journalist for, and later editor of Car & Driver magazine, Yates had a fearlessness behind the wheel and in print. Every twist of a key, whether it belonged to a muscle car or typewriter, became an opportunity to expel the virtues of a well-trained driver exercising his or her better judgement against the gathering tide of safety legislation.
Much like LJK Setright, Yates despised speed limits, arguing that as long as one had the brains and the brakes, one should be free to travel at will. When the powers that be decided America should adopt a 55 mph speed limit, Yates was driven to prove its futility, creating a rebellious event that is still talked about today, over fifty years later.
The concept was refreshing in its simplicity, yet complex in its morality. Head West out of New York and don’t lift your right foot until you reach the Californian Surf of the Pacific Ocean, 2,863 miles away. He named the escapade the Cannonball Baker Shining Sea to Shining Sea Memorial Classic - better known as the Cannonball Run.
Even the most epicurean of car collectors will secretly admit to being a fan of the movies. For the first time car folk could unite in front of the silver screen or television and indulge in the wealth of cars being paraded. There had certainly been car-centric movies before such as Bullit, The Italian Job, Gone in Sixty Seconds and Vanishing Point, but most revolved around a single car or set piece. The Cannonball Run was like going from Chris Godfrey resting his foot on a back bumper once a week to suddenly having access to the entire motoring section of YouTube - the good, the bad and the ugly. If anything, it felt like a Spaghetti Western with four-wheeled steeds. And do you know what the craziest thing is? Most of it was true, and Brock was the real-life Captain Chaos.
The cars were authentic too. Where the Italian Job had a Miura, Cannonball had a Countach with twelve exhausts. The opening scene in which a tightly clad bombshell hops out of the Countach, scissor door phallically protruding into the sky as she sprays a giant X over the 55 mph speed limit sign must have seared itself onto the psyche of every hormonal teenager in the western hemisphere. It ticked every rebel/outlaw box going. You ceased to be a viewer, it became you in the driver's seat of the Lamborghini, utterly toying with the pursuing police officer in the loudest, fastest and most obnoxious car in the world before giving the V12 its head and leaving the officer for dust.
journalist for, and later editor of Car & Driver magazine, Yates had a fearlessness behind the wheel and in print. Every twist of a key, whether it belonged to a muscle car or typewriter, became an opportunity to expel the virtues of a well-trained driver exercising his or her better judgement against the gathering tide of safety legislation.
Much like LJK Setright, Yates despised speed limits, arguing that as long as one had the brains and the brakes, one should be free to travel at will. When the powers that be decided America should adopt a 55 mph speed limit, Yates was driven to prove its futility, creating a rebellious event that is still talked about today, over fifty years later.
The concept was refreshing in its simplicity, yet complex in its morality. Head West out of New York and don’t lift your right foot until you reach the Californian Surf of the Pacific Ocean, 2,863 miles away. He named the escapade the Cannonball Baker Shining Sea to Shining Sea Memorial Classic - better known as the Cannonball Run.
Even the most epicurean of car collectors will secretly admit to being a fan of the movies. For the first time car folk could unite in front of the silver screen or television and indulge in the wealth of cars being paraded. There had certainly been car-centric movies before such as Bullit, The Italian Job, Gone in Sixty Seconds and Vanishing Point, but most revolved around a single car or set piece. The Cannonball Run was like going from Chris Godfrey resting his foot on a back bumper once a week to suddenly having access to the entire motoring section of YouTube - the good, the bad and the ugly. If anything, it felt like a Spaghetti Western with four-wheeled steeds. And do you know what the craziest thing is? Most of it was true, and Brock was the real-life Captain Chaos.
The cars were authentic too. Where the Italian Job had a Miura, Cannonball had a Countach with twelve exhausts. The opening scene in which a tightly clad bombshell hops out of the Countach, scissor door phallically protruding into the sky as she sprays a giant X over the 55 mph speed limit sign must have seared itself onto the psyche of every hormonal teenager in the western hemisphere. It ticked every rebel/outlaw box going. You ceased to be a viewer, it became you in the driver's seat of the Lamborghini, utterly toying with the pursuing police officer in the loudest, fastest and most obnoxious car in the world before giving the V12 its head and leaving the officer for dust.
A
By Craig Toone
Images as Credited
Brock Yates and the Cannonball Run
Even as a bonafide petrolhead, it’s possible you might not be familiar with the name Brock Yates - but I can guarantee you’ll have been influenced by him. He was the epitome of motoring as an expression of freedom and the greatest way to liberate one’s spirit.
Beforehand the Countach had only existed on the bedroom wall and in the imagination. You could pour over the spec sheet for hours, but nothing could give you the primal satisfaction of hearing that V12 in full flight. And it only got better, because the supporting cast included a Ferrari 308 GTS, an Aston Martin DB5, a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow plus the staple Muscle cars. Subaru got in on the act too and at one point, there’s even a VW dune buggy.
It’s somewhat ironic - the Countach starring in the opening credits was actually the vehicle that killed the entire event. When you next watch the film, note the ridiculous antennae protruding from the car - a must for scanning police frequencies and earning the trust of the truckers, who could make or break your attempt with their support (or lack of). In 1980, Brock knew the fastest car in the world at the time wouldn’t have a chance to win - it didn’t have the fuel capacity - but the risks its driver would take to make up the lost ground weren’t worth thinking about. Each entry into the Cannonball had to be personally vetted by Brock, to ensure they met his high driving standards. The Countach driver did not.
The real Cannonball was somewhat different from the slapstick affair portrayed in the movie. It’s true there was a carnival atmosphere, and there was fancy dress, but only in the name of evading the long arm of the law. Yates named the race in honour of Erwin G. "Cannon Ball" Baker, a legendary racer and daredevil of the '20s and '30s. In 1933, driving alone, Baker pushed a supercharged Graham from New York to Los Angeles in 53 hours and 30 minutes. Yates called it "the pinnacle of transcontinental driving."
Beforehand the Countach had only existed on the bedroom wall and in the imagination. You could pour over the spec sheet for hours, but nothing could give you the primal satisfaction of hearing that V12 in full flight. And it only got better, because the supporting cast included a Ferrari 308 GTS, an Aston Martin DB5, a Rolls Royce Silver Shadow plus the staple Muscle cars. Subaru got in on the act too and at one point, there’s even a VW dune buggy.
It’s somewhat ironic - the Countach starring in the opening credits was actually the vehicle that killed the entire event. When you next watch the film, note the ridiculous antennae protruding from the car - a must for scanning police frequencies and earning the trust of the truckers, who could make or break your attempt with their support (or lack of). In 1980, Brock knew the fastest car in the world at the time wouldn’t have a chance to win - it didn’t have the fuel capacity - but the risks its driver would take to make up the lost ground weren’t worth thinking about. Each entry into the Cannonball had to be personally vetted by Brock, to ensure they met his high driving standards. The Countach driver did not.
The real Cannonball was somewhat different from the slapstick affair portrayed in the movie. It’s true there was a carnival atmosphere, and there was fancy dress, but only in the name of evading the long arm of the law. Yates named the race in honour of Erwin G. "Cannon Ball" Baker, a legendary racer and daredevil of the '20s and '30s. In 1933, driving alone, Baker pushed a supercharged Graham from New York to Los Angeles in 53 hours and 30 minutes. Yates called it "the pinnacle of transcontinental driving."
"At no point did we exceed 175 mph"
Dan Gurney - Yates’ Cannonball co-driver and winner of the 1967 24hrs of Le Mans, and ex-Formula One racer
The first run was completed by Yates, Steve Smith, Jim Williams and Yates' son (Brock Jnr) in ‘Moon Trash II’ - a van. Yates had sent out some discreet invitations, but nobody joined him at the Red Ball Garage, Car & Driver’s unofficial New York headquarters and designated starting point. The team crossed the country in 40 hrs and 51 minutes.
Word got out after Yates published the adventure in Car & Driver, and twelve months later eight teams entered. Brock called on some serious firepower to stay ahead of the pack, ditching the van for a Ferrari Daytona and selecting Dan Gurney, US Formula One ace, as his teammate. To quote Brock himself, there was only one rule -
“All competitors will drive any vehicle of their choosing, over any route, at any speed they judge practical, between the starting point and destination. The competitor finishing with the lowest elapsed time is the winner.”
There was no prize money, although there was a ramshackle trophy awarded.
The lack of restraints made for some fascinating tactical conundrums - brains would be just as important as balls. The choice of car, its modifications, navigational decisions and cruising speeds would prove just as decisive as the driver behind the wheel. Satellite navigation didn’t exist back then, and the road network was still rapidly expanding with new interstate highways being laid.
Yates and Gurney won the inaugural race proper, reaching the finishing line 35 hrs and 54 minutes after departing Manhattan. Five of the competitors recorded an elapsed time within two hours of the Ferrari. The minivans with enlarged fuel tanks actually managed to match the 80 mph average speed recorded by the Daytona. The key to victory quickly became apparent - don’t get caught speeding. Being detained by the Police would hold you up far more than any pit stop for fuel, meaning each year the schemes became ever more creative and outlandish in order to fool the authorities.