Two small stories about Sir Stirling (RIP) you won’t have read anywhere else
This morning I awoke to read an astonishing number of heartfelt tributes to the great driver, not least those on Facebook where I found even more insights and tributes from his admirers from all over the globe.
Many of the stories I had heard or read before and, though familiar, they reminded me why I had always been an avid fan because even in re-telling they never fail to astonish. Moss out-driving the much faster Ferraris to win at Monaco in 1961, his incredible victory at record speeds in the 1955 Mille Miglia and his countless wins in often less than competitive cars. At the height of his powers, Stirling could out-drive anyone, Fangio included, even if he graciously claimed Fangio was the best of them all. In truth, Stirling was obeying team orders to finish second behind Fangio in the Mercedes-Benz GP cars in the mid-fifties and he would faithfully drive in his wheel tracks, clearly well able to stay pace with him. But, enough of that, let me provide a more personal insight into Sir Stirling that are much less well known.
My Dad meets Stirling Moss at Le Mans
My Dad was always a petrolhead, and in 1953, he decided to visit the LeMans 24 hour race in his old pre-war Austin 12, complete with 3 good mates and their camping gear. I wasn’t there, but Dad loved to re-tell the adventure of his memorable road trip, including the travails of another travelling companion driving with them, at the wheel of a three-wheeler Morgan. It’s hard to imagine two more unsuitable cars to tackle the bumpy and long, straight French Route Nationales that were so different from Britain’s then slow and winding roads when motorways were still over a decade away.
Apparently, they arrived at the track a day or two before race day and set up camp at a suitable viewing spot before the crowds had arrived. In those days, the track was still open to the public before the race and the circuit was heavily populated with everyday traffic moving slowly.
Then along came someone who had been travelling at a much greater speed, driving a Jaguar Mk 7 saloon that suddenly braked hard and stopped right next to where Dad and his mates were parked behind the fence. To their surprise, it was Stirling who had been checking out the track and had stopped for a pee behind a tree! Recognising British voices nearby (relatively rare at foreign racetracks in those days), he came over for a quick chat to find out where they’d travelled from.
All of them were car-mad motor racing addicts and Stirling asked them if they’d like to jump into his car for a quick ride around the circuit! Naturally, they didn’t hesitate and Dad told me how the relaxed Stirling pointed out the finer points of the track as he chauffeured them around for a lap, depositing them back where they started and leaving with a friendly wave. Needless to say, Stirling had made some new fans for life and they all cheered his Jaguar C-Type in the race in which he finished in second place.
In sounds almost unimaginable nowadays when spectators are so removed from the action, although in 1952 a wobbly wooden fence, an earth bank and some trees were all that separated them from the action on the track. Even so, it says a great deal about Stirling Moss that he was happy to make time for four blokes he’d never met before.
Dad’s second encounter with Sir Stirling, over 20 years later
By the 1970s, Stirling Moss had retired from full-time racing after his massive accident at Goodwood in 1962 although he still dabbled with motorsport and he decided he would try his hand at the then very active Sporting Trials scene, where especially-designed trials cars would tackle very steep, very slippery muddy hills with the aim of reaching the top of each hill against often almost impossible odds. The winner was the driver (and passenger) that lost the least number of points with each hill being marked from 10 at the bottom and 0 at the top. If you could reach the top without stopping while negotiating trees, rocks and slopes almost too steep to stand upon, you would have ‘cleaned’ the hill and not lost points.
The top Sporting Trials drivers were highly skilled, very competitive and drove highly – developed Trials Cars. My Dad had managed to win the National 750cc class twice with me as a keen, young teenager who ‘bounced’ enthusiastically in the passenger seat, using every ounce of energy to keep traction and lean over, yacht racing style to prevent the car rolling on adverse cambers (the passenger’s role in a trials car is as vital on a racing motorcycle sidecar combination, albeit at much slower speeds!
Stirling Moss takes to the hills
The Sporting Trials drivers were a bit surprised when Stirling turned up with his wife ready for passenger duties and a secondhand Cannon, an almost ubiquitous trials car at the time. Somehow, turning up on a cold, wet farm in the middle of nowhere didn’t seem Stirling’s natural habitat. However, he just set about tackling the hills and giving it his best shot. He mixed in with the regulars and soon realised that he’d have his work cut out to be competitive, despite his otherworldly skills on the race track.
My Dad meanwhile had moved up to the premier class and had built his own trials car, with an unusual leaf spring front suspension (coils were the class norm) and Janspeed-tuned Datsun 1200cc engine. The car was beautifully turned-out, handled the hills well, but struggled against more powerful opposition with lightweight, all-alloy, highly-developed Renault and Hillman Imp-powered machines.
‘Would you be interested in selling me your car,’ said Stirling to my Dad
We did okay and, in truth, were always well ahead of Stirling who was struggling with his old Cannon. Nevertheless, he was always cheerful and ready to chat with us. One Sunday, he was seen to be looking closely at my Dad’s then-new trials car and asked if he could buy it, offered rather more than the car was worth.
Dad was taken aback and very flattered but not ready to sell, so with some reluctance, had to turn down the disappointed Stirling. Naturally, years later, my father loved telling the story of how he turned down Stirling Moss’ offer to buy his car!
Soon after, Stirling decided historic motor racing was more his cup of tea, however, his easy-going charm and humility was something I’ll always remember. Here was a legendary racing driver and national hero who was happy to be just one of the boys at Sporting Trials events. The idea of Lewis Hamilton or Max Verstappen mixing it with the lads on a muddy farm is unthinkable today, but Sir Stirling was from a very different era.
