Duel on the Edge

"You prepare yourself and your car in order to drive at the absolute limit, to be on the edge. The whole effort is done so that you can reach the point where it becomes dangerous."

--Niki Lauda

"The fear I have is the knowledge that I can be killed any time in a racing car. Because I enormously enjoy life, it makes me very sad that I have to live under that cloud all the time. "

--James Hunt

The two men had chased each other --hare and hound in the fragile cockpits of Grand Prix racing cars--across four continents, ten months, 15 highspeed races. One of them, Niki Lauda, the reigning champion of Formula I, had nearly given his life to the quest in a flaming crash at Germany's treacherous Nuerburgring course. The other, James Hunt, racing's brash and rising star, had invested his considerable zest in the discipline needed to hone his talents. Only three points separated them--Lauda leading--in the contest for the World Driving Championship when they came to the final race of the season, the Japanese Grand Prix. At the foot of Mount Fuji, the matter was decided, not on the track but in the minds of the two drivers. James Hunt took on the risk of racing through rain into fog-shrouded turns. Niki Lauda could not accept the dangers. Hunt finished the race in third place, scoring four points and claiming the driver's crown. Lauda pulled into the pits after one lap, surrendering his title and, with it, the mystique that drivers never bow to fear.

It was a skidding end to the most dramatic racing duel in recent memory. Lauda is a methodical Austrian whose technical brilliance and unflappable personality had brought stability--and a championship--back to Ferrari after a decade of decline. Hunt is the dashing Englishman who brought the verve of a swashbuckler to staid Team McLaren. Roundhead and Cavalier, a rivalry that seemed fated.

Early in the season, Lauda ticked off victories almost mechanically in South Africa, Brazil, Monaco. But Hunt was closing fast in his McLaren, polishing his driving skills with a newfound concentration. After divorce from Model Suzy Miller (who quickly became Mrs. Richard Burton), Hunt emerged as the only driver seriously to challenge Ferrari's domination. The drivers swapped trips to victory lane while their team managers swapped charges of cheating with wrenches and rule books. Although there was no bad blood between Hunt and Lauda, the rivalry intensified, and the racing world's attention was focused on the two men by the German Grand Prix on Aug. 1.

Nuerburgring is the longest (14.2 miles), the most difficult (172 corners), and by far the most dangerous circuit in all of racing (nine Grand Prix drivers have died there). Uneasiness over safety at the track had been growing each year among drivers. Before the race, they met to decide whether or not to boycott the event. Niki Lauda voted not to race. Said he: "I felt that to risk a human life just to please the organizers of the race is not right. But the vote went against me, and I decided that I would go along with the majority."

On the second lap, a rear wheel fell off Lauda's car and he skidded into a guardrail. His car burst into flames, searing his lungs with intense heat and poisonous flames from the volatile fuel. Unable to trigger the car's fire extinguisher, Lauda lay trapped while three fellow drivers struggled to free him. His face and head were badly burned and disfigured, the oxygen count in his blood fell below the level necessary, in theory at least, to sustain life.

That he survived was remarkable; what followed was more remarkable still. Two weeks after the crash, he left the hospital for his farm near Salzburg. With the help of a physical therapist, he worked himself back into shape. Precisely six weeks after his accident, he entered the Italian Grand Prix at Monza and finished fourth. But first had come a terrifying practice round. Said Lauda: "It was raining, really horrible conditions, and I had to go out to see if I could still do my work. The car was aquaplaning. I was really scared and I stopped. But the next day, it was dry, so I got in the car. It took me 15 laps to be able to start sliding to the guardrail again, but I did it. I was not scared; I could drive again."

The Limit. Lauda and Hunt seesawed through races in Canada and at Watkins Glen, N.Y. Then came Japan and once more the rain. As track attendants tried to whisk water off the course with bamboo brooms, drivers met twice to decide whether or not they would run. The drizzle continued as fog settled on the track; twilight was coming. Finally, a last vote was taken, and the decision to race was made. Hunt, starting in the first row, skidded through the first turn and took the lead. Lauda, one row back, went once around the course in the blinding spray from the leaders' wheels, then retired.

Mario Andretti, the eventual winner in his first Grand Prix victory this year, was critical of Lauda's decision. Said he: "Once the race was on, he should have battled to the finish." Hunt was more understanding: "It was better for me because I was leading. I didn't have the spray problems the others did. I felt very sorry for Niki. It wasn't fair that he should have to race in these conditions. I wanted the race postponed because I didn't think it was safe."

Niki Lauda, who had raced once before when he thought it unsafe and nearly died, would not go to the edge with Hunt this last time. "For me," he said, "it was the limit. For me, there is something more important than the world championship."

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