Ring of fire
South Africa’s most famous racetrack, recently bought on auction for R205-million, has a history laced with glamour, tragedy and hedonism, writes Thomas Falkiner
OPENED on November 4 1961, the Kyalami Grand Prix circuit was a theatre of high-octane dreams built to usher in a brave new era of motorsport misadventure. The brainchild of the then Johannesburg mayor, Dave Marais, and the newly formed South African Motor Racing Club, this 4.1km loop of asphalt boasted a ballsy mixture of blind offcamber corners and one of the fastest main straights the world had ever seen.
It was to cars what Wanderers Stadium was to cricket bats and balls. Although other locales were briefly considered — Lombardy East and Alberton — neither was endowed with the requisite elevation changes its creators were looking for.
The 130ha farm Bothasfontein, as it was known back then, scored highly in terms of convenience. Halfway between Johannesburg and Pretoria, it was also a helmet-throw away from the now infamous Barbecue Ranch Hotel: a happy hunting ground where dapper playboy drivers would prey on and devour legions of female racing groupies.
As a headlining motorsport venue Kyalami seemed to have it all. The access. The setting. The challenge. Straight out of the blocks drivers from numerous classes and categories waxed lyrical about its mettletesting layout, which was encouraging for companies such as Basil Read and Caltex which had pumped in the money required to help build the track.
While its bitumen separated the men from the boys, spectators thrilled at the wide-open veld that surrounded the circuit. It gave people space to set up camp with tents and caravans and elaborate makeshift kitchens, supplemented with polystyrene cooler boxes of ice-cold Lion or Castle lager. Kyalami quickly became one of the best places in the country to kick back, relax and fire up a braai. Especially when Formula One became a calendar staple from 1967 to 1985.
“There was one hell of a vibe,” recalls South African racing legend Ian Scheckter. “Everybody would camp out in the middle of the track [infield], have a party and get pissed.”
Scheckter, like his brother Jody, en- tered the world of Formula One in the 1970s. Although not as successful as Jody, many believe Ian was actually the more talented — he just didn’t get as many lucky breaks.
“I never used to eat on the day of a race, until after the race of course, and the guys would all be braaiing around the circuit. And I would be going around the track getting this smell of chops and boerewors every lap and, you know, it would make me quite hungry.”
After scoring sporadic part-time drives for the likes of Hesketh and Williams, Scheckter hustled together enough cash for a full season in 1977, the year in which Kyalami witnessed one of its most grisly accidents.
Welsh driver Tom Pryce had got off to a lousy start for Shadow Racing and was scything his way through the field — which included James Hunt and Niki Lauda — from last place.
On lap 21, while Pryce was breathing down the exhaust pipes of HansJoachim Stuck, two marshals ran across the main straight to help extinguish a car that had caught fire.
Stuck just managed to avoid them but Pryce speared into one of the marshals, Frederik Jansen van Vuuren, at 270km/h. The body of the 19-yearold marshal disintegrated and the fire extinguisher he was carrying half-decapitated Pryce. His car continued down the straight until ploughing into the Ligier of Frenchman Jacques Laffite. The race continued, to be won by Lauda in a Ferrari.
“I was supposed to be in that race,” says Scheckter. “But my legs were in plaster after a Formula Atlantic accident so Stuck took my place. From what I understand Stuck managed to see the marshal as he was ahead.
“When you’re following, you see nothing — especially in a singleseater, because you are so low. That’s why Pryce didn’t see the marshal and Stuck was able to swerve that little bit to avoid him.
“So in one way I was pleased my legs were in plaster. I am not saying I would have been in the exact same place but let’s just say I could have been close, you know?”
Kyalami is full of ghosts. Yet for all that it took, it also gave. The track was instrumental in the rise of Sarel “SuperVan” van der Merwe.
“I was involved with Kyalami from the beginning,” he tells me over the phone. “My father was one of the South African Motor Racing Club members who built the track. So we were there when it was being laid out, graded and all the rest. My first race there was in 1968 behind the wheel of a DKW. And it was a race that set the rest of my career in motion.”
Van der Merwe later scored a Kyalami drive that would put him in the limelight. The 1982 Wynns 1 000km was a big deal, an international sports car endurance race filled with all the big names and some of the quickest cars known to man. Although his name wasn’t on the original entry list, SuperVan nabbed a last-minute drive in a Porsche 935 after his sponsor, Kreepy Krauly, struck a deal with the car’s owner, Giampiero Moretti. They finished fifth overall.
“That race started my international sports car career. From there I won Daytona and from Daytona I went on to Europe. So for me it marked a major turning point.”
The years that followed may have been good for Van der Merwe but they were tough on the track, which had become such an intrinsic part of South African life. After Formula One disappeared due to sanctions, Kyalami took a financial knock and sank into a state of disrepair.
Development of the area around the circuit intensified, with business and housing estates creeping ever closer. Half of the track, including the main straight, was sold off to settle outstanding debt. An office park took its place, while the remains of the original circuit were appropriated into an all-new layout. One that had, by 1992, morphed into the track we all know today.
The new circuit hosted two Grands Prix in the early 1990s, but Scheckter has never been a fan.
“From my point of view the old Kyalami was a fabulous place,” he says. “I wasn’t part of them destroying it. I would have liked to have seen them build what they’ve got today around the original circuit.”
Van der Merwe is a tad more complimentary. “It’s still a nice track from a driver’s point of view. But it doesn’t have the big balls effect like it had before. Down the old main straight, in that Porsche 935, I was doing 320km/h. If there’s any money around, I think Toby should extend the pit straight so it can become a world championship track again.”
“Toby” is Toby Venter, the CEO of Porsche South Africa. He’s a shrewd businessman and dyed-inthe-wool lover of motorsport. Back in the day, he used to race against SuperVan and company in the Porsche Turbo Cup Challenge.
Three weeks ago he purchased Kyalami for a cool R205-million on auction. This is sensational news because Venter has always viewed the circuit as a national treasure: a piece of South African history that he plans to keep open for racers and racing fans alike.
“Let’s hope Toby can get it right,” Van der Merwe says. “With him being in charge now, things should change for the better — by miles. For the first time in many, many years we’ve got a motorsports guy in charge of the track. So I’m very happy with what has happened.” LS