Jim Clark possessed an otherworldly talent in a race car. His talent and accomplishments were such that he’s universally acclaimed as one of the world’s best race car drivers.
Surprising many, another passion also drew him in — farming, of all things. He frequently spoke of retiring to the peaceful calm of his sheep farm in the Scottish borderlands.
That never happened. The boisterous, frenetic, perilous world of racing won out.
Clark’s first taste of motorized competition came in 1956 at local sports car events near his family’s farm. A mere six years later, he won his first of two Formula 1 World Championships. Another six years and he was gone, leaving behind an indelible racing legacy.
In 72 Formula 1e starts, he captured 33 poles, set 28 fastest race laps, and won 25 races. A phenomenal 35% victory rate. In 1963, he took his first World Championship, winning seven of 10 F1 races. In 1965, he won the Indianapolis 500 and claimed yet another World Championship. He remains the only driver to have won both in a single season.
Clark didn’t limit himself to one type of racing. He often attempted new disciplines for the sheer joy the challenge offered. He won on the Indy Car miles, in sports cars, and in hill climbs. At the urging of his friend, Fireball Roberts, he even ran some NASCAR races.
Not mechanically adept, Clark possessed the rare ability to force a car to do what he required of it. Questioned about what his car needed, he’d shrug his shoulders and tell his crew, “Don’t change anything. It’s OK the way it is.” Then he would go out and dominate his competition.
His polished driving style was easy on equipment, yet deceptively fast. And when necessary, he could turn up the wick to an incredible level.
He dominated Monza’s 1967 Italian Grand Prix before a flat tire caused him to lose a lap. Back on the track, he pushed his car faster with each circuit. On seven consecutive laps, he set a race record. On the last lap, he blasted back into the lead, only to have his car run out of fuel. He finished third.
The pivotal point in Clark’s career was a chance meeting with fledgling car builder Colin Chapman in 1959. After they joined forces for the 1960 season, Clark raced for few others. Theirs was a perfect blend of engineering genius and driving brilliance.
Despite his tremendous success in Formula One, it was at Indianapolis that Clark won the awe, adulation, and respect of American fans.
With the Ford Motor Company’s support, in 1963 Chapman launched an all-out Indy effort. At first, Clark was skeptical of Indy’s allure, but later it captured his imagination.
“To me, Indianapolis is almost indescribable,” he explained. “It’s one big holiday, fair, and motor race rolled into one. A national institution, the circuit almost a shrine. I was totally unprepared for it, and as it turned out, Indianapolis was totally unprepared for me.”
It certainly was.
The Indy car establishment was rattled by the “foreign invasion” with their rear-engine funny cars. Turmoil abounded.
Amid the uproar, Clark quietly went about his business. He nearly won the 500 in his first attempt, finishing second to all-American hero, Parnelli Jones, in one of the more controversial finishes in Indianapolis history.
The skill he demonstrated that afternoon, and his graciousness in defeat gained him immense admiration among fans and competitors alike. When he won the 1965 500, leading 190 of 200 laps, he became one of Indy’s most revered champions.
There are those who still insist Clark won the 1966 500. He quietly accepted second place. 1967 was an inconsequential 500. Then in March 1968, Clark tested a car he believed would make him a repeat 500 winner. Andy Granatelli’s new Lotus turbine.
But fate intervened. On April 7 at Hockenheim, during an insignificant Formula Two race, a deflating rear tire at 160 mph caused Clark to crash into the dark German forest. The car disintegrated around him, and he died 15 minutes later.
His death stunned the world.
Clark once philosophized about racing deaths, “You want to quit when someone dies. You honestly lose all interest in racing. A day later, you feel a little better. Three days later, you’re packing your bags for another race. You go on.”
A few days later, on both sides of the Atlantic, Clark’s saddened competitors packed their bags and went racing. The racing always goes on.
