The first time I recall sitting in a racing car was as a child at the BRM works at Bourne, England, this would be in the late 1970s. It was one of the then-current F1 cars, the Rotary Watches Stanley BRM P207. This would be toward the end of the life of the team. The opportunity arose because my father, Rick Hall, worked at BRM as an engineer. I remember meeting the drivers of the day too, Larry Perkins and Conny Andersson. The thing I recollect most about Conny was his huge hands…they were massive. Little did I know what that first sit in a car would lead to! I don’t recall meeting Louis Stanley at that particular time, that came later in my life. Many may think it would be a simple progression for me from leaving school to go straight into mechanical engineering, but actually I became a plumber, gaining my City and Guilds qualifications and working for my uncle. From there I went to Australia for a few months working on a cattle station—this was for a customer of Dad’s and a good friend of the family, Brian Auger, who’d emigrated from Norfolk, England. Brian had had a good number of racing cars, including a Ford GT40, Gulf Mirage, a McLaren M8 and M9, some really nice cars, which he sold while here in the UK. Visa issues made me return to the UK after around my initial six-month stay.
My racing began in karting and later with an MGB GT, competing in MGB Car Club events, and my first racing sponsorship came from a family friend. He had a double-glazing company, he’d let me have “2½” toward my season’s racing. I initially understood it was to be for £2,500, but after a protracted period of negotiation found it was for just £250!! In anticipation of the windfall I’d spent nearly £180 on some big stickers for the car, when reality struck I had just £70 left—a life lesson learned. I raced the MGB for a couple of years and won a few trophies and a championship along the way. Now working for my father building and maintaining racing cars, I’d rebuilt a Tecno F3 car, with a 1,000-cc “screamer” engine. On completion I was told “you’ve built it, you may as well drive it.” I tested it and that really was the start of what I do today. I went on to race the car in some HSCC events and enjoyed the competition.
In 1990, I had an opportunity of going for a scholarship in the national Formula Vauxhall Lotus Championship. Tom Wheatcroft had arranged a sort of “shoot-out” between me, Kelvin Burt and Thomas Erdos. We went to Donington and used a school car from Jim Russell. Peter Hardman, the champion for the 1989 series, was asked to set a time, our aim was to beat it. The top two drivers would get the scholarships. All three of us beat the time set, but Kelvin and me were the two fastest drivers of the day and got the scholarships to compete in the 1990 series. The 1990 series threw up some good drivers like David Coulthard, Gil de Ferran, Rubens Barrichello, Pedro Lamy and Vincenzo Sospiri, all of whom went on to achieve bigger and better things. I think I finished the season 9th in the championship. Given the quality of the competitors, I’d say the best for many a year, I was really satisfied with my performance.
With racing, I’ve learned it’s all about concentration and slowing your mind down. Slowing things down allows a driver to absorb more information. I liken it to driving on a motorway, when you’ve been driving for a period of time at 70-80 mph and you come off onto a 30 mph road you feel you could walk quicker. Your mind seems to absorb every detail. With racing you have to slow your mind down while at speed. I remember testing at Mallory Park, the first laps were quite daunting, there wasn’t time to breathe. As the season progressed, it became easier and easier. I’d be looking for an extra gear to go faster—it’s a question of your brain being used to particular circumstances. The really top drivers like Senna and Schumacher have the mental capacity to slow things down to a point where they only use say, 60 percent on driving and the rest is used for racecraft and strategy. Other drivers would need 80-90 percent just for driving, leaving just a small percentage for racing. This is what separates a racing driver from a champion.
One of my first F1 drives was in a BRM P201, in 1994. I’d built the car and took it to the Croix-en-Ternois circuit, just a few miles from Arras, in Northern France. We were re-uniting Jean-Pierre Beltoise with the car he drove in period. Driving alongside and being in the company of this French legend was a great honor.
Working with customers includes making sure the car is fit for the track and ensuring the customer gets the best from their car too. We usually set cars up with a little bit of understeer, so the back end doesn’t drift out. We progress the setup from there. I can advise them how they can maybe shave a little time off here and there. I spend time at circuits driving around the infield on a scooter just watching them drive through different corners and parts of the track, seeing how they brake, the line they take and so on. It’s very satisfying assisting them to knock a few seconds off of their times. I think they respect my opinion and are grateful for the help. While we don’t use telemetry as such, we do use cameras to see how particular drivers take a lap. Again, if we feel we can offer good advice to help with driving technique and racing, we do. If they’re able to drive quicker and quicker and quicker the car makes a little more “sense” to them. This enjoyment puts big smiles on faces. We have many who have been with us for 20 years, or more. This little extra help establishes great customer relationships.
Over the years, I’ve got great satisfaction driving cars that not many others have driven—like those from the Collier Collection, probably one of the best car collections in the world. Customer cars too have been a great opportunity for me to drive others too, like the Matras—from F1 to sports cars—with powerful and raucous V12 engines. Some companies are a little skeptical about working on complicated V12 engines, but they don’t cause us many issues as several members of staff, like my father, are from the original BRM F1 team. Yes, there’s more cylinders, more weight and more fuel than the normal V8 DFV, but we manage to keep on top of those problems. I think we run more V12 cars than any other similar works in the UK.
We hear a lot about historic racing being contrived, but to me most of it is pure nonsense. Those of us who are doing it well tend to be at the front of the grid—no matter what car. We have invested a great deal of time and money, possibly more than was done in period. Others, who don’t have that same opportunity of time and money will find themselves nearer the back of the grid—as would have happened in period. You tend to find those who are rewarded in historic racing are those that put the most into historic racing—it’s the same for any racing series. Of course, we know much more than we did about racing cars several decades ago. Some feel just throwing money at something is the answer, but there has to be knowledge, too. It’s foolish to think you could simply buy a car and immediately become competitive.
Today, historic racing is very much a growth industry. I look at modern F1 and feel there is something missing, something not quite right. I look at the “on-board” footage and think I could do as good a job as they do. I used to think “how do they drive like that?” It’s not just me, blokes down the pub are saying it too. There is something wrong with F1 that urgently needs putting right. Moto GP, bike racing leaves me in awe of the talent the riders have—if only they could get that back to F1. I think historic racing is very competitive and the public can get among both cars and drivers. Many modern professional drivers, especially those I race with at the Goodwood Revival, are shocked and amazed at the level of ability there is among regular historic racers. I think they have many preconceptions and are caught out. Historic racing has many passionate and capable drivers these days—long may it live!
As told to Mike Jiggle