Bring Back The Trans Am Circuit
One summer day in the early 1970s, my brother and I meandered through the pits at Donnybrook Speedway in Brainerd, Minn. before one of the races on the Trans-American (Trans Am) Championship Circuit. While taking in the rows of cars and crews, I spotted a young guy with dark hair and a beard sitting in a director's chair, flanked by two mechanics—one balding guy who resembled driver A.J. Foyt and the other showing off his tanned torso to racetrack groupies.
With Nikkormat in hand, I looked like a photographer rather than a student, and the dark-haired guy wearing a Nomex (flame-resistant) driver's suit, kerchief and Sperry Top Siders (at that time racing was not as technically sophisticated) walked up and offered me a pose and a soda. I accepted, and we struck up a conversation.
The driver, who owned his own car, had a famous last name and lived in Litchfield, Connecticut, a town peppered with classic Jaguar C- and D-Types and even a Rolls-Royce Touring Car with wicker seats and rattan gun mounts for elephant hunting in Africa. He told me that his Ford Mustang's engine (306 cu. in.) had blown and the car would be loaded up on its way back to the shop in Waterbury, Connecticut.
I told the driver, Paul, that I had a photo assignment for a local racing magazine and mentioned how I had helped my brother, who accompanied me to the race, drop a 383-cu. in. engine in his red Dodge Dart. Paul laughed and asked my brother and me to join him at the next Trans Am race in Elkhardt Lake, Wisconsin. He offered us pit passes. We accepted.
The Trans-Am Series, created in 1966 by the Sports Car Club of America, was for stock cars—where mainly factory teams competed. But, there were a few independent racers like Paul, bleeding money to buy a car, who lured friends to help as mechanics and crew. The reason my new friend Paul was in the series was because he had raced at Lime Rock in his home state of Connecticut, and wanted to try out with the Big Boys. Trans Am was open to production models—muscle cars. The series was famous enough that a Pontiac Model—the Trans Am—was named for it.
Attending and participating in Trans Am races allowed me to meet and observe famous drivers and team leaders like Roger Penske. The movers in the Series were the Chevy Camaros and AMC Javelins driven by Mark Donahue, and the Bud Moore Boss 302 Mustangs—driven by Parnelli Jones and George Follmer. And there was my personal favorite—because I owned one—the Plymouth 'Cuda team with Dan Gurney and Swede Savage.
That summer, my love of fast cars gave me a chance to attend three major races and work with Paul and his buddies on his white Mustang. I got to watch No. 45 qualify and see the car finish. Attending that race in Brainerd gave me an opportunity to crew at Elkhardt Lake. I recall removing my sandals so I could move fast to refuel Paul's Mustang as he scooted in to the pit. I managed to jab the nozzle of the white gas can into the tank and fill before two other factory entries finished. I also remember the voice over the P.A. system asking for the barefoot blond to get off the asphalt. Rules were less rigid in those days and I wasn't thrown out.
Although the original Trans Am series hasn't been around for several decades, many of those Mustangs, Camaros, Cudas, Javelins and Challengers have been preserved or restored and are still racing in vintage events today. However, I wonder—since Ford's stylish retro Mustang has been a hit and the new Camaro and Challenger are returning—perhaps there could be a new Trans Am Series. No plans have been announced, but there's always a chance. It's a great marketing opportunity for the domestic automakers. And I'll be one of the first spectators.
