Driving the Original Watkins Glen Grand Prix Circuit

(I’m happy to announce that Aaron65 has returned to CC and will be a regular writer here.  PN)       Watkins Glen, New York, is a village that takes its racing history seriously. Today, it’s known for Watkins Glen International, a world-renowned race track that currently hosts NASCAR and IMSA, and famously hosted the Formula One United States Grand Prix back in the 1960s and ’70s (you can still get a glass of Genesee beer on tap at Seneca Lodge, a famous hangout of famous racers…they also make a pretty good Old Fashioned). Far more romantic than any of that, however, is the fact that they hosted a Grand Prix on the streets of their little hamlet; from 1948 to 1952, you might have seen a Cad-Allard screaming through Big Bend with smoking brakes and a guy with goggles sawing at the wheel as if his life depended on it, because it did. It was a race marred by tragedy manned by men for whom adrenaline had become a fact of life. And you can still drive the course today.

Photo courtesy of International Motor Racing Research Center

 

The Watkins Glen Sports Car Grand Prix was the creation of Cameron Argetsinger, a young sports car enthusiast from the Finger Lakes region. There were plenty of sports car fans in America, young men who had, in many cases, grown up risking their lives in Europe and Asia. A dangerous motor race would have simply been, in a way, a continuation of the life they had grown accustomed to in a time of war. The course itself was 6.6 miles long; it started in Watkins Glen at the Court House and wound up Old Corning Hill, past the state park under a railroad bridge, over a narrow stone bridge, and back down the hill (over a set of railroad tracks) into the village.

Photo courtesy of NASCAR Hall of Fame and Research Center via Getty Images

 

The first race was won by Frank Griswold in a 1938 Alfa Romeo 8C 2900B Berlinetta, a gorgeous car. I can’t find it online anywhere, but I remember seeing a picture of illustrator (and Addams Family progenitor) Charles Addams painting the numbers on the side of this very Alfa; Addams was an avid sports car fan and Grand Prix participant. Here, the Alfa is crossing “Stone Bridge,” an apt descriptor.

Parked on the “Stone Bridge” is my ’23 Challenger, our host for this tour of the old circuit. The Chamber of Commerce in Watkins Glen is more than happy to hand you a map so you can drive the old route, but they will ask you to obey posted speed limits. That becomes difficult when the adrenaline of nostalgia starts to flow.

The start/finish line is right in town on Franklin Street, and the course is so well-marked that even if you don’t have a map, you can follow it. There would have been hay bales lining the course back when the original race was run.

Then, you’ll take a right and start climbing Old Corning Hill, where you’ll pass Seneca Lodge on the right.

This starts a long stretch with some tricky corners, but you’ll also pass under this narrow railroad underpass, which certainly unsettled more than one MG TC back in the day.

Unfortunately, it was in this area that popular racer Sam Collier lost his life in the 1950 Grand Prix while racing a Ferrari 166. Sam was a popular character in the Watkins Glen racing circle, as he and his brother Miles formed the Automobile Racing Club of America in 1933, which eventually morphed into the Sports Car Club of America, which is still active today. Miles died only a few years later of polio, in 1954. This memorial for both brothers is on the “Underpass Straight” where Sam crashed in 1950.

A series of S-turns doesn’t seem so bad until you realize that those old Cunninghams and XK-120s were probably approaching 100 miles per hour through here.

Then, you take a fairly sharp right to approach “Cornett’s Stone Bridge,” shown before. It’s a narrow downhill stretch where driver Denver Cornett “flipped his MG into the creek.” (Don’t worry, he was OK, and he flipped his car back upright and raced later that day with some borrowed parts.)

This bridge must look awfully narrow when you’re barreling toward it in a race car without a windshield. Perhaps in the rain.

After another fairly sharp right-hander after the bridge, you enter the railroad straight, so named because racers would have to pass a railroad crossing. It was not a smooth one, so surviving pictures of the races show MGs and OSCAs landing on their front wheels after a fairly lurid hop. These guys were fearless.

The tracks are still there, although they’ve been smoothed out a few times over the years.

In my opinion, the most terrifying part of the course is “Big Bend,” a broad downhill curve where road signs urge trucks to use low gear. In that era of four-wheel drum brakes, downshifting to slow down was a natural course of action, but barreling down this hill must have been equal parts electrifying and terrifying, especially in some of the bigger machines that would show up at the races.

Still descending into town…Eventually you’ll take a sharp left and a sharp right.

And you’re back on the main straight, ready to start another lap.

As I mentioned, the race itself was marred by tragedy. In addition to Sam Collier’s death in 1950, an Allard driven by Fred Wacker accidentally brushed the crowd (there was some confusion and some people weren’t clear of the race course), and 12 people were injured and a child killed. Apparently, while attending the child’s funeral, Wacker tearfully promised the child’s father that he would give up racing. This is another picture of the Alfa that won the inaugural event.

The original road race ended on that lap of the 1952 event, but it continued at a more rural venue for a few years before racing on public roads in Watkins Glen gave way to the race track that still stands today. Watkins Glen International has hosted Formula One, Indy Car, NASCAR, and IMSA, among others, and although it’s had its share of tragedy as well, the danger to spectators has obviously been reduced. You can still tour the track today in your own car, too. If you show up at noon and five p.m. (on most days, call ahead), you can spend $40, sign a waiver, and take three laps around the track before parking on the front straight for pictures.

Being a great motor racing town, Watkins Glen is also home to the International Motor Racing Research Center, which is open to anyone. I walked around with my wife and looked at dozens of motoring books that I will be putting on my wish list (I’ve already ordered two), and I talked to a really nice guy who shows up weekly to do research on American short track racing. I even grabbed a 1959 Lincoln brochure from the “Free” table. It’s an amazing place, and they do a lot to teach the public about the rich history of racing in the Finger Lakes area.

Any village that has little race cars atop their street signs and murals on their walls is my kind of village, and it doesn’t hurt that it’s in the midst of one of America’s most beautiful natural formations. (If you like waterfalls, you should really plan a trip.) After a few days wandering around Seneca Lake, my head is swimming with automotive history, and that’s not a bad place to be.