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Last
year at this meet Bob had just purchased this car from a gentleman by
the name of Phil Cade. This particular Maserati is a 1935 Tipo
V8Ri, Chassis 4501. It was brought to this country in 1937 to
compete in the Vanderbilt Cup but was withdrawn because of dispute over
commissions in the purchase. The car was entered at Indy with
George Robson but DNQ'd in 1939. After the war the car was entered
at Indy from 1946 through 1949 and never did manage to make the race.
Phil
Cade purchased it and raced it in SCCA events up until sometime in the
early 1960's; at some point prior to 1960 he pulled out the original V8
and installed an early Chrysler Hemi, complete with four two barrel
Stromberg 97 carbs on a log manifold. (I believe Bob told me that
the original Maserati engine is now installed in "Poisin Lil",
another Maserati more well known than Bob's car.)
When
Bob found the car it was still sitting on its trailer in the carriage
shed where it had been parked over forty years ago. When I first
saw it last year, it had been washed. Other than that it was just
as it was last raced. And sadly, Phil Cade passed away shortly
after selling the wonderful old racecar to Bob. For
this season there are some new tires, all the rubber lines have
been replaced, the carbs and brakes rebuilt and a tune-up along
with another wash job and a coat of wax.
Man,
does that old Hemi sound nice. Unfortunately, the car had a
vibration problem on the track. I asked Bob if he could drive
through the vibration; his reply, "Not anymore, too old to try
that now." But I felt quite privileged to be there to see
this wonderful piece of racing history take its first laps in over forty
years.
The
nicest part of the whole deal was being included in the discussion
about the vibration and invited to stop at the shop anytime to waste
some time talking cars and indulging in some of the story telling we
oldtimers like to refer to as "bench racing". Didn't
someone say that, "The older we get the faster we were"?
Naw, racers would never stretch the truth. At least not beyond the
point of tearing the fabric of it. It's sort of like all this talk
lately about cheating. We all know it just isn't so.
I
must say that the sight of over fifty midgets and sprint cars lined up
two abreast on the pit road here at NHIS, the line stretching from the
start/finish line back to the garage entrance at the exit of turn four
is something everyone should be able to enjoy. A veritable rainbow
of colors and polished chrome glittering in the bright summer sunlight.
The
sounds of a bunch of Offy's, along with the rasp of a few V8 -
60's, and the raspy snarl of a beautifully restored Pop Dreyer, Elto
powered midget. A bunch of us old guys deafened by that snarl,
passing around an opened can of Caster Oil, sniffing it like a bunch of
coke-heads sniffing their white powder.
I
have to wonder if the tear or two, which no one noticed nor paid
attention to, was just from the smoke and smell of methanol and hot
rubber? Of course, a memory or two might have come back, maybe a
special race, maybe a special friend, or just maybe?
Then
there were a couple of Indy roadsters, those fantastic dinosaurs from
the middle of the last century which ruled the track until the advent of
rear engines and wings. They're still a sight to behold at speed
on a mile track. Thank God that there are still a few left so
that at least another generation may see what real race cars look like.
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