Easy Does It

To U.S. racing drivers, just being allowed to compete in the Indianapolis 500 is like being tapped for Skull & Bones. The 500 has a special sound (the roar of 250,000 voices), a special smell (burning alcohol from the cars and frying chicken from the picnickers), a special excitement (speeds up to 195 m.p.h.) and a special danger (21 deaths in 55 years). Not to mention the special rewards consisting of the money (total purse: $628,400) and prestige that go to the winner of the world's richest auto race.

But as far as Scotland's Jim Clark, 29, lets on, the Indy 500 is a bit of a bore. Fortnight before the race, while everybody else was practicing furiously, he flew home to inspect the livestock on his 1,200-acre Lowlands farm. When he returned, he allowed as how, "frankly speaking, I'd rather be in Monte Carlo"--where his European comrades were competing the same weekend in the Grand Prix of Monaco.* Still, his boss, Colin Chapman, had signed up for the race, and Clark reckoned he might as well make the most of t. So he did. Squirming into No. 82, a tiny, 1,250-lb. Lotus painted "unlucky" green and powered by a 495-h.p. Ford engine, he tied a white silk scarf around his face and proceeded to put on a display never before seen at Indianapolis. He led for all but ten of the 200 laps, broke some sort of record practically every time he tooled around the 21-mile course, lapped the entire field twice, averaged 150.68 m.p.h. (the old record: 147.35 m.p.h.), and left the Brickyard littered with the carcasses of cars that broke down straining to keep up.

Some Battle, Some War. The experts had all sorts of preconceptions about what last week's 500 was going to be.

A disaster, for one thing: A. J. Foyt, Rodger Ward and Parnelli Jones crashed in practice, and if the three top Indy veterans couldn't control their cars, what could be expected from the eleven green rookies in the race? There was the Great Tire War between Firestone and Goodyear (TIME, May 28), and the knock-down Battle of the Enginemakers between Ford, which entered its first Memorial Day 500 just two years ago, and Offenhauser, which had ruled the Brickyard for 18 straight years.

Rarely have the experts been so wrong. The only thing that remotely resembled a crash was a brief encounter between Bud Tingelstad's Lola-Ford and the wall on No. 3 turn. The yellow caution light shone for only 13 min. during the 31-hr. race-- and 2 min. of that was the fault of a careless official who pulled the switch by mistake. Rookies finished third, fifth, sixth, eighth and ninth. Seven top cars used Firestone tires, and the first four were powered by rear-mounted Ford engines. Offy Boss Louis Meyer then announced that his firm no longer would produce engines for the 500, thus coining a new slogan: "If you can't beat 'em, quit."

"I Saw, I Passed." The race itself was over almost as soon as it started when Clark tramped on his accelerator and darted in front of Foyt on the very first turn. Foyt grabbed back the lead on the second lap, but Clark later explained: "I let him go. I wanted to see how quick he was. I saw, and I passed him back." That was on the third lap, and except for a fleeting interlude after his first pit stop, Clark was in front all the rest of the way.

The pit stops were crucial. To encourage drivers to carry lighter fuel loads, thereby reducing the risk of crash or fire, officials required all cars to stop at least twice. Sloppy work by Lotus mechanics had hurt Clark's chances in 1963 (he finished second to Parnelli Jones), and Designer Colin Chapman was determined not to let this happen again. Carefully calculating Clark's rate of fuel consumption (3 mi. per gal. of alcohol), he scheduled a stop every 162 mi. He redesigned the Lotus' gas tank to speed up the refueling process. Finally, he hired a crew of ringers to handle the hoses: the Wood Brothers (actually four brothers and two friends), who are famed around the U.S. stock-car circuit for their ability to refuel a car and change a set of tires in 21 sec.

Clark's first pit stop--he took on 58 gal. of alcohol--lasted exactly 19.8 sec. "After that," said Jim, "I knew we had it won." Foyt's pit stop cost him 44.3 sec.--and by the halfway point he was 58 sec. behind Clark. Soon after, pressing to close the gap, Foyt stripped his transmission and coasted helplessly back to the pits. Clark's pit crew flashed the word: FOYT OUT! Grinned Jim: "I was glad that A.J. was through, of course. But I could have licked him anyway."

And So to Bed. Only a breakdown could beat the Scotsman now: his nearest competitor, Parnelli Jones, was H min. behind. On the 136th lap, Clark ducked into the pits for the last time waved away a new set of goggles and a glass of water, roared out again in 24.7 sec. His orders were "Take it easy"--and Clark did, throttling back to 150 m.p.h., then 145. At the end, he was 5 mi. ahead.

The only battle was for second place Desperately rocking his car from side to side to slosh the last few pints of fuel into his starving carburetors, Parnelli Jones limped across the line 6 sec. ahead of Italian-born Rookie Mario Andretti--and almost instantly ran completely out of gas. Climbing out, he took off his helmet and began pushing his car the i mi. back to the pits.

Braking to a stop in Victory Lane, Winner Clark found himself confronted by blonde Suzanne Devine, the 500 Festival queen. Ordinarily, winners kiss the queen; coolly Clark shook her hand. He professed to be unimpressed by the extent of his winnings: $140,000 for finishing first, another $28,500 in lap money, a Plymouth automobile, a ring, a diamond-studded pin, $1,000 worth of clothes. "What will you do with it?" Clark was asked. "I don't know. Colin Chapman will decide that."

* And where, in Jim's absence, Britain's Graham Hill won for the third year in a row thus pulling ahead of Clark (13 points to 9) in their battle for the 1965 Grand Prix championship.

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