FORD CORTINA
Few tin-top images are more iconic than Jim Clark three-wheeling or drifting a Lotus-developed Cortina. A class dominator in the mid-1960s, the 1600cc machine was also capable of taking on the V8 hordes for honours, though it’s probably worth pointing out the great Clark scored all seven of the Cortina’s outright BTCC victories, so it wasn’t necessarily possible for mere mortals.
Even so, the Cortina’s relatively lightweight, enthusiastic engine and abusable chassis placed it nicely between the rumbling V8s and diminutive Minis of the era. A European Touring Car title winner in the hands of John Whitmore, the Cortina has also become a pacesetting and popular mainstay in pre-1966 historic tin-top competition.
Historic ace Simon Hadfield, who has scored many wins in Cortinas, is a big fan. “It was the first proper Q-car,” reckons Hadfield. “It didn’t look remarkably different to a standard two-door 1200 Cortina, but it was a rocket ship. In 1963, in among Farina A40s and Austin Cambridges, this thing was unearthly. And some of the best drivers ever – everybody who was anybody – drove one, and they raced all over the world.”
Our example is an original Alan Mann Cortina, resplendent in iconic red and gold livery. This car raced in the BTCC and ETCC in 1965-66, driven by the likes of Whitmore, Frank Gardner, Lucien Bianchi, Jacky Ickx and Jackie Stewart. The names of Stewart and Whitmore adorn its panels. It also competed in Sweden before being brought back to the UK in 2000. It was then “put back to what it should be”, according to Alan’s son Henry. That means it is genuine period spec, even to the point of having no rollcage.
It has never competed in historics and is saved only for demonstrations. It is thus one of the most original racing Cortinas in the world. “You would have to butcher it to race it now,” says Henry, who has been gracious enough to wheel it out for one such run to celebrate the BTCC’S 60th birthday with Autosport.
Because this car has survived unmolested by the relentless progress that infects most of historic motorsport, it feels an absolute world away from anything I have ever driven before on a circuit. It’s just a road car basically – and a bloody old one at that. No rollcage, no harness, no frills. I’m told the engine produces only 130bhp – well down on the ‘modern’ racing examples that are pushing closer to 200.
It has no brakes to speak of really, and certainly no power. I reach fourth gear early on the Brabham Straight and am left wondering where the next one is! The engine
is struggling to run cleanly in the cold conditions too and the car is very slow. It makes you realise just how far things have moved on when you consider this was a cutting edge racing tin-top just over 50 years ago.
On track this car feels like what it is – an antique museum piece. It’s so delicate I feel like it could shatter into a million pieces if I even so much as think about leaning on it. It’s like driving a Faberge egg with four wheels. I also don’t feel worthy. This is a genuine piece of motorsport history – not to be messed with. It is an honour to even sit in it, let alone take it out for a spin.
Later examples, prepared purely for historic racing, are incredibly spectacular to watch and much faster now than this car is.
I didn’t exit this particular Cortina with a huge grin on my face – more puzzled bemusement. But that is my own fault. I belong to a different time, one a world away from the period in which this car made its name. You cannot hold the past against something that is defined by it, and quite rightly has made no attempt whatsoever to ‘get with the times’.