior isn’t at all displeasing:

Finally, allow me to show you the Strada’s racing stablemate, the P538 (which won its class at Le Mans in 1965 and placed ninth overall):

It is not good for this old man’s heart to look upon such things.  I think the word is “palpitations”, and I got ’em.

The 1750

Most men like powerful cars (e.g. Jeremy Clarkson:  “POWWWWERRRRRR!”), and among the power-hungry there is a common thought nowadays that a 3-liter six-cylinder engine is the basic starting-point for any performance car, and four-cylinder engines are inferior (hence nicknames like “four-banger” and the like).

Not so.

Back in the late 1960s, Alfa Romeo came up with a four-cylinder engine of only 1,779 cubic centimeters (actually rounded down to the 1750 nomenclature, unlike the standard Italian exaggeration) which was an absolute screamer.  So efficient and racy was it that they used the same engine across all their “105” chassis models;  the GT Veloce:

…the Spyder:

…and even the Berlina sedan model (with a human figure, for scale):

Ahem.

I’ve driven all three, and not once did I ever say to myself, “Oh, if only this were a 3-liter six!”

The point was that all three models were lightweights, and the four-cylinder engine was perfectly adequate for the task — which in each model was to go fast, and they did.  And in normal Alfa Romeo fashion, they went through corners as though on rails, and the peppy little four-banger engine and five-speed short-throw gearbox made every trip an adventure.

Provided that they started, or didn’t lose non-essential parts like rearview mirrors, door handles and what-have-you along the way.  (I once had the experience of the interior mirror coming off in my hand as I was adjusting it.)

I also once drove a Marauder (Lotus 7 knock-off) equipped with the 1750 engine.  Now the Alfa GTV was no heavyweight, coming in at just around a ton, but the fiberglass-bodied Marauder could be lifted with ease by only two men, and carrying no weight at all, so to speak, the 1750 engine was a monster.  I actually lifted off the throttle at the end of the Kyalami racetrack straight, whereas with the GTV I’d always been able to keep the pedal to the floor to make the first right-hand corner.

Four-banger?  Sheesh.  (Of course, the main reason for a four-cylinder-engined car’s poor performance nowadays has nothing to do with the lack of powerpower, but with the extra weight that has to be added to all cars because of all the safety regulations that have been mandated by Nanny Gummint since the 1970s.  But I won’t discuss that topic further as I’ve just finished clearing up the wreckage from my last RCOB episode.)

I love the 105 Alfa Romeos and their 1800cc engines, all of them.  I would drive one today quite happily.

Vanishing Point

I have spoken often of my distaste for much of modern life, and here’s just one more thing to make me want to pack a picnic lunch and an assault rifle, and go find a tall building somewhere.

Sadly, the end of the manual transmission is near, and the unfortunate truth is few people will miss it. Most young adults don’t know how to drive a vehicle with a manual transmission, and they aren’t interested in learning. Many modern automatics offer better fuel efficiency and quicker acceleration than their manual counterparts. Porsche now delivers 75% of its 718 and 911 sports cars with automatic transmissions. The new C8 Corvette is only available with one. When the stick shift loses Porsche and Corvette buyers, you know it’s quickly heading for the rearview mirror.

But it gets worse.

In the future, cars won’t only be automatics; it appears they’ll increasingly be automated, electric vehicles. The satisfying throbbing of the exhaust and the pleasure of driving will also become victims of progress. Traveling in a personal vehicle will be as exciting as riding in an elevator with windows.

And this guy adds his take, talking about

the dystopian future in which you’ll sit passively in your computer-driven car with government-mandated speed limits and instantly-revocable travel permissions programmed in.

In the next year or so I’ll be needing to get a new car because the old Tiguan has north of 115,000 miles under its belt.  Don’t be surprised if I get something with a stick shift (assuming I can find one, and even if it does limit my choices), if for no other reason than to shake my fist at the Empire.

  

And just let some future asshole government mandate “smart” guns with chips embedded so that they can be “controlled” by some central source — essentially, the same principle as automated cars.

At that point, my prospective trip up to the rooftops won’t just be a joke anymore.

Different Focus

Gentle Readers, I bring you the old:

2018 Maserati Gran Turismo

…and its replacement, the new:

2021 Maserati MC20

Now I know that they are, in essence, two different cars.  The older GT is a tourer (Gran Turismo) after all, and while it is very fast, it’s neither a racer nor a supercar — both of which are what the MC20 is going to be.  Indeed, the MC 20 heralds the (long-overdue) return of Maserati to racing, which means that they’ll be competing with the likes of Ferrari, Porsche, Lamborghini and Corvette in Group B racing, maybe even at Le Mans (but in 2022 and not 2021, I suspect).

The MC20, therefore, is Maserati’s first real “supercar” since the Ghibli of the late 1960s and early 70s:

…although it too was strictly speaking a tourer — I don’t think it was ever raced — but at the time, there were only a few cars which compared to it.

(I know, there was the MC12, but that was never going to be a street car, really, no matter how hard they tried to make it so:

…and the $2 million-plus sticker didn’t help much.)

But it’s a new dawn, now.

I can’t wait to see the MC20 racing, and Maserati racing again.  Presto, ragazzi.

Although like all supercars, it’s going to be hell in the parking lot:

Don’t care.  Details are here.

Kim’s Back Yard

Following yesterday’s post which mocked the British ideal of “dream garden”, here are my own (ranked) top ten desirable backyard features:

1. four-bay 25-yard air-conditioned indoor pistol range
2. 100-yard rifle range with back stop and shaded shooting benches
3. sporting clays area, with six or more stations
4. six-car garage
5. climate-controlled storage shed for ammo and sundry shooting supplies (maybe backing off one of the ranges) with a decent reloading setup inside
6. outdoor kitchen with both charcoal- and gas grills, including a bar counter
7. woodworking shop, e.g. Norm Abrams’s “New Yankee Workshop”
8. swimming pool
9. surrounding the entire back yard with a couple extra corners thrown in, a go-kart track which could accommodate grownup cars e.g. a Caterham 500
10. Guest house where my friends could stay for their (probably weekly) play dates.

Okay, the race track is possibly something of an overreach, but not necessarily.

As for the “garden” idea… meh.  Patio or deck with pool and BBQ grill, no lawn.  Pots with artificial flowers.

Stuck In The Old Ways

As any fule kno, I am hopelessly old-fashioned, mired in the past (although I would prefer the latter to read “well-rooted”) and in general, an unbending foe of Most Things Modern.

In yesterday’s post about the non-spectator event formerly known as The Masters, I got sidetracked by following a train of thought along a branch line, all about driving a fast car around the exquisite Spa-Francorchamps race track.

…the “fast car” of choice being the excellent Caterham / Lotus 7:

This led to a side discussion in Comments, as these things generally do, during which Longtime Friend and Reader Nevikoff said:

“But… I think I’d pick something other than a Lotus 7 for it.  True, the thing handles like an overgrown go-kart (about which I have, shall we say, “some advanced information”) and the true agony comes not from driving it but assembling one from a kit (don’t ask), but given that some spectacular Ferraris, Maseratis and the like have graced these pages, I’d think choosing from that list would be preferable.”

All good points.  Here’s my thinking on the topic:

I grant you that there may be better cars than the Caterham / Lotus 7 for a joyride around Spa, but being the conservative Ole Phartte that I am, I would prefer to race around that track in the manner of Fangio and Moss rather than Vettel and Verstappen (or even Lotterer and Sarrazin).

For that reason, I choose the Lotus, because it’s the closest thing to this:

…which, while it is quite possibly the most beautiful F1 car ever to race, would probably kill me at the first corner.

So the Caterham it is;  although if there are dark clouds in the sky — and it always rains at Spa — I might reserve the right to exchange the 7 for something with an actual roof (not a ragtop), not only for the cover from the rain, but also for the added protection it would afford me when I spin off at Eau Rouge (3 minute video).

For that, there’s only one car I’d consider for the task (as rebuilt and modernized by these guys):

Why modernized, Kim?  I hear you ask.

Because I’d like to complete at least one circuit of the track without the thing breaking down.  And in the rain and gloom, I’d also like the lights and windshield wipers to work at the same time, which is generally not possible with the original

…as installed by Lucas Electrical, the “Prince of Darkness”.

I might be old-fashioned, but I’m not that romantic.

And in Comments, let’s hear your ideal car for a jaunt around Spa, with reasons.