Aysedasi's Le Mans

Le Mans 1991 - Ayse's Story

Page 1 - Le Mans #6

Initially in the run up to Le Mans 2018 I decided it would be a good time to update my 1991 story as I had done for the earlier years.  That task was only part-completed then so here I am, on my new website, completing the process in May 2020! The story to the update is a familiar one.  When I started my website I only had a tiny amount of web space from BT (astonishingly, 5Mb, if I recall correctly!), so I could only put up a page or two at a time, each with only 4-5 photographs and then I had to take a page down to put another one up.  As a result, most of the photographs taken have never seen the light of day, other than in my albums at home.  In 2017 I acquired a second hand scanner, which had the facility to scan negatives.  So I thought it would be a good time to try it out.  Unfortunately, whilst it turned out to be successful most of the time, for the few night shots the scanner was unable to cope, and cropped the images haphazardly.  So those I had to scan from the photographs.  Another set back was finding a whole sheet of negative strips missing.  (I'm sure they are there in the storage book I bought many years ago, but I couldn't find them).  So the relevant photographs again had to be scanned from the prints.  Sadly the quality leaves a fair bit to be desired by present-day standards, but as a record of the trip, I'm quite pleased with it.  The story below is the full version that I wrote at the time but didn't use for the website.  Here then is the revised story of the Tourists' trip to Le Mans in 1991, 29 years ago.....    

 As many of you will already have appreciated, much was happening by 1991 in the corridors of power at the FISA.  Sports car racing, which had become the governing body's neglected child (in comparison to F1's spoiled brat), was a child in grave danger of expiring through sheer neglect.  Whilst the greatest ramifications of the FISA's new sports car policy were yet to be felt by the major teams, all was far from rosy on the sports car front.  And yet, there seemed to be so much to look forward to.  Peugeot were there already, with their new streamlined 3.5 litre normally aspirated car, and both Jaguar and Mercedes had gone to the effort of producing their own new designs for the new engine formula.  But at what cost?  The new cars were generally described as F1 machinery, clothed in sleek sports bodywork.  Where was the money for both racing and (perhaps more importantly), development, going to come from? The ACO continued to run their "blue riband" race on a circuit with chicanes on the Mulsanne Straight.  Few drivers were heard to applaud their invention in 1990, indeed perhaps the best quote came from James Weaver, who, after suffering a puncture which ultimately caused the turbo to be ripped from the engine of his RLR Porsche, described them as those "poxy chicanes", and thought that the circuit was more dangerous than when the Mulsanne Straight really was straight! Still, it was early days.  We would not have a full grid of the 3.5 litre, normally aspirated cars.  In fact, Le Mans 1991 would see the smallest grid for many years, with only thirty-eight cars taking the start (when the ACO would normally look for a field of fifty cars on their huge circuit).  What was most disappointing perhaps (and did not augur well for the future), was that the 3.5 litre offerings from both Jaguar and Mercedes did not take the start.  The Jaguar XJR14 was practiced by Andy Wallace (TWR fearful of a regulation which suggested that if Derek Warwick practised it, he would be bound to race that car), but would not be started, even though, as a result of the regulations, he could have started the car from pole position.  The new Mercedes was brought to La Sarthe, but completed only two token laps in practice, the fastest of which was nearly two and a half minutes off the eventual pole time.  A very serious effort that by Mercedes!  The ACO had decreed that, in order to be seen to be putting it's full weight behind the new formula, the first ten places on the grid would be reserved for 3.5 litre cars.  What a surprise that the team most favoured by this decision were Peugeot Talbot Sport!  Actually, the turbo Mercedes posted the quickest time of all, but would start on the sixth row, behind the Peugeots and a motley selection of Spices.  

Never mind this, I'm getting ahead of myself!  What of the "team" for 1991?  The main body of the team remained as it had done for the previous four years.  Myself, Ian, Martin and Alan.  Back with us in 1991 was Richard Smith, who had first been with us in 1988.  In addition to the five of us, there were two new recruits.  The first of these was Mike.  I regret to say that I have forgotten Mike's surname, and all that I really remember about him was that he worked abroad, somewhere in Scandinavia, I believe, and came back home periodically.  This was his first visit to Le Mans.  The other newcomer was Robert Gordon, Ian's son.  Thus far, Ian had not taken either of his two boys to Le Mans, not in recent years, anyway.  If the story is correct, however, Ian was given something of an ultimatum by Carol, his wife, that either he took one of them with him, or he didn't go at all!  Robert was therefore the lucky beneficiary.  (I think Ian was worried that to have his son with him would "cramp" our style, but nothing would be further from the truth.  It was a pleasure to have Robert with us.  Knowledgeable and interested, he kept a note-book with him at all times on the journey and at the circuit itself, noting down details of all the exotic machinery that he saw). 

We all met at Ian's home, as usual, and, due to lack of space, I left my car of the day (a very staid Ford Orion) at the front of Richard's house.  (Richard lived virtually opposite Ian).  From there it was on to Portsmouth and the ferry to Caen.  With seven to transport, and no Robert Peel, we needed a second driver and car.  Martin provided his BMW (a 525i, if I recollect correctly), and I travelled with him, with Alan and Mike.  Robert and Richard accompanied Ian in his 535i, which was now a veteran of three Le Mans trips. This is the standard boring bit - I have very little to report of the journey over to Caen, save that on the ferry, I met Gareth Cowling, the Hampshire Stipendiary Magistrate, who also made this trip on an annual basis.  Whilst his friends went to the race however, he alas sought his entertainment elsewhere (horse racing, I believe!).  We arrived in Caen in the pouring rain, and those in Martin's car ended up waiting an age for Ian's car to be off-loaded from the ferry.  We then set off for our Friday night stop, which would, once again, be Le Relais du Bois Leger near St. Symphorien des Monts.  On route however, we all stopped off at Domfront (a familar location for those who travelled in 1988), to pick up some flowers for Madame at the cafe, and M. Le Bigot's wife. 

As always, an excellent meal was provided by Monsieur at Le Rotisserie Normande. He seemed very keen to try and sell the restaurant to us, or to enlist our assistance in selling it to some unsuspecting Brit.  (Much French property was, at this time, being snapped up at very low prices by British people).  The night wore on, with many courses and much wine, to be followed by the inevitable calvados!  I suspect that a slightly earlier finish was called to the proceedings than had been the case in the past - I think that Robert was on his last legs.  (His stamina throughout was quite astounding!). The morning came around swiftly, and I was, as usual, the first to rise.  The sun was trying very hard to shine for us, but there were nevertheless some worrying black clouds in the sky.  Eventually, the others joined me for breakfast of croissants, jam and plenty of café au lait in the roadside café, mingling with the French lorry drivers, who had taken the chance for a short break from the open road.  Out in the car park, Martin spent some minutes trying to adjust his seat to his liking.  He had been struggling to do so all the way from Caen.    Martin was also a little worried by a slight fluid loss from his BMW's engine.  Everyone assured him, however, that the loss was so minimal that we would be safe to continue the journey. 

We therefore set off for the haul to Le Mans itself, stopping off at another regular haunt, the Hotel de Paris at Cilez.  Horse steaks were always the order of the day here, however I had made a decision to err on the safe side once again.  Since my problems of 1987, I had always tried not to go over the top during the early part of the Le Mans week-end, and, frankly, I was still bloated from M. Le Bigot's superb meal, the night before.  To everyone’s surprise, I therefore passed on the Saturday lunchtime meal, and instead went for a wander around the town, returning twenty minutes or so later, to join the rest for coffee. 

After a few "snaps" for posterity in the railway station car park, it was off on the final leg of the journey to the circuit.  The weather by this time was looking rather ominous, although the news was not wholly bad.  It was actually quite sunny and warm, but we were dogged all the way by dark, brooding storm clouds, and I wasn't taking bets on the likelihood of some rain during the week-end!