The most exciting car race in history

The Legend of Mille Miglia still lives on in memories of Italians around the world

Tazio Nuvolari had just won the Tigullio race with two of his feats: after his car had flipped over he had managed to flip it back and restart it all by himself, and when he crossed the finish line the spectators saw that he had been steering it by using a wrench, since the steering wheel had broken in the crash.
He was, therefore, considered the most favourite pilot; but he did not win the first of the Mille Miglia ("one thousand miles") races. In that year, 1927, "the most exciting car race in history" was won by Mannoja and Morandi. Nuvolari, racing with Capelli, only finished in tenth place. A few years later, however, he would more than compensate.
The fact that Mille Miglia was to be a benchmark of pilot recklessness became apparent as soon as the race was launched. It did not take place on a closed racetrack but on the open roads. If one considers that two thirds of those roads were dirt roads, if not outright country paths, and that car technology consisted more or less in putting an engine on four wheels, one understands that pilots had to be inventive as well as reckless. Those qualities propelled that race into the history and legend of world car racing.
The Mille Miglia was born at a point in time when car makers had mostly abandoned the races and turned to mass production, and when the Le Mans racing course was strangling all other European competitions. "We must come up with something that will attract the attention of the manufacturers for its originality and technical appeal," Aymo Maggi said one night in 1925 to Renzo Castagneto, Giovanni Canestrini and Franco Mazzotti. Canestrini was the most famous Italian journalist who wrote about motor races; the other three were pilots: Mazzotti was a plane pilot, 23-year-old Maggi drove cars, and Castagneto rode motorcycles.
They were friends, enthusiastic about those motorized boxes that with increasing frequency broke the silence along Italy's roads. They had been cherishing the idea of launching a long and difficult motor race that would focus on matching men and engines. The formula they had designed was simple: cars of any size, each driven by a couple of pilots on open roads; departure was from Brescia - cradle of Italian cars, motorbikes and aeroplanes - and finish in the same city after touching Rome. The only missing detail was the name: the friends looked at the distance on a map and saw it was about 1,600 kilometres. "Let's call it the One Thousand Mile Race," they decided.
It was an instant success, not just because the greatest pilots of the time entered the race, but also because for two days every year people lined up all along the roads of a country that was slowly moving from agricultural to industrial. The race was one of the symbolic moments of that transformation, and the cheering and interest for cars that it raised became its most effective advertising campaign.
The Fascist regime, of course, jumped on the bandwagon, especially after the first edition saw the victory of a couple of Italian pilots driving an Italian car over a very strong foreign competition. The Mille Miglia race thus became a tile in a propaganda strategy about "Italian efficiency," alongside other deeds such as De Pinedo's and Balbo's flights and Primo Carnera's heavyweight boxing crown.
Even beyond the regime's propaganda, the race was a truly exhausting one, difficult and exciting, and those who completed it (both men and machines) were considered truly exceptional. A few data: in 1927, out of 77 crews only 54 made it to the finish line; in 1930, probably the fiercest competition of them all, 135 crews started and 73 arrived; in 1953 the 481 starting became 286 along the way.
The edition of 1930 saw Tazio Nuvolari grab the trophy by displaying great courage, self-reliance and enterprising spirit. No pills, no shots, no doping then: Campari, who won two editions, drank 12 raw eggs before starting. Nuvolari and Guidotti, the most famous crew, ate huge beef tenderloins at every lunch, and during a race consumed 150 grams of lump sugar each.
Nuvolari (aka "Nivola") won in 1930 driving an Alfa Romeo car, with Giovan Battista Guidotti as his co-pilot; their most dangerous opponents were Achille Varzi and Carlo Canavesi. There was not just rivalry but real enmity between them. Varzi and Canavesi had the lead up to and beyond the midpoint, but when victory seemed sealed, in Bassano del Grappa, Nuvolari and Guidotti reached them, despite starting 10 minutes after them. It was at night, and Varzi saw the oncoming headlights of Nuvolari's car in his rear mirror. Nuvolari did not simply want to win the race, he wanted to make fun of his rivals, so he switched his lights off. Varzi thought that they had gone off the road (it happened frequently) and relaxed somewhat. Nuvolari raced for dozens of kilometres with no headlights on (and no public lighting either) and then, at the gates of Brescia, he turned them on. Varzi had just the time to see them in his mirror but by then Nuvolari passed him at the incredible (for the time) speed of over 100 kph. "Nivola" won, and established a new speed record, since no pilot had raced that fast before him.
In 1933 Nuvolari repeated the feat. That edition brought two novelties: the first entry by a Ferrari car (from 1948 to 1953 it would win six consecutive Mille Miglia races) and the first FIAT Balilla (in 1931 a Topolino had raced, completing the race at the fabulous speed of 78 kph).
In 1936, during the autarchy and with little available gasoline, some cars chose to fuel their engines with charcoal slack, a "replacement fuel" as the Fascists called it. The slow combustion of charcoal was used to generate combustible gas. Six cars were coal-fuelled, but their performance was disastrous: they took more than double the time of gasoline-fuelled cars.
World War II stopped the race, but as soon as the bombs stopped raining new cars began racing the Thousand Miles again. In 1948 Tazio Nuvolari ran his last, desperate race: he insisted on participating even though his lungs had been destroyed by cigarettes and exhaust fumes and his morale had been destroyed by the death of his two children. He was in bad shape and so was his race. When he reached Rome he was leading the race, but then his luck deserted him. First he lost the left fender; after Rome he had to throw away the engine hood and he had to run with an uncovered engine under the heavy rain; in Leghorn his left leaf spring was damaged and his seat came loose. Despite all this, he still had a margin of 29 minutes on his closest pursuer. His race ended in Reggio Emilia: a bolt in his leaf spring broke and one of the brakes stopped working. The car stopped and Nuvolari slumped on the wheel, shaking with tears.
Count Giannino Marzotto, the heir of Italy's biggest textile empire, introduced a touch of snobbishness in 1950: he showed up for the race dressed in a double-breasted blue suit, white shirt and necktie. He thrashed the opposition at the wheel of a Ferrari.
The 1957 race was the most dramatic: due to the explosion of a tyre not far from the finish line, the car driven by De Portogado and Nelson plunged into the crowd along the road and left 12 killed, including both drivers. The country was shocked, and the government decided to cancel the race. Road races were not possible any more. So "the most exciting car race in history" left history and became legend.

Publication Date: 2002-01-20
Story Location: http://tandemnews.com/viewstory.php?storyid=843