Road and Track, October 1st, 2006
"You have a one-lap cushion, the Aston is in the garage, and you are five laps ahead of the next car," crew chief Ray Gongla radioed Jan Magnussen.
After his No. 64 Chevrolet Corvette C6.R had doggedly pursued the leading Aston Martin for more than 14 hours, the Danish driver had just swept into the GT1 class lead at Le Mans.
Silence.
"Do you copy?"
Still no answer.
"Can you hear us?" asked Gongla.
"Yes, I can hear you," the Danish driver replied, "but I just can't believe it!"
Once again, in the final desperate hours of the most famous road race in the world, the Corvette team had come from behind to grind down a seemingly faster opponent. Tired, grimy faces relaxed a bit in the Corvette pits. Eyes met eyes, heads nodded and there was even a smile. But there were no whoops of joy, no “Mission accomplished.” There were almost three hours left, plenty of time for…anything.
“They’re right there with their second car,” warned program manager Doug Fehan. “You know, one small problem, a puncture, flat tire…”
They knew. They’d been there before. It was yet another epic battle in what is currently the fiercest and arguably most interesting rivalry in motor racing, the “war” between Corvette and Aston Martin.
“It’s the most sporting of contests going, actually,” said David Richards, chairman of Prodrive, the company that builds and races the cars for Aston Martin, “because there’s a lovely rapport between the teams.
“You know, it’s England versus the U.S.A. It’s the America’s Cup of motor racing, if you like, the two great brands, Corvette and Aston Martin, challenging each other in some of the greatest sportscar races in the world.”
More accurately, it’s Prodrive vs. Pratt & Miller, which builds the C6.R and fields the Corvette team. Both racing firms are noted for world-class technical prowess, state-of-the-art fabrication and meticulous preparation, but in company culture and style, they are quite different.
Home grown in Michigan and named for company principals Gary Pratt and Jim Miller, Pratt & Miller is best known for designing and fabricating competition cars and running race teams in various American series, most notably for GM, i.e., Corvette, Cadillac CTS-V and Pontiac GTO. With the Corvette program alone, since 2000 Pratt & Miller C5-R and C6.R race cars have amassed five ALMS championships, four class wins at Sebring, an overall victory at the Daytona 24 Hours and, remarkably, counting this year, GT class wins in five of the last six 24 Hours of Le Mans. Their toughest competitor? The Ferrari and now Aston Martin cars of Prodrive.
With a staff of nearly 1000 and interests in England, North America, Germany, Thailand and Australia, Prodrive may be the largest independent company involved in multiple top-level international race and rally series. Like Pratt & Miller, Prodrive designs and fabricates race cars, but it also builds the engines. Founded in 1985 by the ambitious and sometimes controversial Richards, who has been called the Richard Branson of motorsport, Prodrive developed Subaru’s rally program, winning six World Rally Championships. Richards acquired the television and commercial rights to the WRC from Bernie Ecclestone, and for three years was chief executive of the BAR Formula 1 team, presiding over its rise to second in the 2004 Constructors World Championship. He is set to reenter Formula 1 with his own Prodrive team in 2008.
Prodrive fired its opening salvo at Pratt & Miller in September of 2002. At Laguna Seca, in a privately backed Prodrive-built Ferrari 550 Maranello, Tomas Enge out-qualified the Corvettes, then went on to win the Monterey Sports Car Championships, setting the fastest race lap in the process. The war was on.
At the end of the 2003 ALMS season, the Prodrive Ferrari reeled off four straight wins, barely losing the ALMS Manufacturers Championship to Corvette by a single point. At the 24 Hours of Le Mans, Prodrive’s demonstrably faster Ferrari led virtually from start to finish, winning by a 10-lap margin over the first Corvette.
Le Mans is the ultimate battleground, the ultimate test for men and machines. And for teams. The logistics alone are staggering. At Pratt & Miller, 44 crates weighing more than 14,000 lb. are packed to ship to France via England. The two race cars and spares, including six engines, are prepared and shipped by air on three separate flights. Another 15,000 lb. is sent by sea in the Corvette Racing transporter; in total, nearly 25 tons of equipment. Michelin delivers 30 sets of tires for each car. And then there’s the crew of 40 GM managers, mechanics, race engineers, data acquisition, mapping and engine support specialists from Katech, Motorola telemetry and radio personnel, truckies, medical and physio technicians, and, of course, six drivers. Transportation and lodging must be arranged for all. And food.
For Corvette, Jimmy Schmidt of Detroit’s renowned The Rattlesnake Club restaurant takes care of that. He’s been the team nutritionist since 2000. Using selected local meats and vegetables, his staff prepares meals with an eye toward maximizing crew performance and durability, but also to bring a touch of home—like barbecued cheeseburgers and apple pie à la mode for race day. They also make sure that familiar comfort foods (peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, popcorn, snacks) and drinks (coffee, iced tea, soft drinks and Red Bull) are always available for a quick pick-up. And for another touch of home, there’s always the possibility of an impromptu concert from mechanic Mike West.
The day after Open Testing (and later, in a command performance for SPEED TV), perched comfortably on a wheel from the No. 63 Corvette directly in front of the Corvette garage on pit lane, the 6-foot-5 West shattered the morning silence with a rousing electric guitar version of “The Star Spangled Banner” à la Jimi Hendrix. The Aston Martin crew was among those who poured out of their garages and looked on in amazement before breaking into cheers and applause for his feedback-distorted finale.
Good feelings continued the following night at what has become a tradition between the rivals, a team-vs.-team go-kart race. “Superstar” West won for Corvette last year, but this time, it was Aston Martin all the way. And right up at the front with the youngsters was 45-year-old “Woody” Woodward, chief mechanic, and, like Dan Binks, 43, his counterpart for Corvette, arguably, the soul of the Aston Martin team. The fiercely competitive Banks had a spectacular acceident, a series of high-speed barrel rolls after which he comically leapt to his feet, beaming, if bruised, both hands thrust in the air in victory. These two veteran warriors, Woodward and Binks, are the go-to guys—first in when there’s any problem with either car on their team. Both live and breathe motor racing and bring great intensity to their work, but there are differences in personal style. Woodward is a bit more reserved. He has an uncanny ability to remain—or appear—calm and unruffled, even in the midst of a crisis, like the hurried race-day engine change on the No. 007 car after the morning warm-up.
The fire burns a little closer to the surface with Binks. Back home, at Pratt & Miller, he leads pitstop practice every day. At lunchtime. Asked what he thought about the particularly strong field of GT1 cars this year, the two works Aston Martins, two more private Prodrive-built Astons, three Prodrive Ferraris, a Saleen S7R and a Lamborghini Murciélago, Binks just smiled.
“We don’t care how many or who they are, we just want to race ’em. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
As usual, Prodrive dominated qualifying, both Aston Martins, led by Tomas Enge in No. 007, with his record fifth-consecutive class pole at Le Mans, and one of the Prodrive-built Ferraris bettering the times of the Pratt & Miller cars. Doug Fehan shrugged it off, noting that Corvette never has qualified fastest at Le Mans, then managed to lob a PR grenade at his opposite number at Prodrive, George Howard-Chappell, who heads up the Aston Martin program. “If I’m George, I’m doing the same thing that George is doing. I’m going to try to get the fastest lap so I can find as much positive press as I can to help sell cars and to keep Aston Martin interested in coming back. I don’t have to do that. We’re going to be here next year, the year after that. GM is committed to this racing program.”
And that “works” commitment is a critical difference that both David Richards and George Howard-Chappell point to between the teams.
“The rivalry is quite one-sided,” says Howard-Chappell. “It’s a fully funded factory team against a privateer effort. This is a joint venture between Aston Martin and Prodrive, but it’s not Aston Martin funded.”
It’s a fair point. In the absence of factory backing, neither the Prodrive Ferrari nor the current Aston Martin program has ever been sure of an entire season of racing at the beginning of the year. At Sebring, in March, there was no confirmation that Aston Martin would even appear at Le Mans, much less contest the full ALMS season.
In addition to stability in their racing program, the Corvette team’s greatest advantage may be the continuity of its personnel. Aside from Howard-Chappell and one crewman, with whom he worked at Lotus, there are few in Woodward’s Aston crew who’ve been together more than a few years. Not so at Pratt & Miller, and that’s a point of pride with Jim Miller.
“You know how nomadic racing is. You go every other year to a team and you’ll see a whole new bunch of guys. And that was something we thought wasn’t good if you want to do this really well. We’ve tried to put together all the components that make our people want to be here, including our commitment to do it for the long run. We’ve got guys who’ve been with us for 20-plus years.”
Told that two of Aston’s younger crewmembers were astounded to learn that some of the Pratt & Miller crew had worked together longer than they’d been alive, Miller laughed.
“Well, that’s the thing. Our guys don’t have to be told to do things. By now, they just know. There’s a lot of knowledge there and a lot of common experience.”
On race day, the huge crowd witnessed an impromptu show of respect between the two rivals. Heading back from the grid as the cars pulled away, the Aston Martin and Corvette crews spontaneously lined up like hockey teams to shake hands and wish good luck to the other side.
This is what they’d trained for. For the next 24 hours, two of the most professional and closely matched teams in motor racing would do battle. Twelve world-class drivers, each a superbly conditioned athlete, would be tested, pitting their ability to concentrate against the withering assault of time, heat and fatigue. Which side would make the fewest mistakes, stay out of trouble and, above all, keep pushing, no matter what?
“This is it, here we go,” said the Corvette crew, amidst high-fives and hand slaps. Binks plopped down in his seat in front of a bank of monitors and joked, “Okay, wake me when it’s over.”
Both crews applauded as their cars went by on lap one, Pedro Lamy leading in No. 009 with Oliver Gavin in hot pursuit in the No. 64 Corvette, then Darren Turner in the second Aston and Johnny O’Connell in No. 63.
In the Corvette pits, Fehan heaved a sigh, “It’s a relief to be racing after all the B.S.” Three laps later, a crash, one of the private Aston Martins, brought out the safety car. Lamy’s leading No. 009 and all the GT1 cars headed for the pits.
Pratt & Miller made its first tactical move, choosing not to change tires. Saving about 15 seconds, both Corvettes came out in front of the Astons, with Gavin’s No. 64 taking the lead. More bad news for Aston Martin, Turner had to bring the 007 car back in one lap later and was pushed into the garage with a bad oil leak. Woodward and his crew set to work.
"We didn’t see it until he left the first time, but when he stopped, oil was pouring out,” he said later. “There was a late call to come in and he ran over some curbing to do it and damaged the underside of the engine. Made a hole in it. We fixed it, but it cost us six laps.”
Just after an hour into the race, Corvette suffered its first problem. O’Connell spun and slammed the left side of the No. 63 car against a barrier entering the Porsche Curves. He made it back to the pits, where Binks and crew went to work—new wing, left rear wheel arch and a broken tie rod replaced.
“I don’t know what happened,” said a frustrated O’Connell, “Maybe I hit oil or something, but it just went into a slow, lazy spin and I ended up in the barrier.”
It would be 10 agonizing minutes before Max Papis emerged from the pits in No. 63. But at the front of the GT1 field, Gavin and Lamy waged a furious battle. The Pratt & Miller crew was riveted to their monitors, as several times, Lamy’s slightly faster Aston Martin edged up even with the Corvette’s back wheel on the long straights, only to have the door shut at the next corner. Big cheers. “Attaway, Ollie!” Howard-Chappell was less amused and strode over to the Corvette pit signal box to complain about blocking.
At dusk, about 9 p.m. at Le Mans in June, after two driver changes, Olivier Beretta and then Magnussen in the Corvette and Stephane Sarrazin, then Stephane Ortelli in the Aston, the No. 64 car still led 009 by 16 seconds. That gap would change often, but the two lead cars maintained position.
“They’re double-stinting tires and we aren’t,” said Binks, “so we’re giving away 10 seconds there, but we seem to be able to make it up on the track."
Bad luck continued to plague the second Corvette and Aston—and Bink's and Woodward's troops—more contact for the Corvette, with Max Papis up, and a spin for Enge in Aston 007. But the struggle for first between the two lead cars, matching lap for lap, pitstop for pitstop, was trhe highlight of the race—until 15 minutes before midnight when something went wrong in the Pratt & Miller pit.
Gavin brought the leading Corvette in as scheduled for a driver change—Beretta in. But there was a delay. Binks and crew worked furiously on the right front corner. By the time Beretta roared out of the pits, Lamy had swept the 009 Aston into the lead.
“I’m not sure what’s wrong with their car,” said Woodward [it had contact with one of the prototypes], “but they had a slow in-lap and took a long time. We’re back on top for the moment. And normally, the nighttime helps us.”
He was right, the 009 Aston led all through the night and most of the next day, but the Corvette stalked, hour after hour, relentlessly edging closer as the day wore on. In the pits, Binks’s crew kept pushing, cheering every second gained on the track, every second saved in the pits. Those who watched were captivated. The struggle had raged for two days. This was what Le Mans was about, two teams of bloodied but unbowed warriors fighting on instinct. And two magnificent, evenly matched machines.
And then, as always at Le Mans, the unexpected. In the 21st hour, with the end in sight, Ortelli brought the 009 Aston straight into the garage. The clutch had failed. In a final, if vain, last act of heroism, Woodward’s crew fell onto the car, changing out the clutch and putting in a new gear set. When 009 emerged 50 minutes later, the entire Corvette crew was out to applaud them. They’d had to perform a similar miracle to the star-crossed No. 63.
“We know what they went through,” said Binks, “It’s what makes them so good.”
In two hours, it was over. Corvette and Pratt & Miller had won the battle. Fehan got to raise the Stars and Stripes at Le Mans for the fifth time in six years. Mastermind Gary Pratt swept his wife into an embrace. Fists pumped in the air. Tough men hugged. And wept. Two talked quietly, Woody Woodward and Dan Binks.
