YESTERDAY, WE SHARED MECHANICAL DETAILS of the Formula Junior Elva and Envoy gleaned from R&T June 1960 and February 1961 respectively. Today in Part 2, we read what the era’s R&T staffers thought of piloting these popular yet contrasting machines.
Feeding the “Tiger.” R&T opened with some philosophy: “It is the near-to-the-heart dream of almost every enthusiast to drive—at least once—a ‘real’ single-seat racing car. Sports cars are great fun and all that, but no matter how exotic or rapid a sports car becomes, it never loses its ties with the mundane transportation-only sedan.”
R&T continued to enthuse, “The monoposto racing car on the other hand, even if it is less powerful than contemporary sports cars, very obviously has one purpose only—to provide a short-duration, wild-sprinting ride for its driver. All one has to do is merely sit in one of these and peer out past the exposed wheels, and if there is a shred of the ‘tiger’ present, it will come to the surface.”
R&T tech editor Gordon H. Jennings prepared for a fast tour of Riverside Raceway in the Elva (once properly helmeted, of course).
The Elva. “The cockpit in this machine,” R&T recounted, “is all business; there are no frills and precious little spare room. Even the relatively slender driver will find that his nether end is a light press-fit into the contoured bucket seat. Also, our test driver found it necessary to remove the bottom cushion from the seat to get down under the air-blast, which otherwise caught under the peak of his driving helmet. However, anyone much under six feet in height probably wouldn’t be bothered by this.”
“The clutch and brake,” R&T noted, “are widely separated, a not too surprising feature in view of the fact that the transmission fits between the driver’s feet, and there is a remote-shift linkage which crosses under the forward edge of the seat to a left-handed shift lever.”
It continues, “This lever stands in the middle of a really impressive slotted gate, which has a lock-out that covers the reverse slot unless the driver lifts it away. The shift pattern is completely non-standard—in fact, it’s upside down. Actually, though, this poses no particular problem, as most of us have no established behavior shift with our left hand and there is nothing to re-learn.”
I’m reminded of pal Innes Ireland telling of a Lotus with an upside-down shift pattern—and, as I recall, his once exiting the Monaco tunnel ahead of his car because of this.
’Round Riverside. “The really exciting part of the test,” R&T said, “came when we completed the straightaway runs and began lashing the Elva around the twisty section of the Riverside Raceway…. A number of passes were made before we got anywhere near the limit.”
“The handling of the car,” R&T recounted, “is quite neutral, with neither over- nor under-steer. When driven with brio the Elva flies through the corners in a sort of wiping motion, with its nose pointed toward the apex. After the car is started into a drift the steering wheel is brought back to almost dead center and, once into the corner, plenty of throttle and minute flicks at the wheel will get one around in a very satisfying manner.”
The Elva’s front suspension, elemental components functioning superbly.
Gee, I know the feeling. It’s what’s known as “oneness with the machine.”
R&T concluded its Elva test with “Here is a superb machine for expert or beginner, it is both stable and fast and, although it will need more than the 65 bhp to be a sure-fire winner, the Elva certainly gives one a flying start in the popular new Formula Junior racing category.”
Then There’s the Envoy’s Mid-engined 80 Hp. R&T described, “Because the Envoy is so small, there is not an over-abundance of room in the cockpit—it being, if anything slightly more tailored than was the Elva.” Steering wheel clearance was better with the Envoy, “But the pedals—especially the clutch and brake—are too close together for a size 10 foot. The fuel tank, mounted just above the driver’s legs, extends down a bit too far and it, too, restricts the room around the pedals.”
R&T continued, “The gearshift lever is mounted on the right side of the cockpit and has a standard 4-speed shift pattern. It would be perfect but for the fact that the lever is sandwiched between the frame tubes and the driver’s leg.”
And the Oversteer. “Fast bends, taken vigorously,” R&T reported, “revealed a strong oversteer in the Envoy—which would swing its tail out pretty far under pressure. However, the driver gets plenty of warning before the stern of the car begins to come around and only a complete incompetent would have any real difficulty holding the car in a drift.”
Hmm.
After waffling either way (“becomes a trifle ‘teetery’”), R&T described, “The Envoy’s initial oversteer, once one becomes accustomed to it, makes the car splendidly agile. Just a twitch at the wheel sends the car flying into the corners, where a spot of reverse lock and plenty of throttle will stop the slide and set the car drifting, after which it becomes a matter of waggling the wheel slightly to hold the drift.”
Elva or Envoy? R&T summed up, “Having driven more than one F-Jr car, we are now in a much better position to evaluate performance and draw comparisons. The Envoy, when compared to the Elva-BMC we tested in June of 1960, comes off very well in most departments. It is a far more powerful car and is less difficult to drive [the latter puzzles me; are they still carping about the Elva’s upside-down shift pattern?]—but we think that it probably corners slightly less rapidly…. In any case, it left us utterly convinced that racing production-type sports cars is a waste of time if you are trying to become a real virtuoso through the turns. All competition drivers should give F-Jr cars a try.”
And, of course, F-Jr sired Formula Ford and Formula Vee (VW-based), all three of which continue today in historic racing. ds
© Dennis Simanaitis, SimanaitisSays.com, 2024