Suixtil au Goodwood Festival of Speed 2009
If petrol-heads were an official
religion (it certainly has all the appearances of one - fatwa
coming?- when judging from the devotion in the car owners and the
regularity and intensity with which we all mass up to pray at our
grand masses, the respect we pay to our lesser vicars and reverence
we reserve for our cardinals) then the Festival of Speed ("FoS")
would without a doubt be Christmas - in early July! We all got the
surprises we were looking for and a few of us had even peeked in
advance in the boxes to make sure they were getting the toys they
were looking for. The theme of the year (why is there a need for a
theme when the point of the FoS seem clearly made in its very name,
while said theme does not appear to influence the structure of the
show is a separate question that will not get answered here today)
was "True grit -epic feasts of endurance" appears to have captured
several of the salient traits of Suixtil and we
were therefore compelled to actively participate and so we did!
Certainly the FoS is not, as we
heard several times, the classic party that the Revival represents,
but it is hard not to commune in the infectious fervor demonstrated
by the faithfuls who come in greater numbers every year. On the
other hand it is an unbridled cornucopia of everything motoring.
Where else but in the beautiful estate of Lord and Lady March could
such a comprehensive party be held for 150 or more thousand people
to stroll around with abandon, picnic and gape at every extravagant
piece of machinery, whether racing or not, as man can have ever
dreamt. And God, are some of these machines beautiful, for age,
condition or sheer form! Leonardo would have been suitably
impressed at how far mankind has taken to the pursuit of speed and
form. The best of them were gathered like steeds in a separate
enclosure as part of the onsite Concours d'Elegance, even though we
all know their breeding abilities to be nonexistent, too bad
though, come to think of what they could come up with. At the other
extreme, the BloodHound, chasing a land speed record of 1,000 per
hour, and just after that a gathering of F1 racing cars that track
back through the history of the sport and where one can witness the
evolution of the sport and where, contrarily to general fashion,
the skirts only get longer to always come nearer to the ground and
reduce and direct the air flow underneath the car. Around these
beauties of all ages are teams of mechanics performing a slow and
controlled dance. Our friends at Hall and Hall ever cooler with 8
cars (can a 4 letter word really reflect what we are talking about
when it truly amounts to a précis of unmatched historic importance
for the sport?) under their watchful care. Each man is
completely in control of the moments and yet, you can feel, proud
beyond words of the association and history entrusted to them,
committed to letting the beast only in the best of light for this
special moment for which they have all been gathering speed under
their silent hood. Overhead the RAF stroke the skies in antics and
acrobatics probably aimed at striking the envy of the earth-bound
bolides of all ages.
The "race" element of the Festival
is more than a sideshow though and it is certainly stunning to
watch: a 1.2 Mile hill climb full of bends and treachery
(especially for the older elements of the species that were not
conceived off with the modern trimmings and equipped with
technologies to afford a comfortable), especially as their pilots
all want to push the outside of the mechanical envelope for both
sportsmanship and good showmanship. Billows of burnt rubber
accompanied with the unmistakable perfume of oil float in the air
during the days as each, in turns, rush up to the (still unbroken
after 10 years) record of speed. The crowds scream along with the
engine both in delight.
This year was probably even more
exciting as the weather blessed the event with a sun that was only
briefly hidden by showers so short they barely cooled of the
tempers, certainly not the engines.
The Suixtil team
in all this: so many facets it makes it hard to sum-up on
paper:
- Colors: Did you see us? Did you see us? Thanks
to the immensely kind consideration of Rob Hall, our colors were
racing again under his expert hand at the Festival of Speed, in a
Pantheon of greats on a great itself: Frank Williams' first F1,
made by a legendary constructor and fanatic of Argentine origins
(the stripe racing down the middle of the car prominently and
proudly confirming the fact): the 1970 DeTomaso was exhibiting our
logo on both its front flaps and the side of its back spoiler. It
made us burst with pride while also instilling us with a new found
dose of respect for the whole sport and the consideration of the
great and well respected brands of this industry that will lift up
smaller players like us without a second thought, just happy to
aid. Having met Rob's father and mother -where else but on the
paddock, it is easy to understand where the gentleman-ness comes
from - once again Rob, thank you, so "at life speed" from you!
- Participating at the Festival of Speed: is
heaven (to pursue the initial religious analogy) but holding a
stand there relegates you to purgatory as you can hear the music
but barely see the orchestra. Being here after we re-launched the
brand a mere 8 months ago is bliss though and infuse us with a
sense of accomplishment that gets comforted when we hear the
emotions pouring out of older members of the public who come to
share their recollection of events and memories with us, evoke
their heroes (most of the time also ours, considering how far
reaching Suixtil was during its heyday) or
favorite machines (again - so much we share…). Time seem to stop
and in fact, in our changing room it even seems to go back as if by
donning on our racing uniforms they shed the years that have passed
and went back to the root of our shared history.
- Legends: again, where else could we have
thought to be blessed with the visit of such great as the legendary
Sir Stirling Moss. Again, with a twinkle in his eye, fresh as ever
and between two rushes up the hill the great man gives us in 10
minutes a lesson in our own history that is probably worth of our
bookworm research. Why were the Suixtil gear so
omnipresent during the 50s and 60s do we ask him? "Because they
were the best in world" does he answer! Certainly a result of
having been designed taking into account all the request of El
Chueco himself, a high, elasticized waistband for comfort and to
avoid a belt cutting in the belly when driving for long stretches,
ankle cuffs that keep the trousers' fabric from getting caught in
the pedals during driving and pockets so deep they could almost
feet the road books of a rally (if we did not already have great
touring bags for that). Sir Stirling Moss then gracefully receives
a gift from us that seem to bring back such a flood of memories we
are all left at a loss for words. By any account a visit we could
not have dreamt of and that, rather than comforting us in a false
sense that we "have arrived" inject us with a greater than ever
sense of urgency about the need to spread the good news:
Suixtil Is Back - at life speed!
- Celebrities: we welcome a few celebrities from
yesterday and today, all more pleasant than another, some exchange
views on their races, others on their passion, in all cases they
express their surprise at the magnitude of our undertaking and
welcome us back. Certainly a soothing balm on our tired spirits and
burnt skins.
- Paddock: the Suixtil team was
genially hosted in a castle that Sussex only can engender and
driving back there after 20 hours days was certainly a soothing
thought. The grounds were beautiful and many excited conversations
took place under a watchful full moon while we rested our tired
bones and ears. Better it could not have been, save for the
perfidious passing of Petsworth on the way, that many a time took
us on a long and winding road where we raced rabbits and chased
magpies laughing at our lost caravan. Thank you again to the Lord
and Lady of the Manor who so gracefully hosted us and left their
mansion in our care, likely deserting us to ensure we did not feel
remorse at waking them up when we left or finally made our way back
to what we could only hope to some day call a home.
- Friends: we have met many we knew well, few we
knew already and many more we did not yet know we had, but with
whom we felt such kinship it would be hard not to call them that,
even after a 10 minutes conversation. We left amazed to find out
after such an event that there is an unreported pandemic of
worrying proportion: countless numbers of people, throngs of young
and old alike are going around looking normal but with their blood
tainted, a worryingly high level of octane coursing through their
veins. Come to think of it, under such a scorching sun it has to be
a miracle we did not get to witness any instant combustion! The
Suixtil team well aware of its affliction was
racing back at regular intervals to take refuge in the shade, but
how many did we see not taking such precautions… Again, it had to
be a miracle.
A conclusion, if one is possible as
it is near impossible to close a subject on which so much more
could be told, and as I nurse blisters the size of 2 pound coins
borne from walking these hallowed (for us worshippers at the
automotive altar) grounds: go to Goodwood! Go to the Revival (we
might even be there, at least our Suixtil gear
will be, look for the stand of Andrew McDowall and if you need kit
at any point to make sure your appearance matches your commitment
and state of mind, then go visit the store in Chichester, where our
whole Heritage line can be found along with unmatched service), Go
to the Festival of Speed, Just Go as the experience is
transformational. You will drive away with a head full of roar, a
heavier foot (watch out for unexpected and undesirable side
effects) and new dreams to nurture. Just Go - at life speed!
Source: www.suixtil.com
