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In 1949, Giovanni Michelotti embarked on his freelance career, marking the beginning of a successful journey in automotive design. With the establishment of the "Laboratorio Automodelli" in Turin in 1959, he created a hub of innovation that would give rise to legendary prototypes. Architect Edgardo Michelotti sheds light on this pivotal moment in Carrozzeria Michelotti’s history and its impact on the automotive world . Words Edgardo Michelotti Photos and drawings Archivio Storico Michelotti (http://www.archiviostoricomichelotti.it/) I had the privilege of witnessing the most significant years of my father Giovanni Michelotti’s career up close, and I am here to recount a crucial moment that marked his professional evolution: the founding of his coachbuilding firm. Reflecting on those years and revisiting the drawings of the vehicles created during that time constantly reaffirms for me how essential that period was—not just for our family but for the entire automotive design world. After twelve years working at Stabilimenti Farina (1936-1948), where he honed his craft and learned the importance of detail, in 1949 he made a life-altering decision: to embark on an independent career as a freelance designer. He was just 28 years old but already had a clear vision of what he wanted to achieve. Over the next fifteen years, he collaborated with nearly all of Turin's coachbuilders—a city that, during the 1950s and '60s, was the epicentre of automotive innovation. I recall his discussions with the great names of the era, where they would spend hours talking about shapes, curves, and aerodynamic solutions. Michelotti had a deep affection for Turin, a city that provided him with the challenges and opportunities he needed to express his creativity. In 1957, he experienced a major turning point. He began working as a consultant for leading international car manufacturers such as BMW, Standard Triumph, Prince, Ford, and Alpine. Not long after, in 1965, the Dutch company DAF also joined his client list, which I will cover in a future article. He wasn’t content with simply creating something beautiful; he focused on functional, modern solutions that appealed to international tastes. It was during this time that he realised the importance of having dedicated spaces for developing prototypes destined for major manufacturers. Previously, these projects were entrusted to trusted coachbuilders like Vignale and Allemano, but there was always the risk that his designs could be seen and copied. He decided to open his own "Laboratorio Automodelli" at Via Levanna 2 in Turin. This workshop, staffed by seven master craftsmen, became a nerve centre for creativity and innovation. Each team member had a specific role: panel beaters, welders, and assemblers worked in synergy to bring the designer's ideas to life. It was a space dedicated to creating prototypes for discerning clients who aspired to "stand out" with special vehicles. That same year, he also relocated his design and styling studio from our family home on Corso Duca degli Abruzzi to a penthouse on the eleventh floor of a building on Corso Francia—a space that offered both privacy and a perfect environment for work. From his studio, he enjoyed breathtaking views of the entire Alpine range surrounding Piedmont, a panorama often mentioned in his conversations as a source of reflection and inspiration. The studio quickly became one of the most important in Europe, attracting interest from car manufacturers seeking innovative and functional solutions. My father loved sharing his passion with young talent, encouraging them to experiment and bring their ideas to life in an environment where learning and creativity naturally intertwined. Under his guidance, embryonic concepts, colourful sketches, and shape plans took form and transformed into complete automotive projects. In his atelier, prototypes that would shape automotive history were born, the result of a collaborative and inspired creative process. One of the most significant prototypes produced during those years was the Fiat Osca coupé, presented at the Paris Motor Show in 1959 and at Geneva in 1960. The car, with its modern front and "pagoda" roof, became a reference for many manufacturers. The Lancia Fulvia coupé, designed by Piero Castagnero in 1963, borrowed many stylistic elements from the Osca, while the Mercedes 230 SL, with its pagoda roof, unveiled that same year at the Geneva Motor Show, confirmed the success of Michelotti’s innovation. My father often recounted an episode linked to the Osca Coupé: French journalist Alain Bertaut initially criticised the roof design, but Michelotti made a deal with him. If other manufacturers adopted the design, Bertaut would publicly acknowledge Michelotti as the originator. And so it happened—Mercedes adopted the pagoda style, and Bertaut kept his promise. It was a time when intellectual honesty still held great value. Another important chapter in his career was marked by his involvement in racing. During the 1960s, track and hill-climb racing was highly popular, and my father contributed to the creation of models like the Triumph Le Mans coupé and the Alfa Romeo Giulietta Sprint Veloce, both prepared by Virgilio Conrero. I clearly remember Carlo Peroglio, the driver of the latter, telling us about his feats at Monza, where the Alfa Romeo, mainly driven by Peroglio, surpassed the Alfa Abarth Zagato at a speed of 222 km/h. This success did not go unnoticed: Carlo Abarth called my father in and asked him what he had "put inside" the car to make it so fast. The answer was clear and direct—it was all down to aerodynamics and lightness. Among the most significant collaborations with Triumph, in addition to defining the style of some of the brand’s most iconic models, such as the Spitfire, Herald, and TR4, an important chapter was the creation of the Le Mans coupé, a model developed specifically for endurance racing. This car represented the perfect synthesis of elegance and performance—qualities that Michelotti masterfully combined. Michelotti never ceased to innovate. Another example of his genius was the prototype on a Maserati 5000 GT chassis created for Briggs Cunningham. The retractable pop-up headlights were a true innovation for the time, once again demonstrating his ability to anticipate automotive design trends. Today, these vehicles remain in the hands of collectors in Switzerland and the United States, and they are still fully functional. The exhibition "Giovanni Michelotti: Genie et Élégance," held in Aigle, Switzerland, in 2022, paid tribute to the centenary of his birth. The Alfa Romeo Conrero, one of the models on display, still stands as a testament to his ability to create cars that harmoniously combined beauty and performance. About tha author Edgardo Michelotti: Born in 1952, I hold a diploma as a surveyor and pursued a degree in Architecture in Turin. I began working alongside my father in 1973 until his illness and passing in early 1980. I continued his work until 1991, when I transitioned away from the automotive industry. For the next 15 years, I focused on industrial design, while also engaging in photography and archival digitization from 2003 to the present. This allowed me to manage an extensive archive, including the specific cataloging and complete digitization of approximately 6,000 graphic units, 20,000 photographs, 7,000 kg of full-scale design plans, as well as scale models, tools, correspondence, and periodicals. The archive spans over three decades, covering the 1950s, 60s, and 70s.

The story, known previously to only a handful, of an Alfa Romeo test driver and racer who walked away from the sport directly after winning the Italian and European titles in one of the most prestigious car championships. Words by Mario Simoni. Photos by Centro Documentazione Alfa Romeo , Foto Alquati Milano , Quattroruote, Leone Pelachin Archive, Mario Simoni Archive. From 1976 to 1983, hundreds of skilled drivers participated in the Alfa Romeo Promotional Trophy – a series of races held on circuits across half of Europe. In those championships, two young drivers who later rose to Formula 1 fame took part, the Spaniard Luis Perez Sala and the even more famous Gerhard Berger. Monza, Imola, Zeltweg, Nürburgring, Paul Ricard, Zandvoort, and Hockenheim were just some of the racetracks. In front of hundreds of thousands of Formula 1 spectators, real battles took place in the pursuit of the Alfasud and Alfa Sprint Continental Titles. Of those drivers duking it out, Leone Pelachin – in his Alfa Romeo – always stood out for his sportsmanship and gentlemanliness. These were the years in which Alfa Romeo regained its prestige in the world of racing thanks to the skill of a great technician like engineer Chiti and the capabilities of a racing team like Autodelta. In 1975, it had just won the World Championship for Makes with the 33TT12 and entered Formula 1, supplying its 12-cylinder engine to Brabham from '76 to '79. Also in 1979, Alfa returned to the World Championship as a constructor, where it remained as a team until 1983. The awareness that competitions were the best business card to win over sports clientele led, in those years, to focusing on a racing version of the best-selling and most popular Alfa Romeo sedan, the Alfasud. Thus, in 1976, the Alfasud Trophy was born, reserved for the racing version of the coupé birthed in ‘72 by Rudolf Hruschka – one of the most skilled technicians in automotive history who had started his career at Porsche and Cisitalia. In Hruschka’s Alfasud project, a sporting soul was imbued in the compact two-volume sedan, equipped with an excellent front-wheel-drive chassis (the first in Quadrifoglio's history) and a 4-cylinder boxer engine capable of optimizing weight distribution, but above all with great potential for sporting use. For the engineers at Autodelta, tasked with developing the kit that would transform the comfortable Alfasud into a real racing car, the task was not the most challenging. There are few drivers who, without a "father" or a sponsor behind them, have managed to reach Formula 1. Among them, it's worth mentioning Consalvo Sanesi and the great Lorenzo Bandini, who went from being a simple mechanic to an unlucky Ferrari driver. The real major hindrance to Leone Pelachin's career, besides his family, was the handicap of starting racing at the age of thirty, when the careers of many drivers are already on the decline. Not so much for physical or skill reasons, as demonstrated by the successes of "grandfathers" like Alonso at 42 and Hamilton at 39, but also the incredible career of Nuvolari, who at over fifty risked winning the Mille Miglia twice. But Leone Pelachin had all the strength and desire to continue racing and winning at 35, and that farewell at the peak of his career and the dream of a lifetime must have been the most difficult moment after years of success. MS: Leone, did you never think about starting racing until you were thirty? LP: I'd always had a passion for cars and racing, but I never thought I would have the chance to race on the track. In reality, I wanted to be a tester. Racing was a dream that came true when I realized I was really good at driving, but before reaching that point, I had to cover tens of thousands of kilometers, first on the roads and then on the Balocco track with Alfa Romeo models under development. It was at Balocco that I truly learned to drive: hundreds of accelerations from a standstill, top speeds, recoveries, special tests with all the prototypes of Alfa production cars, always collaborating with the designers from Arese, including engineer Felisa, who later became CEO and Managing Director of Ferrari and Aston Martin. But before becoming ‘good’, how many mistakes, how many breakdowns, how many accidents... Fortunately, never with any consequences. MS: How did you go from being a simple mechanic to a tester for Alfa Romeo? LP : At 14, I started as a mechanic in a workshop in Rho, just a stone's throw away from Arese, but my dream was to work at Alfa Romeo. So, in 1969, after my military service, I applied and was hired as an engine/carburettor technician. I was already capable of dismantling and reassembling an engine by myself, and I enjoyed that work. After not even a year in the experimental department at Arese, my dream increasingly became to become a tester. The desire was so strong that I asked my workshop head every day to be transferred to that department, and after being told "no" a hundred times, he finally said, "Okay, if you really want to, try it..." The test went well, and so, after covering almost 100,000 km in less than a year on the roads of Lombardy, along the Apennines, and over the Alpine passes to test the new Alfa models, the big day arrived. The chief tester called me and said, "Pelachin is doing well, from Monday he goes to Balocco track." I'll never forget that day. It was as if the gates of Heaven had opened. I could have cried tears of happiness! MS: And how did you find Balocco? What cars did you drive? LP: I drove all the production models from that period, from the Alfa 6 to the Montreal to the Alfasud. But my main task was to develop and verify tires for the new models before putting them into production. We conducted endless tests, especially at night, to avoid being photographed by "prototype hunters," and of course, we drove a lot on wet surfaces. That's how I became a true expert in driving in the rain, as seen in the wet races of the Trophy. Among the testers, there was also a sort of time challenge on the Balocco lap, and after a while, I was the fastest of all, both on dry and wet tracks. At first, no one believed it, until I had to compete for a series of tests – first with my chief tester Bruno Bonini, whom I "defeated" driving an Alfetta prototype, then with the head of all the Balocco testers, Guido Moroni, who at the end of the tests with a GTV 2000 declared, "It's right that the apprentice goes faster than the master." There was also a tester from Autodelta, as well as a driver in the World Championship for Makes, who once, invited to a challenge with me by the head of the Balocco timekeepers, preferred to turn down the invite. Who knows, afraid of being beaten maybe? MS: In the many tests you conducted, is there one you'll never forget? LP: The most incredible of all was driving the Montreal: a "speed test" from Reggio Calabria to Lubeck. From the extreme south to the extreme north of Europe in just 20 hours with the Montreal. It was a report published by the magazine Quattroruote with the title "See you tonight in Lubeck". It was 1972 and there were no speed limits then, and the traffic was a whole different story, but there were still customs checks, and some sections of the Salerno-Reggio Calabria and Brenner motorways were missing. What we did with two Montreals, myself and the tester Francesco Brignoli in one, and the journalist Bruno Bonetto and the chief tester Bruno Bonini in the other Montreal, is truly incredible and unrepeatable. It's almost 2,600 km, so we maintained an average speed of over 130 km/h! Today, no one, with any car in the world, could beat that record. All thanks to the Montreal which, with the 200 hp of its V8, exceeded 220 km/h and, in addition to demonstrating great road qualities, never had any problems throughout the entire journey. MS: In the early Seventies, the development of the Alfasud was in full swing. How was it going? What was its development like? LP: From the first tests, when we drove with the entire body camouflaged, almost like a van, the Alfasud performed very well, and we never had major problems. When the Golf came out, which was considered the most direct competitor, we compared it extensively at Balocco with ours. We were superior in everything, especially in road behavior and steering functionality, not to mention the engine and performance: our 1200 boxer engine clearly outperformed Volkswagen's 1100 and 1300. There was also an Alfasud that no one ever saw and that was on the verge of going into production, but even after our tests, it was rejected. MS: What model was it, and what happened? Were there other Alfas that you tested but never made it into production? LP: It was the Sprint Spider, designed by Giugiaro alongside the sedan and coupe, which in some ways resembled the Fiat X1/9, with the large roll bar and removable roof. It was intended for the American market, but due to the investment required and the design that didn't convince, it remained on standby. The final blow came from our tests at Balocco on the cobbles: it was found that the chassis couldn't withstand the stress, it tended to flex and therefore needed to be modified and strengthened. That was the verdict that definitively ended the project. Among the engines we tested but never made it into production was the 2-liter, 16-valve, 4-cylinder engine of the Alfetta GTV. It was an excellent engine, Alfa Romeo's first production engine with 4 valves per cylinder. It generated over 150 hp and was responsive, but for some reason, it was decided not to continue its development. Another engine we tested in our cars was the Wankel, also being developed by NSU and Mazda at the time: I don't remember if that was one of the rotary prototypes produced at Arese or if it was of Mazda origin. The engine was powerful, but we immediately saw that in terms of noise, fuel consumption, and reliability, it was a step backward rather than forward. Moreover, it had another serious flaw, the lack of engine braking, which put a strain on the braking system and did not provide confidence when driving at the limit. MS: So we come to the end of 1977, when you decided to start racing. What happened? Who helped you, who gave you the car? LP: Actually, I had already done a few races in '75 and '76, but in rallycross with the 2 CV. The first year had few races and many breakdowns, but by the end of the second year, I was in contention until the last race to win the Italian championship, but I came second. Almost everyone at Balocco knew about my desire to race, including Giorgio Francia who in '77, in addition to competing in the World Championship for Makes with the 33 TT/12, had been hired as a tester for Autodelta. We often met during breaks at Balocco. That's how he said to me, almost jokingly, "But didn't you want to be a driver?" Without hesitation, I replied, "Where? With whom? With what?" He told me that the SPECAR dealership in La Spezia had a car for the Trophy but wasn't satisfied with its driver and was looking for a new one. So if I wanted to try... MS: Speaking of Autodelta, the Alfa Romeo cars prepared for racing, including the F.1 and the 33 for the World Championship for Makes designed by engineer Chiti, were often tested at Balocco. Did you ever manage to try them? LP: I would have liked to, indeed! But, for some reason, I was never in the good graces of Teodoro Zeccoli, the head of Autodelta's testers, and I never managed to get close to those cars. In fact, once, in 1980, Zeccoli, acting as a technical commissioner at the Imola track, did me a disservice by disqualifying me for a minor irregularity, which seemed deliberately done to diminish my championship victory. But that's another story.. Actually, once, in the absence of Zeccoli and Chiti, who would never have given permission despite my successes with the Alfasud, I managed to convince Manfredini, the head mechanic at Autodelta, to let me try the F.1. It was Giacomelli's Alfa 179 race car, and a few days later, there was the French Grand Prix at Le Castellet. They let me do three laps, but... if I had broken something, I wouldn't have been able to set foot in Balocco or Alfa Romeo again! It was a mix of joy and fear! At 160 mph on the straight, if you accelerated a bit too much, you felt all 500 hp of the naturally aspirated V12 unloading onto the rear, causing it to hint at slipping, while in the corners, it felt like being on a rail, but only up to the limit I had set for myself to reach. After that, it's better not to know. MS: So you made it to Formula 1, congratulations! Even if it was just for three laps! But let's go back to the beginning of your career when you had your first test with the Alfasud Trophy. LP: The pivotal moment of my career was at the Varano racetrack, where the dealer Piero Simoncini had decided to assess my skills, given that I had never been on a track and had never driven a race car. I didn't know Varano or the Trofeo, but despite that, I wasn't worried at all; I was truly confident in my driving abilities! MS: And how did it go? LP: Simoncini and his workshop manager were satisfied with the performance and said to me, "Okay, let's go, if you agree." I replied, "For me, that's fine, as long as I don't have to incur any expenses because I really wouldn't know how to manage." For this reason, we didn't have any other winter tests until the beginning of the Trophy, and we had to skip some races during the season, including the first one at Mugello. So, here we were at Monza, on April 23, 1978, for the debut, and it was a debut with a "bang"... in every sense of the word! MS: What happened? LP: We arrived at Monza with all the top teams who had already tested extensively on that track, which I didn't know, and at the end of the official practices, I was in the top five, just 17 hundredths off the pole position. Some of the more established drivers started wondering, "Who's that guy, never heard of him, and he comes in and goes faster than us who have been racing in the Trophy for two years!" Meanwhile, Autosprint’s headline the following Monday read, "An Alfa Tester Unleashed." On race day, my first impression, at the start, was, "are these guys all crazy?" I didn't know where to look; I was in the middle of a real "battle," with cars touching, pushing, and banging doors. When we got to the first chicane, I said to myself, "well, if that's how it is, I'll play the fool too," and I threw myself into the mix: and so began my racing career. In the heat, after starting on the front row, I was leading the race in the penultimate lap when I was overtaken by two other Alfasuds. They collided at Ascari and spun right in front of me: I couldn't do anything but hit them, and so, after turning the nose of my Trofeo into a "wedge," I had to retire. Fortunately, the dealer understood that it wasn't my fault, and since I also set the fastest overall lap time among the Alfasuds, he said to me, "It's not a problem, let's continue!" MS: And did it go better at the second race? LP: Not entirely. We were at Varano in May, and there too, I was among the best in practice. I started on pole in my heat, but on the first lap, I was pushed from behind, sending me into a spin: I hit a couple of Alfasuds, and so I found myself off the track, stopped in the middle of the grass. I unbuckled my seat belts and tried to get out to see the damage to the car, but the door wouldn't open. So, I buckled up again and... I restarted like a madman! I set the fastest lap time, and at the end of the heat, I was fourth, qualifying for the final! In the final, I then achieved my best result of the debut season, finishing fifth. MS: So the rest of the season didn't go as you hoped? LP: Actually, we only planned to compete in five or six races, and even though I didn't achieve any other results, I managed to gain some satisfaction. In the second race at Varano in June, I won my heat, setting the fastest lap time. At Misano, I secured pole position in the official practices, while in the only race of the Trofeo Europa that I participated in at Le Castellet, I qualified sixth and finished the race in fifteenth place. MS: Not bad for a rookie. So, were you able to get an Alfasud Trofeo for the 1979 championship? LP: Yes, SPECAR dealership confirmed me, and finally, the first victory came at Monza in my seasonal debut, in the third race of the Trophy! It was a head-to-head battle with Sigala which finished in a sprint finish – a win by just a few centimeters! During the championship, I won my heat at Varano, Misano, and Mugello, but due to several retirements and skipping some races, I didn't go beyond fourteenth place in the Trophy standings. However, the tuner Bigazzi, who assisted my car and Bertolini's, managed to win the preparers' cup. MS: So, we come to 1980, the year of the championship victory. Was it all easy? LP: Almost, although there were some problems and mishaps. The car, always prepared by Bigazzi, was perfect at the beginning of the championship, so much so that I won the first four races of the championship. But at Mugello, it didn't seem the same anymore, while my teammate Bertolini's car was flying. We had this feeling or impression that the tuner favored him, so the owner of the SPECAR dealership for which I raced decided to leave Bigazzi and switch to another team, Luicar. Immediately, things returned to normal. With two more victories at Magione and Misano: the Trofeo Alfasud was mine! But at Magione, a couple of incidents made me think that someone wanted to prevent me from winning: leaving the car in a workshop the night before the race, we found it with a loosened cylinder head cap, as if they had tried to make the engine run out of water during the race. Fortunately, we noticed the ‘sabotage’, and in the final, after winning the heat, I found myself with a significant lead in the last lap. It seemed done, but a backmarker cut me off and gave me a push that almost sent me spinning. I managed to keep the car in control somehow and finished the race more than 5 seconds ahead of Calamai. Was it the backmarker's mistake or a deliberate maneuver? I'm still wondering. MS: In 1981, the national championships gave way to the Trofeo Europa, which was even more thrilling with 10 races, half of which were concurrent with the Formula 1 Grand Prix. How did it go? LP: Well, I can tell you that I finished ahead of Gerhard Berger in the championship that year, as he began his leap into Formula 1 and Ferrari. I, always racing for Luicar, won at Imola, and he won at Zeltweg, but the season's dominant driver was Rinaldo Drovandi. We only finished sixth and seventh. Ahead of us was also a young man from Ferrara, Renato Croce, who could have really made it to Formula 1. But instead... At Monza, in the final race, he won, racing alongside Drovandi with the Alfasud prepared by Bigazzi for Autolodi. The owners of the Lodi dealership called me at the end of the season to offer me a car for the 1982 Trophy, which would no longer be contested with the Alfasud but with the Alfa Sprint. However, there was a big problem: my departure from the Bigazzi team in 1980. It hadn't gone down well with the Tuscan tuner, and he immediately demanded my apologies for doubting his integrity. MS: So, did you "apologize" and manage to join the strongest team in the Trophy? LP:  Needless to say, I apologized to Bigazzi for ‘thinking badly’, but in reality, some doubts always remained… His team was indeed the strongest. Besides me and Croce for Autolodi, the Bigazzi team fielded three Alfa Sprints for the Spaniards Villamil, Emilio Zapico, and Luis Perez Sala, another guy who managed to make it to Formula 1. It was an exciting Trophy: just over halfway through the season, Croce and I were leading with two victories each, but despite this and the many battles we had on the track, there was a good relationship – respect in the race and friendship in life, even though he often said to me, "You're not Leone, you're a Volpone." So we arrived at the last two races with almost the same points. At Monza, I won, after risking going off the track several times. Meanwhile, Croce, after colliding with Drovandi, driving the third car fielded by Autolodi, damaged his Alfa Sprint and lost many positions. Then he went off the track trying to get back to the front of the race. That incident, which I believe was entirely unintentional however, marked Renato Croce's fate. He felt like a victim of a plot and suffered dramatically from the so-called ‘injustice’ he’d been dealt. There was still one race to go, and everything was still to be decided. Croce and I were the favorites, but the Spaniard Emilio Zapico was right behind us. And we were racing in Spain, where a real bullfight awaited us. A bullfight indeed. It began right away, with Renato Croce getting involved in the starting melee and finding himself at the back of the pack. He launched an incredible comeback, gaining fifteen positions, but he couldn't do better than eighth place. I, as Croce would have said, like a true "fox," focused mainly on securing the result, I didn't attempt any heart-stopping overtakes and settled for third place. But the victory in the Trofeo Europa was mine! MS: For the winner of the Trophy, the Alfetta GTV 6 2.5 was at stake, which was worth almost 30 million lire. Didn't you think about racing in F.3 with the winnings? LP: Actually, the GTV went to Autolodi and the team. I was left with just a ‘tip’! The agreement was that I wouldn't have any expenses, but all the prizes went to the team, except for some ‘pocket money’ for me. I didn't have the economic means to move up to a formula car, while the Trophy I was asked to leave unless I wanted to lose the chance to continue working in Alfa Romeo's sports activities. The desire to race was still strong, but I had to let reason win over passion. MS: So, did you hang up your helmet for good? And what happened to Croce, your great rival that year? LP: Yes, I hung up the helmet, but not forever. Ten years passed, and at 45 I returned to the track with the Alfa 33 Group A, immediately winning the first race at Misano. From '92 to 2000, I competed in many touring car races in Group A and N championships and returned to win several times. But if I won the lottery today, I'd return to the track immediately, and I'm sure many wouldn't be ahead of me. Renato Croce, on the other hand, in the winter of '82 tried the Alfa Romeo-powered F.3, but he also decided to return to racing with the Sprint in 1983. He arrived at Imola for the trials of the first Trophy race, which was won by Calamai ahead of Sala. But something had changed in him. Partly due to the disappointment of the previous year, but above all it was because of a parasite that had begun growing in him – drugs. Unfortunately, he didn't even start the race at Imola, and a few months later he lost his most important race – the one for life. About the author, Mario Simoni .   Cars, racing, and journalism have always been among my passions. I am among the few fortunate ones to have turned my passions into a lifelong career. And all this almost by chance, through a series of fortunate circumstances that have led me to write these pages about the life of a driver and tester like Leone Pelachin. I also began my career as a driver, but at 23, competing for two seasons in the Renault 5 Cup. However, while my financial resources were similar to those of the "Champion Without a Suitcase", my driving abilities were evidently different. Thus, after a couple of spectacular accidents and no significant results, I hung up my helmet... but not forever. It was Alfa Romeo itself that called me back to the track, at Imola in 1982, to compete in a race of the Alfa Sprint Trophy, the one won by Pelachin in a photo finish against Renato Croce. In reality, I had been called not so much as a driver but as a journalist, to recount to Autosprint readers the thrills, emotions, and driving sensations behind the wheel of the Sprint Trophy. But let's take a step back: at the end of the seventies, I began my career as a journalist in the automotive sector for a minor magazine, until in 1981 I started collaborating with Autosprint, writing among other things about promotional championships, such as the Alfasud Trophy. An undeniable passion for Alfa also led me to propose a competition in Autosprint to entrust a young driver with a Sprint Trophy for the '82 season: and the main selector in the final test at the Balocco track naturally had to be Leone Pelachin. In those two unforgettable seasons with the Sprint, I admired and recounted all the duels and battles on European tracks, becoming friends with almost all the protagonists of the Trophy. My career then continued, leaving racing to move on to production cars in the editorial staff of the monthly magazine Auto, where for almost thirty years I tested every type of car and authored investigations, tests, travel stories, and scoops on upcoming releases from automotive manufacturers. In the meantime, I also wrote a book about Alfa Romeo spiders and two about another of my life's passions, Cisitalia.

A journey through history, with legends, brown bears, phantasmagorical fountains and a picturesque river. And the charming Alps less than an hour’s drive away Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri and Anthony Egas Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. Canton Bern Route from Bern to Gurnigel Distance 36 km Travel time 1h Driving pleasure 4/5 Panorama 4/5 An enchanting place, a human-sized city steeped in history and a territory dominated by a generous nature, made of rivers, lakes and spectacular mountain peaks. This is Bern and the canton of the same name, capital of the Swiss Confederation and one of the destinations we chose for our Swiss Grand Tour driving some of the greatest classic Alfa Romeos. This is the turn of the Giulietta Sprint Speciale, a model designed by Bertone, which certainly does not go unnoticed with its aerodynamic lines that became a benchmark between the 1950s and ‘60s when it made its début on the market. [click to watch the video] Putting the car at our disposal for this itinerary was Serge Stotzer, owner of the Oldtimer Galerie in Toffen, to the south of Bern, a leading company in the organisation of classic car auctions. We arranged to meet Serge in Klösterlistutz, a fairly large and easy-to-reach area in east Bern. From here we headed for the historical centre, across the Nideggbrücke, one of the many bridges crossing the River Aar, which is an integral part of Bern. Precisely at this point, a large bend in the river has turned the area into a kind of peninsula, where the first settlement originated. And, talking of origins, before the bridge you will come across the Bärengraben, the “Bear Pit”, the city zoo’s home for three brown bears, considered not only a lucky charm for the people from Bern but is also the symbol found on the city’s coat of arms. A few hundred yards from Bärengraben, a panoramic terrace overlooks the architectural structure of the Nideggbrücke, with its three bays, and the rooftops of the old town and the surrounding river. Crossing the bridge, you enter the medieval centre, declared a UNESCO world heritage site in 1983: here it is worth avoiding the main traffic flow, which bends to the right to enter Kramgasse, straight ahead. This long, flag-decked road is lined with shops protected by the characteristic arcades of Bern, which boasts six kilometres of arcades that make it a place of choice for shopping in any weather. At the end of Kramgasse, the city’s most famous landmark and much-photographed tourist attraction, the Zytgloggem, a large tower housing the spectacular astronomical clock. Built in 1218 as a guard tower and used over the centuries as a prison, it was later adorned with gold-leaf decorations and the impressive Gothic spire. Before you reach the tower, in the middle of the road you will note a coloured column topped by a standing bear, wearing a golden helmet with a cub eating grapes sitting between its paws. This is one of the eleven allegorical fountains in the historical centre that make Bern famous throughout Switzerland, and just one of the 100 or so scattered around the city. Searching for them among the houses and squares is a favourite pastime for tourists. Strolling through the streets, you will find two religious buildings, the Cathedral devoted to Saints Peter and Paul, dating back to the mid-19th century, but particularly the protestant ‘Münster’ with a Gothic bell tower measuring over 100 metres high, which can be seen from anywhere in the city. Meanwhile, the compact, nippy Giulietta SS takes us through the city's medieval streets – where the ancient walls and cobbled streets reverberate with the powerful, dry roar of the four-cylinder engine – emerging in the bright, open spaces of the large Confederation Square. And here stands the magnificent Federal Palace, home to the Federal Council, the executive body of the Swiss Confederation government.   Before leaving Bern, a quick trip along the banks of the Aar is a must: stop in one of the many lively bars frequented by the university students for a snack or drink, to enjoy a different view of the old city. For instance, along the Dalmaziquai, which runs beneath the bridge of the same name, offering an attractive view of the rear of the Federal Palace. Another place not to be missed is the spectacular Zentrum Paul Klee, designed by Renzo Piano to house the artist's works.   Our next destination, as well as the point of arrival of our itinerary, is the Gurnigel Pass, 1600 metres above sea level in the Bernese Prealps. To reach it, we leave Bern from the same place we met Serge, heading south towards Belp. Passing the town, the landscape opens up offering views of boundless meadows set against the first Bernese peaks. In Toffen, we take a technical break at the Oldtimer Galerie, with its precious two- and four-wheel gems, and then start to climb towards Gurnigel.   The road is quite smooth, alternating short straight roads with wide bends through the mountain pastures. Reaching Riggisberg, a small municipality with 2500 inhabitants, we just have to stop at the Abegg-Stiftung Foundation, set up by the Zurich-based couple the Abeggs to conserve and promote an extraordinary collection of heritage fabrics, including a visit to their own villa and the artworks on show. For car enthusiasts, Riggisberg comes alive in early September each year with the “Gurnigel Bergrennen”, the 3.8 km hill climb race inaugurated in 1910 where the best Swiss and international drivers compete: this unmissable event attracts a 10,000-strong audience every year. Accompanied by the grit of a Stelvio Quadrifoglio, the Giulietta Sprint Speciale climbs quickly towards the pass along the road on the eastern slopes of the Selibüel. Pure driving pleasure, but unfortunately we have to reckon with a rather menacing sky. And indeed, in just a few minutes the sun makes way for torrential rain, though it seems that people are quite used to this round here. Having reached Grunigel and the end of our itinerary, we should make two considerations: the first in favour of the small Alfa Romeo, which was agile and easy to drive even in the pouring rain; the second in favour of the location which, although penalised by low clouds and limited visibility, concealing the view towards Lake Thun and the Fribourg Alps, has a charm that makes you want to return. We hope next time when the sun is shining. THE COLLECTOR: Serge Stotzer The "Giulietta SS" I have always loved Alfa Romeos, one of the first cars I drove was a 2003 GTV. This Bertone Giulietta Sprint Speciale was purchased in Switzerland on 7 September 1961 and it seems as if it has always been here. The 97 HP four-cylinder engine should really have more horsepower, with its original intake ducts designed by Virgilio Conrero, from 1963 the official Alfa Romeo engine manufacturer, also known as the “engine magician” due to his skill in increasing power output. In the mid-1990s, the SS was fully restored – mechanics, bodywork and interiors. In 2002 it was bought by an enthusiast who, in 2004, had a new drive shaft installed, along with new main bearings and new piston rings, with a complete overhaul of the cylinder head. Preparing it for its MOT, in 2016 it had a new tank, new silencers and an electronic ignition. I really enjoy driving it, even though, like many classic Alfas, the second gear is a little stiff. But it doesn't take long to get used to it. The Modern Alfas First, I should say that the last car that I think holds all the thrills of the brand is the 4C, so a car designed 11 years ago. It is not a modern Alfa Romeo but a future classic, with tonnes of personality, in both its design and its driving style. What I love about recent Alfas is the noise and the performance of the Giulia Quadrifoglio and Stelvio Quadrifoglio, excellent cars for everyday use and safe in any condition. Packed with electronics, they are easy for anyone to drive, despite their huge power output. They are very beautiful cars but they don’t offer the same thrills of a true sports Alfa Romeo like those of the past.

It is still the only four-door car with gull-wing doors today, and one of the most representative prototypes of the vast production of Giovanni Michelotti, the most prolific Italian designer in the country’s style history. A comfortable yet sporty sedan that easily seats four people, built on the Lancia Beta 1800, débuted at the 1974 Turin Motor Show, arousing great interest and curiosity. Giovanni’s son Edgardo Michelotti, who was personally involved in its creation, tells us about the car in detail. And with this article, he begins his collaboration with SpeedHolics. Words Edgardo Michelotti Photos and drawings Archivio Storico Michelotti ( http://www.archiviostoricomichelotti.it/ ) “For me, what counts in a car is its style.” My father had clear ideas about design, and the Lancia Beta 1800 Mizar, one of his last creations, is one of the most significant examples of his infinite production. In the early 1970s, Michelotti had already made his name in the international car world. Like both previous and subsequent projects, this was a fully-fledged part of his research into aerodynamics, passive safety and comfort, thanks also to the availability of specific technologies that didn't exist years earlier. Dad worked in a new 1800 m2 facility where all the phases of prototype construction were performed, with a 500 m2 engineering and style department and around 25 employees. This is where the Mizar was born, completely in-house. In 1973, I began to work in the coachbuilders as an apprentice aged 22. I remember my surprise when my father asked me what I thought about producing a four-door gull-wing car for the Turin Motor Show to be held the next year. A stimulating project that was to be a world first, something never built before. Initially I told him I was flattered that he had asked, but that I wasn't expert enough to express an opinion. But he insisted, as he was interested in the opinion of someone younger (even before I joined, he had probably done a survey among his colleagues). In the end, I said yes, it seemed like a good idea. My involvement began with a prospect view sketch of the car and a 1:10 scale drawing, which he told me to copy in pencil on tracing paper. It was not an easy task. In the end, he examined my work and complimented me, but one detail on the drawing was not perfect. So I had to draw it all over again, as his way of working didn't allow us to use a rubber. But the second, and then the third and many other copies also had defects. Substantially, I drew the same thing for days and days, accumulating a mountain of almost identical sheets. After two weeks, I finally managed to produce what he thought was the definitive drawing, having silently and obediently demonstrated my perplexity over his way of doing things. Pencil drawings of the side view of two alternative versions of the Mizar made in December 1973, when Michelotti was still trying to give the car its definitive style. Two of the drawings made by Edgardo Michelotti following his father’s instructions that would be used to create the 1:1 scale construction plan. And then we made a heliographic copy and with a few strokes of watercolour he turned the drawing into a masterpiece. He then allowed me to take part in the 1:1 scale design of the construction plan of the car. It was a great time for me professionally, and I still remember it fondly. Some of the life-sized scale construction of the Mizar with the wooden jig and panel assembly jig, all made in the workshop in Orbassano, just outside Turin. The car was made from iron sheet, following the typical methodology used for making single prototypes. The car was also painted and upholstered at the workshop. Only a few years later did I realise that his – albeit strange – behaviour had in fact put me to a test, of determination, perseverance, passion and character. Unfortunetely, I never found out if that first drawing was already acceptable or if the last one still contained errors. What he actually wanted to check was something else. Considering the period in which it was made, the car was something extraordinary. One of the things it included was also the classic front grille, which the parent company had abandoned years earlier (but returned to in subsequent production models). At that time, Michelotti collaborated with the Fiat Style Centre, working with Paolo Boano, style manager, and Giuseppe Civardi, in charge of the bodywork. But there was no particular contact between them and my father in the definition of this exclusive model, aside from purchasing the chassis and the mechanics. Some photos of the finished car taken in April 1974 opposite the entrance to the office building and in the courtyard in Orbassano. The Mizar was an instant success among the general public and received favourable reviews in the specialist press. The four-seater car had retracting headlights, polyurethane bumpers (previously tested on the prototypes of the 1971 Fiat 128 Coupé Pulsar and the 1972 Fiat 132 Coupé, both presented at the Geneva and Turin motor shows) and extraordinary aerodynamics. The Michelotti stand set up at the 1974 Turin Motor Show where the Mizar was presented to the public for the first time. On the final road test, I remember it seemed like flying a glider: not a draught or tiny whistle of air. The visibility was exceptional and the upholstered seats assured comfort even on long journeys. The gull-wing doors, the other great novelty of this new design, were driven by a large piston mounted on the central steering column, one for each door. The doors opened individually, although to add a touch of the spectacular, in the photos they are always shown both open. This made the construction even more complex, but the end result was way beyond all expectations. The car was completed in time for its world preview at the Turin International Motor Show in spring 1974, and later also at Geneva and Barcelona the following year. Unfortunately, due to its design the Mizar could not be type-approved, as the gull-wing doors couldn't open if the car overturned. In the end, it was simply an interesting style exercise, which ended with the production of a working prototype. Images from the Lancia Beta 1800 Mizar press folder taken at Avigliana Lake, near Turin The project did however have a happy ending: the Swiss high-end car importer Willy Felber ordered a modification on seven Lancia Beta 1800s, proposing the same front as our Mizar and the rear with the opening rear hatch window. The passenger compartment and doors remained those of the originals. In 1978 my father sold the car to a Japanese collector who I didn’t have the chance to meet. I believe that it is still being admired in the Far East, although I recently heard (but have not checked) that due to his age and health the owner wants to sell it, but that’s still to be confirmed. What is certain is that it is the only car ever built with four opening gull-wing doors and the rear hatch window as a fifth door. About tha author Edgardo Michelotti: Born in 1952, I hold a diploma as a surveyor and pursued a degree in Architecture in Turin. I began working alongside my father in 1973 until his illness and passing in early 1980. I continued his work until 1991, when I transitioned away from the automotive industry. For the next 15 years, I focused on industrial design, while also engaging in photography and archival digitization from 2003 to the present. This allowed me to manage an extensive archive, including the specific cataloging and complete digitization of approximately 6,000 graphic units, 20,000 photographs, 7,000 kg of full-scale design plans, as well as scale models, tools, correspondence, and periodicals. The archive spans over three decades, covering the 1950s, 60s, and 70s.

Like any charming adventure, there is treasure to be found. Ours is called Engadin, and to find it we climbed two mountain passes, the Julier and the Bernina Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri and Anthony Egas Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. The place to be in the Swiss Alps is called Engadin, a 90-km-long valley south of the Grisons, the largest canton in the Swiss Confederation. To get there, we decided to start from one of the busiest roads in central-eastern Switzerland, the A13 linking Zurich to Bellinzona, passing through Chur. Along the motorway, we came across Thusis, a small town of three thousand inhabitants built on the banks of the raging alpine river Nolla, which flows into the Hinterrhein, the departure point of the Cantonal Road no. 3 that leads towards Engadin crossing the Julier Pass. [click to watch the video] Before setting out, it is well worth taking a stroll among the narrow streets of Thusis, lined with buildings from different eras and a wealthy past; the beautiful houses in the Neudorf neighbourhood, partly rebuilt after the great fire in 1845, looking over the main road running through the town, bear witness to this. Other points of interest include the late Gothic Church of Our Lady, the Schlössli - a “small castle” in both name and deed, the fountain in honour of the works done on the spectacular Viamala Gorge, which runs along the Hinterrhein with sheer walls up to 300 metres high. In addition to the beautiful landscape and the wealth of foot- and cycle-paths which make it a popular destination for cycling and trekking fans, Thusis’s fame is also due to its fortunate, strategic geographical position, at the foot of some major mountain passes for both goods and humans, including the Spluga, the San Bernardino, the Albula and, of course, the Julier. The four-wheeled star of this Alpine adventure, the magnificent 1962 Alfa Romeo Giulia Spider that Ronnie Kessel, the enthusiastic young owner of Kessel Group in Lugano, put at our disposal after a thorough refurbishment. The fact of having this car as our travel companion also offers a curious coincidence with the Italian name of the Julier Pass, “Passo del Giulia”. Having said this, we set off early, and the fairly chilly climate made us keep the hood down, at least as we drove towards the Julier. We passed through a long series of tunnels dotted along the Cantonal Road no. 3 from Thusis to Tiefencastle, where there is a turn-off for the Albula Pass. Our route in any case continued along the main road for another 35 kilometres through sweeping, scenic valleys where long, winding roads run up and down hill, interspersed with some wonderful panoramic views. The peaks of Piz Spegnaz and Arblatsch on the right and, after Savognin, the Marmorera Dam and reservoir. A couple of kilometres after the reservoir we come to Bivio, a small town at the foot of the Julier, whose first steep and narrow bends can clearly be seen from a distance. From an altitude of 1770 metres we climb to the pass at 2200 metres, enjoying both the spectacular views and the pleasure of driving. The perfect scenario for celebrating the features of a car like the Giulia Spider: agile and comfortable, it is ideal for admiring the views with the top down, even though for the time being we still have the hood up. The driving rhythm of the Stelvio Quadrifoglio accompanying us was quite different: it climbed like a tiger, gripping every bend with its four-wheel drive charging along the tarmac with all the 520 HP of the V6 biturbo engine. The road is perfectly tarmacked, and our surroundings run from the peaks to the valleys, still white with snow. Having reached the pass, the downward journey on the other side is quite smooth, with wide bends and long straight roads. We quickly cover the seven kilometres separating us from Upper Engadie, along a kind of plateau that however becomes steeper towards the end when, on a left-hand bend, the last of the descent and just before a short tunnel, we find ourselves overlooking the spectacular Lake Silvaplana, one of the four in the valley. And here, with the temperature slightly higher, we are tempted by the Giulia’s spider soul and finally take the hood down. Running along the lake fed by the River Inn, we arrive just in time at the “pearl of the Engadin”, St. Moritz, the ideal place for showing off the timeless elegance of the two-seater Biscione. Since the mid-19th century, when the town was an Alpine village inhabited by livestock breeders, today it has become a chic location dotted with elegant luxury boutiques. During the period when the spa waters of the St. Moritz spring began to attract an international clientèle, two major hotels were built and are still a symbol of the town’s exclusivity: the Kulm, the oldest, and Badrutt’s Palace, today standing alongside the spectacular Kempinski Grand Hotel des Bains, on the banks of the lake. St. Moritz is known above all as a place of entertainment and sport. It has been home to two editions of the Winter Olympics, a famous bobsled run, a skeleton racing track, and snow polo tournaments held on the iced-over lake. This lake also hosts a famous classic cars event: ‘The Ice’, the most extraordinary Concours d’Elegance for classic cars on ice. In addition to these attractions, visitors should also stop at the Segantini Museum, dedicated to the famous Italian painter with the monumental Alpine Triptych. And, talking of great works, running through the town, along the stone wall of the railway station, you can admire the huge installation “Welcome” (29x4 metres), by the US graphic artist Barbara Stauffacher Solomon, who died recently at the age of 95. Leaving St. Moritz along the Cantonal Road no. 27, with the River Inn on our right and heading towards Celerina, we reach a roundabout that meets the no. 28, which takes us to the second pass on our itinerary, the Bernina. To reach the pass we set off from the slopes of Piz Bernina, which at 4,049 metres is one of the highest peaks in the Grisons, passing through the municipality of Pontresina to the Diavolezza area, which is perfect for skiing and trekking, at an altitude of 2000 metres, and where two cable cars take you to almost 3000 metres. Six kilometres separate Diavolezza from the pass, along a route encircled by the charming landscape of the Rhaetian Alps. After the Bernina Pass, we drive down towards Valtellina. The first border crossing to Italy is the La Motta customs post, the perfect place for ending our magical itinerary through Grisons. THE COLLECTOR: Ronnie Kessel The "Giulia Spider" The splendid shape drawn by Pininfarina for the Giulietta, is proposed again in 1962 with the Giulia Spider which distinguishes itself from the previous model for the wide air intake that crosses the engine hood, the adoption of larger rear lights and above all for the more powerful four-cylinder type 00112 of 1.6 liters and 91 HP. The specimen protagonist of our Tour in the Grisons has been completely restored by Kessel Classic division maintaining its fascinating and rare body color, that light blue so fashionable in the 60s. The Modern Alfas The history of my family has always been linked to the brand from Arese. It was an Alfa Romeo that brought my father into the world of racing in a career that then reached Formula 1, and it is with one of the six official Autodelta GTA's that I enjoy participating in some races of the Alfa Romeo Classic championship today. A passion and a strong bond that, analyzing the current models of the Biscione, especially the most performing ones, makes me say that Alfa Romeo has succeeded in the task of preserving the DNA and driving style of its cars.

Massimo Grandi brings us into the fascinating history of Giuseppe Furmanik’s Maserati Siluro 4CM Carenato, a record-breaking car in automotive engineering. The article traces the origins of the Maserati 4CM, highlighting its development by the Maserati brothers and its transformation into a speed record challenger. Furmanik's innovative work in aerodynamics and engineering is explored, showcasing how his modifications led to multiple world records. The Maserati Siluro 4CM Carenato exemplifies the blend of scientific principles and aesthetic design in early 20th-century racing. Words and Drawings Massimo Grandi The history of Giuseppe Furmanik's record-breaking Maserati 4cm is profoundly intertwined with the birth of the prestigious Italian brand Maserati. In the early 1920s, the brothers Alfiero and Ernesto Maserati were well-known and esteemed, both as drivers and designers, and in 1922 the prestigious firm Diatto called them to direct its racing team. In 1923, the engineer Giuseppe Coda, Diatto’s director and designer, built 2 experimental 4-litre straight-8 engines, coupling standard Diatto Type 20 blocks. Between 1924 and 1925, under Coda's guide, Alfieri Maserati designed and built a new engine, with a smaller displacement of 1995 cc. This was the first 8C Diatto built by Maserati, an aluminium twin-shaft straight cylinder block with 2 Memini carburettors and a Roots-type compressor. This engine was used in the now-legendary Diatto 8C Grand Prix with compressor, 160 HP and bodywork by Schieppati that saw the light in June 1925. When Diatto withdrew from racing in 1926, ten Type 30 sport chassis, equipped with gears and other mechanical parts, were purchased by the gentleman-driver Marquis Diego De Sterlich who, a huge fan, wanted to give them to the Maserati brothers, convincing them - also with financial help - to set up their own car racing firm, and thus in 1926 Alfieri and Ernesto Maserati set up the historical “Trident” company. The first racing car was named “Tipo 26”, after the year of manufacture. It was driven by a straight-8 1500 cc engine, meeting the new international regulation, and was supercharged by a compressor that produced 120 HP at 5,300 rpm. It was the very first actual Maserati. On 25 April, 1926, the Tipo 26 made its début in the Targa Florio. It was red, the Italian national racing colour, and wore number 5. Alfieri, assisted by the mechanic Guerino Bertocchi, won its class and eighth place overall, even ahead of two Bugattis. Three were made during the first year of production, with chassis numbers 11, 12 and 13. Production of the Tipo 26 continued until 1932, with constant technical improvements and different set-ups. Between the late 1920s and early 30s, racing cars with small engines - the so-called “Voiturette” class, gained popularity in the racing world, especially among private drivers. And so, in 1929 Maserati developed a 1100 cc version of the Tipo 26. Yet compared to the French Salmsone and Amilcar, the car was overweight, so after producing four cars, the Tipo 26C or 8C 1100 was abandoned and Alfieri Maserati started from scratch. One of the main reasons for the excessive weight of the Tipo 26C was the rather large and heavy straight-8 engine. It was replaced with the first 4-cylinder engine, much better suited to the small car. With two overhead camshafts and a Roots-type compressor, the new 1088 cc "quattro" delivered 90 HP. And so, in 1932, the small, single-seater Maserati 4CM was born. The 4CM was produced until 1938, in several series, with engine capacities respectively of 1100, 1500, 2000 and 2500 cc. Giuseppe Furmanik, a key engineer in the Italian racing world and famous driver from Rome, bought a Maserati 4CM 1100 cc in August 1933, #1120. Intending to join the world speed record challenge, Furmanik immediately began to develop the mechanics, and progressively also the body. In the mid-30s, aerodynamics was in its very early stages, and Giuseppe Furmanik's Maserati 4 CM was used as a laboratory car for the new experimental aerodynamic studies. The car developed rapidly as the studies progressed. In 1934, on the Firenze-Mare motorway, Giuseppe Furmanik set a new world flying kilometre record in the 1100cc class, reaching a speed of 222.634 kilometres per hour (over 138 mph), beating the previous record of 207.527 km/h held by MG. The car had not only evolved in its mechanics but above all in terms of aerodynamics. The front had been completely re-designed, reducing the front air intake to an oval opening in the profile of the old grille, now fully integrated into the body. The chassis and front leaf-springs were also hidden inside a shaped fairing. Two years later in Pescara, the car won the standing kilometre record in 27’’38/100 with an average speed of 131.483 and the standing mile in 39’’57/100 average km. 146.415. Twenty days later, on the Firenze-Mare it beat its own records, with the flying start over a kilometre in 14’’42/100 average 249.653 and over a mile in 27’’28/100 average 212.376. It also beat the records in class D with standing start over a kilometre in 23’’865/1.000 average 150.849 and over a mile in 35’’00 at an average speed of km. 165.532. In 1937 Furmanik went even further in his aerodynamic experiments, and at the Viotti Coachbuilders in Turin, designed by Mario Revelli from Beaumont and developed at the Experimental aeronautic research centre in Guidonia, came the Maserati 4CM 1500 LSR (Land Speed Record) more commonly known as the “Maserati Siluro 4CM Carenato". The engine was a Maserati 1495.7 cc (1500). The greater displacement was obtained by changing both the bore and the stroke. The larger engine also demanded a larger compressor and a Weber carburettor. The 4CM 1500 engine delivered 130 or 150 CV depending on the use of the fixed head. The supercharged engine further developed by Furmanik, with a 100 mm stroke and 69 mm bore, with Burgo pistons, reached even 200 CV at 7000 rpm. The original bodywork of the 4 CM was then completely changed, with a practically complete fairing, aiming to create increasingly fluid and continuous lines. A huge stabiliser fin sat at the back. It was designed by Mario Revelli from Beaumont, with the bodywork by Carrozzeria Viotti. The passenger compartment was closed by a dome that made the car look more like a torpedo - siluro in Italian - that gave it the name "Maserati Siluro 4CM Carenato". Even the front brakes were eliminated to lighten the car as much as possible in order to give it more speed. The underlying arrangement of this aerodynamic model was the classic one specified in Jaray’s 1920s patent, with a central body with a longitudinal winged section with a drop-shaped roof. A similar solution had already been adopted for a 1934 Maserati 4CM 1500, based on the design by the German designer Reinhard von Koenig-Fachsenfeld with bodywork by Vetter for the Swiss driver Hans Ruesch. With his Maserati Siluro 4CM Carenato, on 2 and 3 June 1937, on the Firenze-Mare motorway, he beat the class record for the standing start kilometre in 24’’935/1.000 average 144.3, and in the standing start mile in 34’’325/1000 average 168.8 and the flying kilometre in 15’’9/100 with an average of 238.6 km/h. Although he won these two major international records, Furmanik didn’t manage to beat Frank Lockhart’s record on the flying mile. This was a really exceptional record: Lockhart was not only a skilled driver but also a great engineer and manufacturer, who had developed his Miller Perfect Circle 8-cylinder 1.500 cc supercharged engine that delivered 240 HP at 7,500 rpm. In 1927, in California, he covered the flying mile in 21.95 seconds, at a speed of 263.946 Km/hour. Furmanik couldn’t get more than 6400 rpm from his engine, while at full power it was 7000 rpm. This is enough to explain why the attempt to beat the previous record failed. But his attempt did trigger a discussion on aerodynamic efficiency, and so on Furmanik’s Maserati CX and its exposed front wheels with only a rear fairing. As we know, exposed wheels offer higher aerodynamic resistance, and so a full fairing drastically lowers the drag coefficient. Right from the start, they imagined that perhaps with a full fairing, seeing as the Maserati weighed less than Lockhart's Miller at 800 kg, they would have been able to reach higher speeds. In fact, in the original rendering the fairing covered all four wheels, also using disc hubs. This solution was similar to the one adopted by Lockhart for his wonderful 1928 Stutz Black Hawk Special. We do not know why Furmanik opted for this choice, from the period photos of the record attempt on the Firenze-Mare motorway, the car appeared even without any fairing on the wheels. Also in an original Luce film of the event, the car appeared initially with the fairings on the rear wheels, and then racing without them. Whatever Furmanik’s choice of racing with or without the fairings, the original design of this car fitted out by Viotti remains very interesting. It represents an excellent combination of the scientific application of the principles of aerodynamics and aesthetics, seeking an elegantly harmonious model even for a car intended simply to beat a speed record. With its records and its design, Furmanik’s Maserati 4CM undoubtedly wrote a chapter in the history of car racing and car design.

In a region of empty roads winding through the forests, the pleasure of driving blends with the discovery of some charming and, at times, mysterious places. We stumbled upon them at the wheel of a 1969 Junior Zagato Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. This is the only one of the 26 Swiss cantons to have Italian as its only official language. This is why, imagining an itinerary through Ticino, we decided to start from its south-western border with Italy, following the river Tresa, an emissary of Lake Lugano in the municipality of Ponte Tresa which then flows into Lake Maggiore. Ponte Tresa is not only a major border crossing, it is also a lakeside town with beaches and tourist amenities that, in the warmer season, offer visitors a full range of bathing facilities and opportunities. A couple of miles from the town, heading towards Lugano, you reach the municipality of Caslano, a charming and colourful tourism and cultural outpost looking over the water with its characteristic peninsula. Here you can not only surf, swim and sail: there are also some interesting trekking routes on and around Mount Sassalto, a protected natural oasis with a variety of plant species, and then take a tasty break at the Museum & Chocolate Experience Alprose, or a cultural diversion at the Fishing Museum. [click to watch the video] Having explored the area, we start our itinerary from Ponte Tresa, taking Via Cantonale along the right bank of the river Tresa. In contrast to the rather impervious Italian bank, as soon as you leave the town the Ticino coast of the river opens into a large, sun-kissed plane criss-crossed by straight roads linking farms, small businesses and charming villages typical of the border areas, where the lasting presence of two close yet different cultures has created a curious mix of habits and traditions. With the support of Reto Sormani, Alfa Romeo collector and expert of the local area, we wanted the route through this part of Ticino to be marked by driving pleasure, on exhilarating yet possibly quiet roads. A pleasure that was crowned by the agility and power of the car Reto put at our disposal: a bright red 1969 Alfa Romeo Junior Zagato 1300, for the occasion assisted by a really special support car, the 520 HP Giulia Quadrifoglio. The first leg of the tour runs through Sessa, recognisable even from a distance by the size of the bell tower of the San Martino Church, dating back to 1200 and built by the local feudal family Sessa, which took on its current Baroque style in the 15th century. This pretty town has a characteristic urban structure, which has maintained its appeal as an ancient hamlet. Here we also find the Palazzo del Tribunale (Court Building), because, we should remember, Sessa was to all extents and purposes the capital of Malcantone, the region connecting Milan to Lugano and then to Northern Europe. There are several theories behind the name. One states that the strategic and disputed border region was inhabited by both traders and travellers and bandits and criminals, who robbed the wayfarers. Another states that it comes from the rather bad-tempered character of its inhabitants, rough mountain folk: both are sufficient reasons for adding the prefix “mal” (“bad”) to the term “cantone”. Departing from Sessa, the first part of the route runs through the chestnut woods covering the hills. The route runs uphill along wide, well-marked and enjoyable winding roads, where the GT Junior Zagato began to offer all the thrills it is capable of. By one of the bends you will see a minecart, telling of the mining tradition that made Malcantone one of the richest mining regions not only in Switzerland but in the whole of Europe. The minecart is but a clue to the location of the gold mine (along with the local silver mine) which lies a few miles ahead in Costa di Sessa. Following the signs, you will reach the entrance of the mining tunnel, recovered in the last decade and offering interesting guided tours, as well as the first leg of the Mining Park Trail, along which trekking enthusiasts (frequent visitors to Malcantone) can reach other sites telling of the special and somewhat unexpected history and economy of the Confederacy. Like the story of Domenico Trezzini, architect and town planner born in Astano, a village with 300 inhabitants lying three kilometres from Sessa, who studied in Rome and in 1703 was called by the Tzar Peter the Great to help design St Petersburg, the new capital of the Russian Empire. Trezzini, to whom an impressive statue was erected in the Russian city, designed the Summer Palace, the Peter and Paul Fortress and Cathedral, curiously the saints after whom the Baroque parish church in Astano, dating back to 1636, is also named. The route then continues on to Novaggio from where, running along the southern face of Mount Lema, reaches Miglieglia. In addition to the modern cable car that leads to the top of the mountain, here you can also visit the beautiful Romanic Church of Santo Stefano al Colle, inside decorated with brightly coloured late-Gothic frescoes: don’t miss this tiny gem. From here on the road becomes quite spectacular, with its harmoniously winding bends and scenic views that appear out of the blue. In Breno, the main town in Upper Malcantone, the beautiful blue and white Casa Cantonale welcomes visitors. Wander round its narrow streets, stop for a tasty meal in one of its “trattorie” and then visit the monumental Church of San Lorenzo, built in the 13th century, renovated two centuries later, its neoclassical façade added in 1912. And talking of religious buildings, the view from the Church of Santa Maria Juvenia, a beautiful complex dating back to the 9th century next to the Iseo cemetery, near Vernate, is quite spectacular. The church can be reached along a short diversion from the route, offering breathtaking view of Lake Lugano and beyond. And here in Vernate we begin to approach the lake. Descending into the valley, on a right-hand bend, take the road to the left towards Bioggio, an alternative scenic route that runs half-way along the hillside. Driving through almost uninhabited ancient hamlets, you will enjoy the genuine simplicity of mountain life, while the architecture of the houses and commercial activities dotted along the road clearly indicate that you are approaching more sophisticated places. Returning to the rhythms of nearby Lugano, marked by the bridge over the A2 motorway leading to the Gotthard Pass, you will drive through Breganzona, Muzzano and then Risciano, towards Agno as far as the left-hand turn towards Figino. This picturesque lakeside town is the point of arrival for this unusual yet appealing itinerary, through a Ticino in which Lugano is the main place of attraction and yet has some unexpectedly wild delights to be discovered amongst the chestnut-covered hills. THE COLLECTOR: Reto Sormani The "Junior Z" I chose the Junior Z for its classic mechanics, with a four-cylinder, twin-cam engine, housed in a unique body. For me, who has always loved Alfa Romeo sedans, it was an extraordinary choice that added some zest to my collection, as well as an investment in a model produced in limited numbers. From a dynamic perspective, I appreciate its exceptional road-holding, thanks to a combination of lightness and power that make it agile and easily manageable. The 90 hp engine, which may not seem like much on paper, performs excellently on a weight that doesn't exceed 1000 kg. It's very responsive to the load, and it's clear that you feel the difference when you have a passenger. However, it's a very enjoyable car and surprisingly fast: on the track, I've reached 180 km/h effortlessly. Not bad for a fifty-year-old car of only 1.3 litres. The Modern Alfas As an ardent Alfista, it's enough for me to get behind the wheel of a modern Alfa to find many things that make it unique and recognizable. I recently spoke with someone from the Centro Stile, and I was struck by the fact that even today, those who work at Alfa Romeo put their heart and passion into it. I have a Giulia that I use every day and a Stelvio Quadrifoglio: then I get behind the wheel of a 2004 GT 3.2 with a manual gearbox, and my heart opens up. Perhaps I am made for slightly old-fashioned, rough Alfa Romeos.

The international charm of a city where contemporary architecture blends with the wonderful views of the lake and the surrounding peaks Words Alessandro Giudice Photography Alessandro Barteletti Video Andrea Ruggeri Swiss Grand Tour is a project to discover itineraries driving classic Alfa Romeo cars, in partnership with Astara, the distributor and importer of the Brand in Switzerland. Among all the Swiss cities, Lugano has a strong and special personality. Its proximity to Italy and the short distance that separates it from Milan have helped develop a lifestyle where a taste for beauty, particularly fashion and design, and cultural opportunities, expressed through a packed calendar of exhibitions and events, have made Lugano the most Mediterranean city in the Confederation, as well as a top financial centre. [click to watch the video] In the light of these considerations, we imagined an intense and “short but sweet” itinerary around Lugano and its lake to take in the scenery. Continuing our exploration of Ticino, which began in the hills of Malcantone, we set out from Figino, a small municipality on the banks of the Ceresio, the point of arrival of our first itinerary through the canton. And here we met Giovanni Poretti, Lugano-born legal expert and economist, who for the tour lent us one of the most valuable pieces in his Alfa Romeo collection: a shiny pastel grey 2600 Coupé Sprint with its long front, ideal for housing the straight-6 engine. All in all, a very classy car and sufficiently glamorous for visiting the sophisticated and picturesque locations along the route. Starting from Morcote, an authentic lakeside gem, we pass through the village following the road keeping the lake on our right. Here the spectacle of the arcades adorning the luxury villas along the lakeside invites us to stop, even just for a refreshing drink while admiring the view across the water, with the Mottarello, Cascolo and Grumello mountains that draw the Italian coastline alongside the bay at Porto Ceresio. The village of Morcote stands on the bank. Strolling around the narrow streets, you take in some interesting architectural details and soak up the relaxing atmosphere; you really must climb the 400 steps at the back to reach the Renaissance church of Santa Maria del Sasso and the oratory next door, devoted to St Anthony of Padua. Right next to these two church buildings are the Scherrer Gardens, one of the amazing creations of Arthur Scherrer, from St Gallen, who in the early 1930s imaged a place that could contain all the wonders he collected on his travels around the world. Open from March to November and known as the “Garden of Wonders” (the naturalistic transposition of the “wunderkammer” that were so fashionable in the 19th century among aristocratic families), the park is home to numerous subtropical plants, bamboo forests and Mediterranean maquis, dotted with art works and reproductions of temples, villas and constructions styled to underline the eastern or western vegetation. Don’t miss it. Returning to the lakeside road, leaving Morcote, turn left up the slopes of Mount Arbostora towards Carona. This is a spectacular and really enjoyable road, even in the rather narrow stretches. The ideal place for making the most of the driving pleasure in a charming and very punchy car like the 2600 Sprint, as well as the technology that keeps the 520 HP of the red Giulia Quadrifoglio accompanying us at bay. It's quite hard to keep your eyes on the road without being distracted by the view, which in some points is absolutely breathtaking! Carona is a hamlet perched at an altitude of 600 metres above sea level, and is considered a neighbourhood of Lugano even though it lies 8 kilometres from the city. It is bursting with artistic expressions, with many houses decorated with sculpted friezes and fine details. The symbol of this pervasive refinery is the frescoed façade of the municipal Loggia and arcade: the building stands next to the church of San Giorgio (where you will also find a large 16th century painting inspired by Da Vinci’s Last Supper), with a bell tower in local pink stone and the sacristy above an arch over the road, all forming a beautiful square at the entrance to the village. Talking of religious buildings, the Madonna d’Onero sanctuary, with its porticoes and Via Crucis in front, occupies the top of the hill just outside the village. Driving downhill from Carona towards Lugano, we come across small hamlets and ancient villas looking over the lake to our left along the route. A large sign stating “Benvenuti al Paradiso” (“Welcome to Paradise”) should not be misconstrued: nothing supernatural, just the boundary with what is considered the most prestigious residential district of Lugano, but which in fact is a municipality in its own right. With its elegant and exclusive contemporary architecture, it is also the departure point of the funicular railway that runs 1660 metres to the top of Mount San Salvatore, a very popular scenic spot with breathtaking views over the lake and the peaks of the highest mountains in Switzerland and Italy. Lugano’s urban development, overseen by some of the greatest names in world architecture, is one of the most inspiring reasons for visiting the city. Starting from the buildings by Mario Botta, internationally renowned Ticino-born archistar which can be admired entering Lugano from Paradiso: the cylindrical Cinque Continenti centre, topped by a metallic structure, or, just outside the city centre in Via Pretorio, the red-brick Palazzo Ransilia, this time topped by a tree. The works of another Ticino-born architect, Ivano Gianola, include the spectacular LAC culture centre, which hosts exhibitions and artistic performances, as well as the MASI - Italian-Swiss Art Museum - , surprisingly built on pillars so as to not hinder the view of the lake. A suggestion: the centre of Lugano is quite compact with a large pedestrian area. It is worth visiting it on foot, maybe starting from the lakeside promenade. Visit the church of Santa Maria degli Angeli, next to the LAC, with its wonderful Renaissance fresco by Bernardino Luini “Passion and Crucifixion of Christ”, and enjoy a stroll along Via Nassa, which under the 270-metre-long arcade once used by fishermen to dry their nets, today offers classy shops and boutiques, up to the historical Villa Ciani and its gardens. Back in the car, the itinerary sets off once more from Villa Ciani towards Castagnola, leaving the lake for a few kilometres before finding it again on the right, at Ruvigliana, and on to Aldesago, on the slopes of Mount Brè, which with its 933 metres dominates the eastern part of the city. From here, along 6 kilometres of straight roads and wide sweeping bends, we reach Brè Sopra Lugano (its full name), a small hamlet with stone houses and streets, dotted with frescoes left by numerous artists – from Aligi Sassu to Wilhelm Schmid and Josef Birò – on the houses during their stays there both in summer and winter. From the village, a partially unpaved road leads to the top of the Brè in just a few minutes. In this charming panoramic spot, a terrace looks over Mount San Salvatore and the gulf of Lugano below. Then, looking up across the Alps and Monte Rosa, it springs to mind that perhaps it would really be worth putting up a sign “Welcome to Paradise”. THE COLLECTOR: Giovanni Poretti The "2600 Sprint" Not a particularly famous car, many have never driven it, but this has fuelled its reputation as a car with heavy steering, which is not true, especially when seen with the eyes of today and in relation to the cars of its time. I find it very pleasant to drive, it’s not a light car as it was intended for a certain type of use, a large touring coupé, although some people did try to race it on the track. The 2600 is quite agile, but don't be afraid of its weight (1370 kg) and size (4.58 m long, 2.58 m wheelbase): the engine is sufficiently powerful and has enough torque to be entertaining. I agree with the tests conducted by Road&Track at the time: they said don't worry about entering a bend at high speed, as once it gets in there the 2600 Sprint is stable and safe, and holds the road well, despite the tyres of the time not being what they are today. The Modern Alfas I have always been a car enthusiast, and an Alfa Romeo fan in particular. While I loved all the cars of the 1960s and most of those of the 70s, from then onwards I have noted some kind of increasing banalisation, in the sense that the characteristics of each brand have been lost, in favour of uniform performance. The ties with Alfa Romeo make me like its models more than others. I recovered this respect after all the events that have marked and rather watered down Alfa’s history, but which today place the company in the centre of a development programme that, I hope, will help it to regain those unique features that made it a worldwide driving legend.

Designer Paolo Martin shares the story of his P33 Roadster concept. The P33 Roadster was created shortly after the famous Ferrari Dino Berlinetta Competizione, crafted at Pininfarina. Characterized by sharp lines and edgy contours, this vehicle was an innovative interpretation of the roadster type. Presented at the 1968 Turin Motor Show, the P33 Roadster combined bold stylistic elements and advanced technical solutions, embodying the essence of automotive design of the era. Preface by Gilberto Milano Texts by Paolo Martin Photos and Drawings courtesy of the Paolo Martin Archive Surviving less than three years, it was then destroyed and sacrificed as an organ donor. A decision that forever deprived enthusiasts of the possibility to admire a car that, in its short life, represented more than any other the link between two eras: that of the “curvy” cars typical of the 1950s and ’60s, and the “sharp edges” that were popular from the late ‘60s and throughout the following decade. But that’s how things were in the coachbuilders of the time, whether small or large. It was a shame that the one who paid the price was precisely her, the Alfa Romeo P33 Roadster (the “P” stands for Pininfarina). Two years after being presented at the 1968 Turin Motor Show, she was completely stripped of her bodywork and her chassis was reused for the Alfa Romeo P33 Spider, exhibited by Pininfarina at the Brussels Motor Show in 1971. All that remains of the Alfa Romeo P33 Roadster are a few archive images, the sketches done at the time by the author, Paolo Martin, and his personal notes. You will remember that Paolo Martin revealed to SpeedHolics how this car was born, telling of the behind-the-scenes and its special place in the history of design. It was built on a chassis sent to Pininfarina in 1967, directly from Alfa Romeo after the Milan-based car manufacturer decided to halt the production of the 33 Stradale. This was one of the 18 chassis built for that splendid supercar (designed by Franco Scaglione), of which 50 were originally supposed to be manufactured but which was suspended after the thirteenth to make way for the Montreal, for which too many investments had already been made to give up on the project. After this, Alfa Romeo decided to send the remaining five unused chassis (along with the engines, all 2.0 litre, 230 HP Alfa Romeo V8s) to Italy’s most famous coachbuilders. They were to be used to produce Alfa Romeo-based dream cars to be put on show at the most prestigious international motor shows. And that was exactly what happened. In chronological order, the first coachbuilders to produce a show car on one of the five chassis was Bertone with the Alfa Romeo 33 Carabo designed by Marcello Gandini, exhibited at the Paris Motor Show in October 1968. A month later it was the turn of the car designed by Paolo Martin, which we will talk about here, the Alfa Romeo P33 Roadster, presented by Pininfarina at the Turin show that same year. A few months later, in March 1969, at the Geneva Show, once again Pininfarina showed off his style skills with the Alfa Romeo P33 Coupé Prototipo Stradale, the show car designed by Leonardo Fioravanti, derived from a Ferrari P5 that Enzo Ferrari didn't like and then “camouflaged” as an Alfa Romeo. At the Turin Show in November 1969, it was Giorgetto Giugiaro’s turn to present his idea of a dream car, based on the 33 Stradale chassis, at the Italdesign stand la Iguana. Two years later at the Brussels Show of 1971, Pininfarina presented the Alfa Romeo P33 Spider, again designed by Leonardo Fioravanti, and christened the “Cuneo” due to its extremely sharp lines inspired by the geometrical wedge shape. And this was precisely the show car for which Paolo Martin’s P33 Roadster was sacrificed. Finally, in 1976, at the Geneva Show, Bertone presented the Alfa Romeo 33 Navajo, again designed by Marcello Gandini, the sixth Alfa Romeo dream car born from the last of the famous five 33 Stradale chassis. The reason for the “sacrifice” of the P33 Roadster was never fully clarified. As often happened in the coachbuilders of the time, it was probably dictated by the urgent need to put a new concept car on display at a new Motor Show. But Paolo Martin never forgave this: powerless before the decision taken by Sergio Pininfarina, he still wonders if it was really worth it. Here, in his own words, is the story of the genesis of one of his most interesting concept cars. -¦- The P33 Roadster was born immediately after another famous dream car built by Pininfarina, the Ferrari Dino Berlinetta Competizione. Two cars with totally opposite styles: one very “curvy”, the Dino; the other with straight lines and sharp edges. There was really no clear reason why, in just a few months, this style revolution came about. Even today I wonder what the reasons behind this metamorphosis were. Probably the desire to propose something new, the attempt to clearly break with the habits of the past. The clear-cut lines also had a practical motivation; as often happened with all coachbuilders, a new prototype had to be created for the Motor Show in a very short time, and this had to be both easy to build and modern and original in style. The fact is that all the stylists moved towards square lines and wedge shapes. Luck had it that I was given a real chassis with a functioning engine; a beautiful, special, very low tubular chassis with a rear engine. But we really weren’t particularly interested in having a real chassis at our disposal: the work was done on the drawings, we had a dimensional drawing with all the sizes and measurements, interior space and so on, and that’s what we used to develop our ideas. I remember that I was appointed to do the design because at that time I had less work on than the others. It had to be a quick design to implement. It was June, and the car had to be ready for the Turin Motor Show in November. As usual, we had to make do with what we had. So the theme we chose was a new interpretation of the roadster. The car was a compromise on style, a mix of curves and straight lines. I can’t remember how we got to that choice, but these are the kind of intuitions that come to you, and that day that’s what I decided to do. Maybe the day after I would have done things differently. The simplicity of the bodywork was expressed through the straight lines and the lack of doors and roof, but the whole car had a really strong personality thanks to some of its characteristic features, like the wedge-shaped profile and plan view, with very small front end. As can be seen, the wedge starts from the black rubber front bumper, a novelty for the time, and ends with the rear K-tail, cutting the front mudguard (rounded in shape to add a softer feel to the overall look) in half. To me it seems that by breaking up the wedge shape with curved inserts added personality to the car. The black rubber front bumper had a purely aesthetic terminal function, but helped to make both the front and sides more aerodynamic. In addition, it partly hid the wide front air intake at the bottom. The two small adjustable appendices, another feature of this concept car, should have offered a new solution for optimising the aerodynamic flow, but more than anything had an aesthetic function. Renzo Carli, Sergio Pininfarina’s right-hand man, came up with the idea, suggesting that they add them to the sides when he saw the design: “Let’s try and add something,” he said. The headlight unit, fitted in a single retracting, tilting module, was a forced addition: Leonardo Fioravanti was the one with a mania for single headlights. And so he was happy too. To reduce the complexity of the design and consequently increase the production speed, I reduced the size of the two doors to make them practically non-existent, hinged at the front and opening upwards. They had to be made this way because getting into the vehicle was complicated by the presence of the main spars of the chassis, which ran right beneath the doors making it almost impossible to get into the passenger compartment. The low, wrap-around windscreen had to be tiny to maintain the clean lines of the wedge. Initially I had thought of fitting Naca ducts in the side, as can be seen in a rendering, but then I took them out because they seemed over the top. They were just another complication, one of those solutions that seemed simple to apply but which then make your life difficult. Everything that was taken away made the car cheaper and easier to build. In the end the side had a clean line, the only thing protruding slightly were the rear wheel arches, which was necessary to house the very wide tyres. The most surprising innovation of this Roadster was the roll-bar with a hydraulically driven adjustable cast aluminium fin, which also housed the oil circuit. This style element had three functions: the fin, to adjust the downforce; as an air-air heat exchanger and a protection if the car overturned. It was aesthetically pleasing but there was no follow-up and the solution was never used on other cars. The idea was actually very spectacular, but also rather unrealistic: if the fin broke, there was a concrete risk of boiling oil pouring onto your head. The rear engine had eight intake trumpets that poked out of a rectangular opening in the rear, protruding just a little and without ruining the line of the boot, which ended in a vertical K-tail. This had four rectangular lights fitted longitudinally around an exhaust unit set in an aluminum finned frame to dissipate the heat. The interior was perhaps even more essential, but with some characteristics that make it unique, with two anatomic seats and the transversal frame supporting the dashboard and the controls. This transversal frame also served as the pipe for the internal air circulation. Its style was very similar to the ultra-modern steering wheel. The car was not only beautiful but apparently very pleasant to drive, as the racing-style mechanics borrowed from the Alfa Romeo 33 Stradale worked like a dream. It’s a shame that it didn’t reach our times, at least not in this shape: the chassis was disassembled and reused for the 1971 Cuneo.

Our colleague the engineer Luigi Marmiroli has devoted a simple but fond tribute to the Master designer Marcello Gandini. Words Luigi Marmiroli Photography Courtesy of Luigi Marmiroli Archive Marcello Gandini left us on 13 March at the age of 85. His unmistakeable signature on the style of 20th century cars remains immortal. An infinite number of words, books, articles and web files bear witness to his style genius. His designs run from sports and road cars to trucks and even an original helicopter. Here however I will only mention the designs for Automobili Lamborghini. Having joined the famous Carrozzeria Bertone very young, from 1966 to 1978, Gandini designed icons including the Miura P400, Marzal, Espada, P250 Urraco, 400GT Jarama, Countach, Bravo and Silhouette. Going freelance in 1980, he was appointed to design the style of the future Diablo (technical code P132). For over a decade from 1985, Gandini remained Lamborghini’s stylistic and philosophical benchmark. Despite the corporate trials and tribulations and the style inputs of various shareholders, the Italian managers at Lamborghini always admired his work. This is why I’m sure that the fans of SpeedHolics will not mind if I devote these few lines to him. This tribute aims to recall Gandini’s huge contribution, especially to the Diablo project, which gave me the opportunity to have contacts with him for over ten years as the Technical Manager of the “House of the Bull”. His style genius, along with his in-depth engineering skills, made him unique. I was very pleased when Turin Polytechnic awarded him an honorary degree in Mechanical Engineering. I was present at the ceremony and listened to his “Lectio Magistralis”, which, who would know, was to be his professional testament. Unfortunately, he passed away peacefully just two months later. I recorded his speech, although the audio quality is poor. However, you can look for it online if you wish. I shall never forget his exceptional human qualities. Gandini was a real gentleman, and a modest man despite his calibre. Only after a lot of insisting he accepted to sign the design for the Diablo bodywork, the only design of this type. I promise that in future we will examine all the other designs for Automobili Lamborghini, including the sketches, models, prototypes and concepts. However, to conclude, let me highlight one of the 17 Diablo “children”. The Lamborghini Diablo Roadster Concept, showcases all of Marcello's stylistic quality. Historically, Lamborghini had explored open-top versions including the 350GT and the Miura Spyder, which Ferruccio Lamborghini considered too affected. However, the temptation to propose an open-top Diablo was irresistible. An extreme car, with no roof and a very limited windscreen, was not a mere exercise in style. The Roadster’s beauty concealed long engineering studies to maintain the rigidity of the roofless chassis. The oversized air intakes, the shorter gear ratios and the new engine electronics made the car easier to drive, with no overheating problems at relatively low speeds. The aerodynamics were not designed for very high speeds, but for those looking for thrills, with the 12-cylinder engine singing and the wind in their hair. Once again, Gandini exalted the mechanics while maintaining the Lamborghini design philosophy. Farewell Marcello, we will miss you.

When he invented the Magicflash in 1983, the world of automotive photography was changed forever. But this futuristic invention was only one way in which the German photographer innovated his way to the top of his craft, making his name shooting Mercedes-Benz and Porsche, among many others, along the way. In an exclusive interview with SpeedHolics, the celebrated photographer and founder of Staud Studios tells us tales of fortune, ingenuity, and relentless ambition Words Sean Campbell Photography René Staud Fuerteventura, Spain, 1972. A 21 year old René Staud is standing on a sand dune on the undeveloped, unfrequented island of Fuerteventura. He was about to take the photograph that would launch a tourism boom. Set against the glittering Atlantic ocean backdrop, a dune buggy launching off the ridge,  front wheels mid-air, the rear pair just grazing the surface of the sand. “The Leap over the Dune” sparked a sense of adventure and ignited the first major influx of international travelers to the now popular Canary Island. Just a day or two prior however, Staud was little more than a clerk in a photography shop in Stuttgart. Freshly trained as a photographer, he was making ends meet at Foto Krauss, when an ambitious real estate developer walked in. He boldly asked for the most expensive camera available. When Staud showed up to the man’s office that afternoon to deliver the camera, a chain of events were set in motion that would kickstart his career. Around a decade later, his invention of the Magicflash propelled Staud into the higher echelons of automotive imagery, and led to him becoming one of the most influential and important car photographers in history. But let’s go back to the beginning... “I came from an artistic family. My father was a wood sculptor. But this was post World War II  Germany, so there wasn’t a good income,” Staud offers. “He sold some small works from time to time, but there was a problem. When he sold a piece, he would have to describe it in words to the next potential customer. He had no pictures.” It was this necessity that led a ten year old Staud to pick up a camera for the first time. Even in those first moments, he had a fascination with lighting. “He bought a film roll and lent me his camera. I decided to make these offset images, contrasting light and dark effects. We used these images to sell works within weeks. That's when I realized you could use pictures to communicate or even sell. Over the next few years I became the photographer for all the makers and artisans on my street.” By the time he was 14, Staud had won his first photography awards. “There was a competition at my local youth center, where we went to learn about music and art, and in my case photography. Kodak had sponsored this competition to promote the new Instamatic camera, the first camera with a film roll, ready to shoot. 50 of us had to go out and shoot in one day – whatever we wanted, houses, people, etcetera.” “My theme was ‘industrial dynamic’. I took pictures on the street and at the station of trains passing by. I had no idea what I was shooting because we just handed the cameras back at the end. A few weeks later I learned that three of my images finished in the top 5. I came first, second, and fifth!” With his prizes, Staud showed his first flair for business and investment. “I traded the three small cameras I won for one SLR (single-lens reflex) camera.” And so René Staud the photographer was born. The conditions in which Staud grew up allowed him, or perhaps forced him, to pick up skills quickly, “Being born into this handcraft-oriented family, and in my neighborhood, where wood and steel and such things abounded, I had to learn things quickly. I used all the lessons at the youth center to get better. I built my own black and white lab at home – it was half a washroom and half a darkroom!” Armed with his trusty SLR and a place to develop his work, the teenage Staud began to seek an income from his passion. “There were these dance clubs every Wednesday and Saturday for young people. I went and took pictures every Wednesday. Then I’d develop them at home, and go back to sell them on Saturdays and take more to sell Wednesday again! It was great for me but not great for my school results.” It didn’t take long for Staud to meet his first challenge as a young semi-pro photographer – color images. One of the markers of his career is how he’s always managed to get ahead of the game and invest in the future, and it was the same in the late 1960s. “Color prints were now in big demand, so I needed a place to develop my images. This was the beginning of a good friendship with a local photo store I’d go to to develop in color. And this was how after school, I got my first job. The photographer in the store had fallen in love with this beautiful dancer who was moving to Melbourne, and he was set on following her! When I showed up on my last day of school, the owner said ‘You’re here early. Shouldn’t you be in school? I just told him ‘No more school. Forever’! Right then and there he offered me the photographer’s job, but only taking passport photos and things like that. I started a few weeks after that and started to do my photography training. He paid me very little but it was work, and I still shot parties on weekends.” The next few years saw Staud go on something of an early career odyssey which would bring him through the automotive world and right back to photography. Because of the low pay at the shop and the financial demands of his training, he took up a job at a friend's gas station, pumping fuel, cleaning cars and doing handiwork on cars. One gas station job led to another – one which was often frequented by VIPs. “I got great tips from them, but I worked all day and came home late at night tired and covered in oil. I went there for the money but I lost a lot of friendships because I couldn’t go out.” Tired of the lifestyle, Staud took his newly earned photography diploma and got a job at Foto Krauss, where this story began. “Just a few days after I started, that businessman – the Fuerteventura property developer – walked in.” In his personal essay “My First Car Shoot” which details his meeting with the developer and delivering the camera to his office, Staud writes: “As I sat there in the secretary’s office and the minutes ticked by, I was starting to sweat… after an hour, the man came out of his board office and just said in passing, ‘Oh, you’re still sitting there. I don’t have time now… come down to the car with me quickly.’ And I ran down beside him into the garage and was suddenly sitting in his Opel V8 Diplomat with all the cardboard crap on my lap, and he said, “Please don’t try to explain the camera to me now, I still have calls to make… Twenty minutes later we were standing at the airport, a barrier went up in front of us, and there I am looking up at this giant plane, his private jet… I don’t know how it happened, anyway, at some point the doors are closed, the engines start, the plane takes off, and four hours later we land somewhere in the Atlantic on an island that nobody in Germany knew about… I never went back to the camera store. Over the coming months, Staud spent time coming and going from Fuerteventura, photographing marketing materials for the developer’s company as he turned the deserted island into a powerful tourism hot spot. The most historic of these is the “Leap over the Dune”. Now a made-it, professional photographer, Staud spent the 1970s carving out a niche for himself shooting product images for a range of high end companies, but he was quickly becoming more and more interested in cars. “I had a Porsche and a Mercedes-Benz S Class. But back then, there wasn’t much really good marketing for these brands. It wasn’t until the post war recovery was almost complete that they really started to think about better advertising materials. So in 1982, I started to think about how I could make money in cars. These car companies now had huge campaign budgets – no questions asked, big money. But here is the problem I noticed: When you shot a car in the street or in the garage, it looked like anyone could do it. What style of photography could make cars so unique and sexy? I had to shoot cars like they were jewels. No more street, no more forest, no more supermarket family friendly.” This realization marked the beginning of a period of experimentation that would eventually lead to the invention of the technology that would take Staud into the stratosphere — the Magicflash. “I began studying with small scale models of cars, experiment with light effects. No spotlights or light cubes worked on reflective cars. The sexy, glossy look you can only create with very smooth, very direct light. You need a lightbox. The first one I made with a shoebox. I illuminated car models with it and it worked. But then I needed to adapt this in large size. And I would need one hundred thousand lights in my box! I was told I was crazy – that I’d use it two days a year only and go bankrupt. But if I wanted to follow my passion, I had to find a style that made me unique. That would give me access to the very best clients.” So Staud borrowed and invested in a huge lightbox that would put that now ubiquitous sheen on a car in the studio. This was the Magicflash. Staud was convinced that his invention would cause a huge stir, that it would excite people and make him a star in the industry. In 1982, he decided to throw a huge launch party for the Magicflash, forking out on catering, entertainment, VIP treatment. “Six weeks before the launch I met a videographer who wanted to shoot a whole film for big screens to showcase the Magicflash. I was sold, and ended up buying out five parking areas nearby, and screens on the street. I thought we could get 2,000 people to join! … In the end, 20 people came… It was a catastrophe. More screens on the street than people in the audience. I had catered for at least 600! I went to the office and shut myself away, deciding to quit this dream.” While Staud was laying low, hiding his shame and embarrassment, there came a knock on the door from an unexpected guest. “It was the marketing manager for Mercedes Benz. He asked me if he could book me for 80 days that year, and 250 days the next.” While virtually nobody had come to the party, the right people had come. It wasn’t only the Mercedes-Benz leaders that had come either…“30 minutes later, a similar guy came from Porsche.” With that, Staud was the photographer for the country’s greatest car manufacturers. Staud found himself in such high demand through the mid 1980s that he was barely able to keep up with his schedule. “In 1986 I had 1,000 shooting days in a year! How was this possible?” Staud had to get creative to meet demand, creating better workflows and being more efficient than any other photographer had ever been. “I needed a new studio. My architect came to watch me work for a few weeks and came up with his plan. We built Staud Studios in 1985 and opened in 1986. It was hard work. 12 hours shooting, six hours creating and developing, six hours planning the studio and directing the build.” “I thought I’d need four people to work there, but in the end I needed more than thirty! The only way I managed was to set up more workstations and break down the shots into different flows andsetups. I mean, BMW gave me 28 cars at once! How could we do this? So I set up these different stations and focused on different things – in this corner we’d shoot the dashboard, over there the front, over there the wheels and so on. We worked all day and night. In daytime we’d make the beauty shots, and at night we’d bring in junior staff and freelancers and go right through the night on the nitty gritty.” While Staud is most famous for inventing the Magicflash, a lesser known fact is that he was one of the first commercial photographers – if not the first – to embrace retouching and editing technology in his work, and at scale. What this meant for this work turnover was mega efficiency, mega scalability, and mega success. “In 1998 I was at Photokina (the world’s largest photography and imaging industries trade fair). I was asked what I thought the most important development or instrument was going to be in the industry. I said retouching technology – and nobody agreed with me. They all said it was too expensive to buy the machines, that it was a poor investment.” Just like he’d done before, Staud went against the grain and followed his instincts. “After six months I owned three machines and had nine people working them. My turnover was incredible.” What this retouching technology gifted Staud Studios more than anything else, was time, and as a result, access to volume. “There was a shoot I did for the S Class. 500 shots. But there was a mistake! The wrong grill had been installed on the model I’d shot, and this made it look like an E Class. Anyone else would have to go back and shoot the whole thing again – months and months of work. But we were able to retouch them and stay on track, while I prepared the next batch of work.” Staud Studios has kept up with, or stayed ahead of, the times, to the point where it is still one of Europe’s most respected studios, and Staud is still known as a legend in the field of automotive photography. His sons have taken over the majority of business operations, and the company has recently merged with the celebrated global creative production company Mediamonks. But Staud now has all the time in the world for shooting as a passion. Before we get off our call, he shows me what he’s up to today. A gorgeous Porsche 917 – the car that dominated sports car racing in the early 70s, including wins and Le Mans in 1970 and 71. Still fascinated by classic cars (like ourselves here at SpeedHolics, and our readers), I ask for one more minute of his time. I’m keen to hear his thoughts on classic race car culture, and how it stacks up against modern car manufacturing. “Nowadays everything is overdone,” He affirms,”The best period was in the 70s, when cars often had maximum 200hp. This was pure driving. The development back then was immense.” He wraps things up by explaining his gripe with modern cars. “They’re not so much fun. Cars today have everything, but they don't have identity. You can’t control a 1,000 hp car – it controls you. That’s why we’re so into classic cars. For mass mobility, more safety was a good thing. But for fun, it was bad.” We’re on the same page then.

Several years ago, I was at a major automotive event watching a lot of famous, big-name builders greet their adoring public and show off their latest builds. As is often the case I was in the back of the crowd studying the events at hand looking for photo opportunities that caught my eye. Standing a few feet from me was a man who was also watching, and he caught my attention. Something about the confidence with which he stood there and the seemingly kind and genuine aura he radiated made me notice. Words & Photography by Tim Scott (IG: Scott Photo Co.) I remembered seeing him a couple of times previously though I couldn’t recall exactly where, so I went up and introduced myself. His handshake was firm and confident, and he said that his name was Lynn Park. I really had no idea who I had just met but I was sure that there was something interesting to this man’s story. It was only years later that I would come to learn that Lynn Park was known worldwide as Mr. Cobra and had been deeply involved with the Cobra story, almost since the beginning, and was a friend and confidant of legendary men like Peter Brock, Mike McCluskey and even Mr. Carroll Shelby himself. This is a story of a man with a love and passion for the iconic Cobra that has lasted more than 60 years and is still going strong. Lynn Park grew up in Southern California during a time of immense optimism and prosperity following the darkness of WWII. Working at a service station meant that Lynn had to learn about cars, as in those days’ “service” meant more than just putting gas into cars. From fluids to tires to engines, Lynn was building the foundation of knowledge that would serve him for the rest of his life. When he got his driver’s license in 1959 his mom gifted him the ’56 Ford Mainline that had been her daily driver. With gearhead blood already flowing through his veins he went down to the local scrapyard and bought a 410 cubic inch Edsel motor to put in the underpowered Ford. Everyday he learned more about his automobiles as he and his friends worked to make them nicer, faster, and more fun. Soon he discovered that he could buy stripped and totaled cars from the same scrapyard, often very clean cars simply missing an engine or an interior or needing basic body work to make them road worthy again. He would buy, repair, and then sell them to fund his growing love for cars and was soon driving very nice cars himself. Lynn’s sister’s boyfriend, Joe, was also into cars at this time and owned a Lotus. Of course, this led to many spirited discussions about horsepower versus handling. One fateful day Joe brought the September 1962 issue of Road & Track magazine that had this new “Shelby AC Cobra” on the cover. A sleek, curvaceous, sexy body with V8 power? This one moment and photograph lit a spark in Lynn that was to become a lifelong passion. With curiosity overflowing Lynn drove down to Venice where the Shelby “factory” was at the time. By this point, after flipping many cars, he was able to drive a really nice automobile so when he drove up, they assumed that he could actually afford one of these hot, new sports cars. Carroll Shelby did his best to sell him one not knowing that he was unable to afford one. While Lynn didn’t buy a Cobra then, Carroll and the staff at the Cobra factory were so nice to him that he just started coming back time and time again. He befriended many of the people there and before long most people just assumed he worked there. Lynn really wanted a Cobra but couldn’t afford one, so he bought an AC, put a V8 in it and made, perhaps, the very first Cobra replica ever. From 1963-1967 Lynn raced his home-made “Cobra”, attended college at UCLA and enjoyed life in Southern California. In 1967 Lynn joined the Army and was honorably discharged in late 1969. It was now 1972, and Lynn was determined to get his first “real” Cobra. He found a wrecked one for $2,100, ordered parts directly from AC and started the rebuild. Before his first Cobra was even finished, he found another Cobra, the 10th ever built, which had also been wrecked and was now in parts. He purchased this one for $2,000. As was the norm for the time he bought a new, original AC body and completely rebuilt the car. This was just the beginning as he started buying every Cobra he could find. Working on his Cobras alongside a legend himself, Mike McCluskey, who has done all of the paint and body work on Lynn’s Cobras from day one, Lynn has learned every little detail of his cars with his own hands building priceless experience for use for the next 50+ years. L.P. "The yellow car is a 1963 Cobra. It’s the car that my wife and I have taken on thirty “Cobra 1000” tours over the years. I put a Tremec 3550 five speed transmission in it to reduce the RPMs during the long road trips. Otherwise, the car is very original and is a fun car to drive.” Lynn continued buying, repairing, and driving Cobras from that time on supporting his habit while running several successful businesses. He has never approached buying Cobras as an investment and will quickly caution would-be buyers against doing so. L.P. “I don’t look at them as money-makers or an investment. Don’t buy a car thinking of it as an investment. That means that you’re not going to use it. You’re going to park it and wait for the opportune time to sell it.” Lynn drives all of his cars. Some are street cars, and some are race cars. With many, many Cobras passing through his hands through the years, he currently owns 10 “real” Cobras, 10 replicas and 6 of them are race cars. Every single one has its own personality, patina and story and is “perfect”, to him. He explained to me that cars that are banged up often have more personality than a “perfect” car (ask him about his Cobra that he’s affectionately named “Dirtbag”). L.P. “The #12 Cobra is one of the five FIA Cobras that Shelby built to race in Europe.  It has been vintage raced since the early 1980s by a good friend of mine who sold the car to me about a year ago. As you can see it’s got a lot of “Patina” but to me that’s part of the charm of this car. No one mistakes the car for a replica, that’s for sure. In addition to being raced for so many years it has participated in the famous “Cobra 1000” tour for ten years or more.” To be clear, Lynn has no issue with replicas. Proof-in-point, he owns ten. Shelby officially stopped production of “real” Cobras in 1967 only to return years later and make replicas himself. The good thing with replicas available is that you can still get parts, which would likely be nearly impossible to come by otherwise. Having more Cobras out there allows more people to see and appreciate their beauty and uniqueness. “Real” or “replica”, these cars are meant to drive. Lynn and his family and friends have been vintage racing his Cobras since 1982, racing all over the country at tracks from Monterey to Willow Springs, to Lime Rock, to Watkins Glenn, to Kansas City and St. Louis, to Road America and more. To this day, Lynn and his sons, Steve, and Tim, race their Cobras twice a year at Willow Springs. They would often take “Cobra 1000” trips – 1,000-mile trips driving with a group of Cobras to destinations across the country. Just because “driving a Cobra is fun!” This brings us back to the big question of why Cobra? L.P. “You know what’s fun about Cobras? You meet the people that own them and almost without exception they’re nice people.” The more Lynn talked about his years with his Cobras the more it sounded like a family. His entire family was involved from the early days – from making 1,000-mile trips, to racing with his sons – to this day the Cobras are a family affair. Beyond that there is an entire extended family and close community built around the love for the Cobra – a community of friends built over the past 50 years that still gathers as friends, brought together and united by this car. L.P. "The maroon coupe is a 1959 AC Aceca. I have owned it since 1985 and it reminds me of the Aceca that I bought in 1963 when I couldn’t afford a Cobra. The Cobra was $6000 and the Aceca was $1500. I promptly swapped the original six-cylinder engine for a 289, added a four-speed transmission and had my own Cobra. When I bought this particular car, it had no engine or transmission so the decision to put a 289 in it was an easy one. This car has Cobra disc brakes all around, Cobra rack-and-pinion steering and Cobra suspension so it’s basically a 289 Cobra with an Aceca body. There were only 350 or so of these cars built and even fewer than that in the U.S. which makes it virtually unknown to anyone but an AC enthusiast." The Cobra has lived and thrived well beyond its relatively short manufacture period. Its essence is so much more about the car and the experience than some kind of perceived “status”. It’s a different kind of supercar. Even Carroll Shelby himself, while bold and larger than life, was always about the car and the people that loved it. Whenever there was a Cobra event, Shelby would show up. He was kind and accommodating to the crowds, signing autographs, and talking to them about the cars. A kind and genuine person attracting other kind and genuine people that would become part of the Cobra family. For many years the Cobra was the epitome of a performance car. It was doing everything better than what was being offered at the time. It’s noisy, it’s hot, it’s cold, it’s open to the elements and that’s part of what makes it special. When you drive a Cobra, you experience the world in a more immersive and memorable way. When is the last time you remember fondly driving your perfectly comfortable, soundproofed, fully enclosed car? This is a car for the pure joy of driving, for experiencing your journey in a way that no other can offer. It’s not for everyone and you may have to make time to wave and talk to complete strangers who may or may not know just how valuable and special this car is. L.P. “The silver 427 is a Kirkham replica. It was built by Mike McCluskey roughly thirty years ago.  It has a 427 engine and a top loader transmission and is as accurate in every aspect to an original 427 SC.  With its big tires and loads of power it is a ball to drive.” But to Mr. Cobra, the true value has always been in the friends he has made, the experiences he has lived and the joy of sharing that love and passion with all who will listen. Even with so many years of owning, driving and being involved with Cobras you can still see the smile on his face and hear the passion in his voice as he talks about his family of Cobras and friends. In his words, “Someone my age has grown up with the best 80 years of American history”. These days Mr. Cobra still drives each and every one of his cars. Whether on the track, or even just an 8 mile drive up the beautiful Angeles Crest Highway, these cars are loved and driven. People like Louis Hamilton, Jay Leno, Ashton Kutcher, and so many others from all over the world call him for information and his expertise – and of course, advice on buying a Cobra. The next time you are at a car event take a moment to look to see if there is a quiet, unassuming gentlemen in the back wearing perhaps a hat or shirt with a Cobra logo. If you see him, say hello, ask him about Cobra and enjoy some wonderful stories from a wonderful man. This is what the Cobra family is all about.