GT40 goes like hell at Manfeild
The iconic GT40 is at Manfeild ahead of the NZ Grand Prix. Lisa Houston went for a joyride.
Ican think of at least 10 people I know personally who would be incredibly jealous I went for five laps at the Manfeild race track in this legendary car. It’s fair to say I had no idea quite how esteemed it was before today. It’s a Ford GT40 Mark II. To motorsport fans, that’s cool enough as a standalone sentence, but it’s not just any old version of the high-performance endurance car.
This one is an exact replica of arguably the most famous GT40 ever – the car in which New Zealanders Chris Amon and Bruce Mclaren won the 1966 24 Hours of Le Mans race.
It was the first Le Mans win ever for Ford and the Kiwis.
It’s even been driven by the late Chris Amon himself and dons his autograph on the driver’s side door.
Manfeild is already thriving with activity as cars growl around the track when I arrive two days ahead of the New Zealand Grand Prix to meet the illustrious GT40 and its owner Grant Aitken. Aitken, a racing driver and Lexus Motorsport Ambassador, had the car built in 2010 as a tribute to the impressive Le Mans win. Aitken is a smooth operator and notably laidback despite the chunk of shiny half-million-dollar metal sitting beside him drawing attention from every person in the general vicinity. Even the Toyota Racing Series Grand Prix drivers who live and breathe fast cars are in awe of this beast in their midst. The GT40 seems like a big deal and I really want to approach my ride with the bravery of someone who isn’t secretly afraid of passing cars on the open road and with the appreciation of a true motorsport fan. Manfeild’s Gavin Halls tells me it’s the first time this ‘‘very, very special car’’ has visited the recently renamed Manfeild Circuit Chris Amon. ‘‘Most of the guys here would give their right-arm to have a go in that.’’ After myself and Aitken today, the next person to drive it will be motorsport legend and Amon’s former Ferrari teammate Jacky Ickx.
It’s at this moment I realise how lucky I am and instantly feel awesome to be the only one getting a ride in the car today. I am the chosen one.
The fact I’m one-upping a large group of blokes is a bonus.
I am warned wearing the racing suit, gloves and helmet will get incredibly hot, not to mention the giant engine right behind my head as I, not at all gracefully, slide into the car’s snug seat.
Amon and Mclaren, and other Le Mans drivers, spent up to four hours at a time driving at breakneck speeds in this sweaty situation.
As Amon said at last year’s 50th anniversary of the historic win – it’s a real test of man and machine.
Aitken cranks up the mighty machine and we rumble out of the pit and on to the track as onlookers gather along the fence.
The car picks up speed and I flail my arms about trying to find something to hold on to, not knowing what to expect.
The first few laps I’m thinking ‘‘this isn’t so bad’’.
Coming to the end of the second lap Aitken looks at me with a mischievous grin on his face and yells ‘‘wanna go faster?’’ I nod and try to keep my eyes open as the car roars and its power is unleashed, sucking my head to the back of the seat.
I am a mixture of laughs and squeals as we speed around the track and the ground seemingly hurtles towards my face.
It’s exhilarating, but slightly terrifying. It feels dangerous yet completely safe and it’s like nothing I’ve done before.
Afterwards, I am buzzing, my mouth is dry and my foot is sore from trying to push the imaginary brakes.
When I ask how fast we went, Aitken laughs and casually says he’s not sure. ‘‘There’s no speedo, but in the 200s.’’ After that, I not only completely understand the magnetic attraction of this brute of a car, but I feel pretty damn legendary myself.