|
Australia has a passion for motorsport and it stems from what they’ve built in their own backyard. They love the fact that Holden, although part of the General Motors group, was once an independent motor company and, even to this day, it's treated as such by its die-hard supporters. They celebrate the powerful V8 engine with vigour, something most Australian motorsport fans believe is an Aussie icon, propelling “V8 Supercars” along Conrod Straight at Bathurst each year. This is where Holden battles with Ford for supremacy to collect the “King of the Mountain” trophy and the spoils of victory.
The “V8 Supercars” racing series, held as a series of events throughout Australia, achieves greater viewing figures than Formula 1 coverage in Australia. Why? Because it’s something that represents real cars and real history than real people can connect with. It seems that every wananbe racing driver in Australia once drove a V8. And you still can.
If 8 cylinders doesn’t cut the mustard, there’s still plenty of car racing to choose from in Australia. Porsche Cup through to Formula Vee, probably the world’s cheapest form of motorsport that utilises classic VW Beetle components bolted to a racing chassis, engage a quality field both on and off the race track.
 
Then there’s the hill climbs. Hill climbing isn’t circuit racing. Some of you may have attended the Goodwood Festival of Speed and seen hill climbing from the other side of a straw bale. Simply put, you start at the bottom of a hill and head upwards. To make it a little more difficult there are plenty of bends to ensure drivers get thrown from side to side and ultimately the top speed of the competitor’s cars is never attained, all in the line of safety.
Hill climbs happen throughout Australia, at an amateur level through to a professional one, where the cars resemble Formula 1 stock of a few years ago. These low geared machines enjoy immense acceleration on the short straights and gorilla like grip through the corners. To see such cars in action is to understand what hill climb motorsport, at a professional level, is all about and why the difference in lapsed times is measured in tenths of a second.
Hill climb competitors are represented in different classes. Sometimes its year of manufacture (car, not driver!) and there’s also the engine capacity configurations. This is where it gets really interesting. If you break the field into too many categories the field of competitors within each becomes too sparse, and since hill climbs are enjoyed by many clubs it seems more appropriate to invite a lot of cars and make them all race against the clock together and then divide the field up into just a few categories so as not to spoil the fun. It works too, and out of the garages across Australia people are seen loading their racing pride and joys onto the back of trailers and heading for a weekend’s racing.
The “Historic Noosa Hill Climb” happens each year in November and is organised by the Noosa Beach Classic Car Club. The event takes place in a forested area, with a road that runs through and up the twisty hill side. At the start there are the pits. These are little more than quick shade canopies on a dusty make-do field. It’s great. If the dust doesn’t get to you the heat will. And if it rains, well, that’s life. Part of the fun of this event is the open pit area and the simplicity of it. Get your cameras out because there are some great details to see here and you really can speak to the drivers and the crews (aka best mates, family, etc.). That’s what is so good about hill climbs; most of the participants are people like you and me. So much so that the sport rubs off on you and it’s not long before you think that maybe there’s room for you in this sport.
It was one of those stinking hot and dusty days in the forest, peering over crests and around bends to catch a glimpse of yet another fast classic or hill climb special. $15 bought you a day ticket (Saturday) and $20 for a weekend. For that you got access to the pits and a romp up and down a dusty track to the various viewing points. The sun was strong, the air was dry and the insects were buzzing and in need of a drink. There was a total smoking ban. Here, in high regard for the surroundings, spectators were asked not to light up amongst the crisp vegetation. Clearly the verbal ear bashing every so often on the tannoy (I did not see any visual warning signs) worked well, for I only saw one chap light up all day – idiot. In most hi-calibre motorsport activity, unburnt fuel is deposited through the exhaust system and due to the lack of a decent extinguisher in that department, is emitted as a roar of flame. I didn’t see a single car spout anything more than a cloud of blue or black smoke during
the period. Impressive, considering the horse-power and noise that some of these cars were producing.
The course runs for just 1.5km through the state forest and competitors have to negotiate a total of 14 turns whilst driving up hill. Sure, we’d all love to see the cars race up a straight bit of road and reach top speed but that's too easy. This is a test of driver skill, fast acceleration, precise steering, last minute braking and back on the gas again, and since this was a ‘classic car’ event, you can bet your bottom dollar that the brakes and steering were as pin sharp as the mind-set to negotiate the course without the merest scratch in a decent time.
Practice session on the Saturday netted one unfortunate competitor who barrel rolled the family’s classic Mini. I didn’t see it but those that did reported that it wasn’t very nice and the driver was a little shaken up. I should say! That weekend quite a few drivers nailed the concrete barriers. The total damage must have been… Oh, I don’t want to think about it. I saw several cars in the pits on Saturday after about five hours of racing and they weren’t what you’d call pretty. Most had front end damage and I distinctly remember seeing two middle aged gentlemen knocking the crap out of a front wing that had collapsed under pressure from an impact with a concrete barrier and hermetically sealed itself around the left front tyre.
For those that did make it up the hill, and there were plenty, the prize was the fact that they’d achieved the near impossible and completed a course at speeds that made it almost impassable, if you get my drift, and if you achieved all this in around 56 seconds, well, you were almost in a class of your own. ‘In the fifties’ is the domain of the really fast cars like hill climb specials, fibreglass race pods and extravagant Porsches. For the less well healed, life strapped in your fast classic was just as competitive and probably more so with a larger field to do battle with. I bet no one was running cross-ply tyres on the day.
Who won what, in what class and by how much is academic. Competition runs over the weekend and most people I saw were wearing one day yellow wrist passes. Mine was a weekender blue. Motorsport at this level and in these surroundings is all about the thrill of taking part and the thrill of hearing the thunderous roar of V8s and the ear-splitting buzz of little four cylinder cars producing enough power relative to the car’s weight to out spurt some of the heavier V8 classics. There was even a V12 Jag racing! Enjoy the pics, the spectacle and the speed. Just close your eyes for a moment and think that its 32 degrees, there’s little in the way of a breeze, there's the buzz and bite of a few flies and then you hear the blat of a car exhaust as whatever it was passes you before crunching down a gear and squealing around one of the tight tarmac teasers. Gripping stuff!
Story and Pics: Clive Collins
|
