To set the scene:
Way back when I was a very young lad, I got bitten by the car bug. This was just after I had noticed airplanes flying overhead and I was immensely fascinated. However, I figured owning one of these amazing aerial machines would forever be out of my reach, so I thought: “how about a car?” Now, possessing one of these land-based vehicles is something I could possibly swing someday.
I must have been around 10 or 11 years old when my parents broke up and my father semi-moved out. He was back and forth and in and out for the next few years, but not around consistently. As a semi-single parent, my mom did what she could, but after a bit it became apparent, she wasn’t in that great a state of health herself, and that’s when my big brother stepped in. I suppose he figured I needed a male role model or something, but it was a fortunate thing for me. You see, at that time, my big bro was one of those cool guys people looked up to. Oh, and he always had the coolest cars. That really made my car bite itchy! He was in his mid-to-late teens but always seemed much older and wiser to me, but looking back, I don’t think he really was all that brilliant, but I was certainly quite a distance behind!
With him, I attended my first auto race, the Player’s 200 at the then almost-new Mosport Park racing circuit in the early 1960’s. We travelled to the track in his turquoise-blue 1961 Austin 850 Mini-Minor Deluxe. It was a little gem of a car that he’d bought used. It had the small 850cc engine but also had the trim and trappings of the later, pricier and faster Cooper models. It had a two-tone paintjob sporting an Olde-English White roof and two-tone upholstery in blue and grey, along with some additional chrome trim bits, it was truly delightful. Hilariously slow, but delightful. At the track, I remember the thunderous roar of the early Lolas, McLarens and other V8-engined sports racers that would eventually morph into the CanAm monsters of a few years later, but in 1963/64 they were the latest thing in the U.S. Road Racing Championship or USRRC. One thing indelibly etched in my memory was a fatal accident at that first race. Although shocking and upsetting at the time, it didn’t dull my fascination with motorsports.
Through the next few years, my brother was constantly “trading up” in his vehicle acquisitions. He purchased a brand new 1275 Mini Cooper S in 1965-66. It was perhaps, one of the earliest ones around. The very first thing he did upon taking delivery was to take it into a tuning shop in Toronto’s east end and have the car upgraded and modified to fast rally specifications. He ran it in several regional and local rallies and actually achieved some success. We did several more trips to Mosport and Harewood Acres in that car.
Perhaps it was boredom, or just the wish to change up again that led him to trading in the “S” for a slightly used 1965 British Racing Green Lotus Elan S2. Now, that car was quick and handled better than anything we were aware of. After quick turn with it, a couple of track days and some visits to the local drag strip to shame the local straight-line boys, he traded up once again and got a 1968(?) BRG Lotus Elan SE. This Elan was even quicker than the SE and with it, my brother actually made a few bucks at that drag strip!
I had several more driving lessons in that car, and my brother had also bought another Mini Cooper around that time. I got to drive it as well. As a matter of fact, my brother, along with a pal of his had embarked on a bit of a mission to buy and flip Mini’s. I guess because they were small and didn’t take up a lot of space, they at one point had about twenty of the things in a lock-up. It was far from a formal dealership type of arrangement, but I assume some reasonable money was made as the “pal” financed some racing through the deal and my brother ended up with yet another Lotus. This time, it was a bright yellow 1966 Super Seven.
My brother’s romantic endeavours had caught up with him around this time, and he ended up married to someone whom I thought was a very nice girl. Alas, for whatever reason, it didn’t work out and ended in his first divorce. Both had entered the partnership with what they had, and the relationship was dissolved without either giving up much of anything. He still had his cars—she got back her sanity.
The Mini Cooper was sold and the BRG Elan was also moved along. He had, however locally found a white S2 Elan that was in decent shape so that was added to his collection.
I received more driving lessons in that car and, also got some advanced driving techniques in both it and the Super Seven.
Now that I was well versed in performance driving and turning 16, it was time for me to get my own car. In April 1970 I bought a scruffy, used 1965 MGB. This is the car I still own, but that’s another story.
I’ll now get to the meaty part of the tale of the two Lotus’s’s’s, however, that will be in our next installment!
Cheers!
Doug S.
(All other photos courtesy of Wikipedia.)