Vintage racing cars are temperamental and delicate beasts. Just because they’re from simpler and more rudimentary times, lacking computers and other advanced electronics, doesn’t mean they’re easy to keep alive, let alone drive, and much less race. Most are like expensive, irreplaceable family heirlooms. You wouldn’t put Granny’s Steinway in a trailer and haul it to dive bars across the country, would you? Luckily, that’s more or less what Honda has been doing recently with perhaps its biggest heirloom: the 1965 RA272, the car that won Honda its first Formula 1 race.
OK, the 2024 Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion isn’t exactly a dive bar, and neither is the Goodwood Festival of Speed—where Yuki Tsunoda drove the RA272 back in July—but you get the gist. The simple fact that this car leaves the safety of the Honda Collection Hall in Motegi is tough to comprehend, but I am oh so grateful that it does.
Acura, Honda, and the company’s racing arm, HRC, united forces during Monterey Car Week to bring this special car to the U.S. for its first run on American soil. The motive behind the elaborate stunt was to celebrate the automaker’s 60th anniversary of its first F1 race. In August 1964, Honda entered the RA271 in the German Grand Prix, then held at the Nürburgring. It was the first time a Japanese car company entered an F1 race, and it did so with an American driver, to boot.
The RA272 was the RA271’s evolution and it contested in the 1965 Formula 1 World Championship. It was driven to victory by Richie Ginther at the Mexican Grand Prix that year, earning Honda its maiden win at the pinnacle of motor racing. Powered by a 1.5-liter V12, it was famous for having one of the most potent and reliable engines of that era, not to mention that it could rev to the moon… or about 13,000 rpm, to be precise.
Experiencing a modern F1 car up close is always a special treat. From seeing them tethered to computers as if they were a body on life support, to the dozen or so engineers it takes to get them running, the complexity of it all is overwhelming. That said, this was my first time getting as close to a vintage F1 car. Exploring the level of engineering they used back in the ’60s; the components; the whole concept of manufacturing a bespoke chassis and engine for top-level racing is an opportunity that doesn’t come often—if ever. And not to mention, this isn’t just any F1 car. If this were really a family heirloom, its previous owner would’ve been the head of a royal family.
Honda kindly granted me unrestricted access to the RA272 and its team of ace engineers who traveled with the car during its appearance at Laguna Seca. From an all-systems check before firing up the engine to a post-race debrief with the driver, the goal is to give you, the reader, a front-row seat to this incredible experience.
V12 Fury
Dressed in period-correct mechanic coveralls and caps, the Japanese engineers methodically cleaned and organized their tools and pit area before firing up the car for the first time. They carefully checked fluid levels to ensure the V12 had proper lubrication, but equally as important was carburating the motor so it breathed right. The pre-start checklist of a ’60s F1 car is much shorter and less intense than that of a modern F1 car, which requires a computer and warm fluids to be pumped through the block an hour before ignition.
It was time to bring the V12 to life. One of the engineers connected the external starter to the car while the chief engineer gave the signal to make some noise. I was standing about four feet away from the rear left tire when I felt like something punched me in the chest. The powerful blow of the exhaust hit me even before my ears could even acknowledge the roar of the V12. I was grateful for my earplugs.
The chief engineer let the engine idle for a minute, but the sound was still deafening. It was hard to see from where I was standing, but I believe the tachometer showed around 4,000 to 5,000 rpm while idling. Before long, the engine was being put through its paces, which meant repeatedly revving it high and letting the revs come back down to idle—over and over again. Then all hell broke loose as he began a quick series of repeated full-throttle stabs.
Despite the Japanese engineers always looking serious and focused, there was a slight smirk on their faces by now. You could tell they were loving this as much as everyone else who had gathered around the car. Then again, how could they not? This is what they do—they look after this car. They are the guardians of one of Honda’s most historic machines, which is kept in nearly all-original form.
“The monocoque of the RA272 is completely original, but a few other parts have been repaired or reproduced based on the original spec,” Chief Engineer Tsuyoshi Ishihara explained to me. “A lot of the parts are manufactured by Honda, though some have to be outsourced.”
This may or may not be a surprise, but race cars don’t just roll off the trailer ready to go on the track. Whether you’re racing a go-kart or an F1 car, they require hours of extensive prep work to get them running. And then a few more hours of fine-tuning so they perform better than their rivals.
According to Ishihara-san, prepping the RA272 for its recent outings at Goodwood and Laguna Seca took over a month of painstaking work. The last time the car had run before that was at Motegi in April, so this year has been especially busy for the heritage team. Much of the car was disassembled, and the team carefully pored over all of its components to get it ready for Tsunoda.
“It takes a team of four mechanics to make it run,” Ishihara-san said to me. “This car went to Goodwood first, then it came here to Laguna Seca. In total, it took one month to get it ready for these runs.
“The car lives at the Collection Hall but is in constant maintenance [despite being on display]. Twice a year, a team of two mechanics gives it a major maintenance overhaul, which takes a full month to complete,” he added.
This highly detailed work was evident, as the car was absolutely pristine. It wasn’t just the RA272’s body that was spotless, but every single component. The wheels, the suspension arms, the transmission case, even the rubber hoses. Of course, this car lives a pampered life, but it’s also true that this is the standard racing teams adhere to from IndyCar to F1. Even after the static engine firing, the rear end was quickly wiped down to ensure no soot or other fluids dirtied the car.
Hitting the Track
If you’ve never been to a Rolex Monterey Motorsports Reunion, all you have to know is that there are many rich people there, and as a result, some serious race cars. From McLaren F1s to ex-Lauda Ferraris and ex-Andretti Lotuses, the heavy hitters are there en masse. McLaren CEO Zak Brown brought his Silk Cut Jaguar XJR-8 Le Mans race car this year. Two years ago, I talked to Malcolm Ross, a lovely racer and collector from Ohio who had brought his Le Mans-winning Porsche 962C. This year, the Porsche stayed back (it’s on display at the Porsche Experience Center in Atlanta), but he brought his other toys to soften the blow.
Finally, the ropes came off and it was time to head out to the grid. I closely walked behind the Honda like an infatuated groupie following their favorite rock band. Everyone, and I mean everyone, took notice of the RA272. People understood that it was a big deal. The car lined up on the grid in front of the group of other historic cars due to go out.
Hikaru Miyagi is a contracted HRC driver who has a lot of experience with Honda’s historic machines. Like the rest of the group, he also hails from Japan and had been selected for that day’s assignment. After a quick word with HRC supremo Koji Watanabe, he put his helmet on and lowered himself into the car. This is where I’d normally say, “He belted up,” but the thing is that the RA272 doesn’t have seatbelts.
The engine was fired up once more and left at idle to bring it up to temperature. Under the guidance of Ishihara-san, Miyagi-san put the V12 through its pre-race procedure, which of course left everyone around it in awe. There’s something magical about the sound—maybe it’s the fact that F1 cars no longer sound remotely close to that, or perhaps it’s the car’s age and historical importance. It’s probably both.
If I had been behind the wheel, you can bet I would’ve taken it easy around the track, but that’s not how professional racing drivers think. Miyagi-san gave it the full togarashi from the get-go, peeling out of the paddock while drastically revving the engine to keep it from stalling. As soon as the RA272 left the paddock I ran back to the pit building so I could see it come around on its next lap. And listen, I’m not a guy who runs. But that day, I ran. I wasn’t missing this for the world.
Once perched on the upper level of the pits, I could hear the Honda making its way down Turns 9 and 10, and then I saw the car appear at Turn 11, the last corner before the main straight. At last, I was able to see and hear what I’d been waiting to see and hear for months: the RA272’s V12 stretch its legs and rocket down the tarmac.
I’ve been lucky enough to attend many F1 races across the globe, starting with some in the early ’90s and up to modern times. I’ve seen the evolution of the cars and heard the evolution of the engines. Nothing comes close to what I heard that day at Laguna Seca—not even the bazillion-dollar vintage Ferraris from the Goodwood Revival. The sound of the RA272 is something I’ll never forget.
Miyagi-san ran its scheduled session and returned to the pits, where the car was thoroughly inspected and allowed to rest. Later, the car went out for its second and final track session. This one was a bit shorter than the first one but still made for a special sight. The track’s TV feed allowed me to get a small glimpse of his hands finessing the wheel through the fast, sweeping corners, but it wasn’t until HRC released the onboard footage a few days later that I understood what a handful it was.
The Cool-Down Lap
As things wound down for the day, I caught up with Miyagi-san who I could tell was still a bit high on adrenaline. Despite a long career of mastering two- and four-wheeled racing machines, he was clearly under the RA272’s spell.
“The Corkscrew was a challenge, but it was fun!” he told me before I even asked him a question. “It was my first time experiencing it.”
I asked about the physicality of piloting the car, the track, and also the massive responsibility of driving such a historically important car. In response to the last bit, he jokingly scoffed that he’s sampled many cars and motorcycles from the Honda Collection Hall—as if to say “No big deal.”
“It’s difficult, though you’d think the steering would be heavy, but it isn’t,” said Miyagi-san. “It’s more like dancing with a grandma—you have to be very aware of your movements and do everything very carefully because she’s fragile. But it’s so much fun, so much fun.
“While I [don’t think about the pressure] I do enjoy the privilege and I always like to picture myself [as if I were racing] back in the machine’s original era. It’s a very special feeling.”
At some point, Jun Tomizawa—another of the HRC engineers who traveled from Tokyo—approached me in the garage with an iPad in hand. It contained a trove of vintage photos—most of them black and white—from the car’s old racing days. As Tomizawa-san flipped through the photos an older man came up behind us to take a peek. Many fans had congregated around the car by then, so neither of us thought much of it. Suddenly, the man pointed at the photo and said, “Hey that’s me behind the Honda.” We turned around, and it was Derek Bell!
The former F1 racer and five-time Le Mans winner was driving another vintage race car during the event but had seen the Honda’s special appearance and decided to swing by the garage. It certainly was a “pinch-me” moment. Also present at the track were Jeff and Steve Bucknum, sons of Ronnie Bucknum, Honda’s first F1 driver and Ginther’s former teammate.
This incredible experience confirmed that F1 cars have always been mysterious, magical, complex machines—with or without computers. However, what’s always been even more special are the people behind the machines. That’s the part that Honda really nails. You can’t go racing, let alone winning, without talented and empowered individuals. You can’t accomplish what Honda has throughout decades of motorsport without fostering a winning spirit amongst your people. Without those dedicated characters, these cars would just be cool paperweights.
Ishihara-san said it best: “I enjoy the history of Honda and the history of the RA272—and my hope is that the next generation [of engineers] embraces the difficult task of taking care of this car just like I have in the past.”
Email the author at jerry@thedrive.com