Brazil GP - The girls from Ipanema

by Inky Black

With two old cars and a bad reputation, the Dixie Hills All-Girl Pit Crew arrived at the Brazil GP with plenty to prove. The team were well-known for their wet t-shirt contests, and people were still talking about the Full Monty in Melbourne. But here, here in a country where everyone wears a bikini, the girls would try to wear the pants.

Oba! That means whoopie here in Sampa! And Sampa means Sao Paulo here in Sao Paulo. "Oba Sampa! We're here!" screamed the Dixie Hills All-Girl Pit Crew as they busted out of the airport and into the rhythms of everyday Paulistano life.

The girls had one day free and headed straight to Ipanema Beach. Here they found that everyone in Brazil wears bikinis. Men and women. Old and young. Big and small. Rotund and rotunder. Everybody!

And there are two kinds of bikinis here. One is extremely more skimpy than is beyond belief. The other is smaller and is called the "Fio Dental." Yes, that's it, it's called the dental floss! After the beach it was back to Sampa and back to business.

At the air freight terminal everyone watched the unloading. A Minardi had been dropped after Melbourne, and the crew didn't need damage to their cars. Under the bright Brazilian sun, Cha Cha Chitwood and the Dixie Hills All-Girl Pit Crew brought the 1958 Maserati and the 1967 BRM safely down to the tarmac. The team's cars were a bright pink; with green stars painted as accent stripes down the sides, and along the lines of the cockpit and nose.

The pink glistened against the blue Brazilian sky as the girls turned for the terminal. "A job well done," they thought. On cue, the overhead crane dropped a Minardi. Again. It went point first into the BRM that Jackie Stewart had driven so well in 1967. Both cars were wrecked as the Minardi wedged itself deep into the BRM cockpit... now don't say a thing about dual liveries!

In a flash the BRM was gone, and if the girls were going to race this week, it would be in a Maserati that was older than all of them. "Betcha don't pass anybody in that crate!" yelled a nearby Crew Chief, "Not a chance!"

"Betcha so!" countered Cha Cha, never one to back down.

"You won't pass anybody; I'll bet you a week in a Bikini..." he came back, "And I'm talking the whole crew!"

"You're on!" said Cha Cha as the Dixie Hills All-Girl Pit Crew dropped into instant depression. First it was a wet t-shirt contest here and there, then the Full Monty in Melbourne. Now Cha Cha had bet Bikinis in Brazil. "Oh No" sighed the team. They figured breaking in to Formula One would be tough, but this was getting ridiculous!

They sat on the kerb with a jar of moonshine and the Minardi crew. There was some good news. The team had bought some of the latest in high-tech brakes and wheels. These would work as well on the Maserati as on the BRM. And a spark was flickering deep in the sub-conscious of the whole team. 1200 bhp of turbocharged Ford 427 sat undamaged in the back of the BRM. Was there room for a second Ford engine on the Maserati chassis? Would 2400 bhp get the Dixie Hills All-Girl Pit Crew the respect and the speed that they needed?

There is enough room under the big rear cowling of a front-engined Maserati to keep a keg of beer. In fact, that's was where the Dixie Hills Crew kept the keg of beer. But with the BRM out of commission they planned on stuffing an extra 427 cubic inch Ford engine in there. That would make it a 14 litre Maserati with two turbochargers, 2400 horses and about a dozen pit stops for gasoline. Not bad, they thought. "This might work!" It would be fast on the straight sections but it's going to corner like a greased pig on linoleum. This is to say "fat, sideways, and with a lot of kicking and squealing."

With the keg out, the 427 engine dropped neatly into the rear of the Maserati. The gas tank and some other gizmo's had to be moved but that was nothing compared to getting the brakes on. The high-tech large diameter carbon-fiber units and modern wide tyres would give the '58 some awesome stopping power. And with two 427 engines onboard, they just might need some awesome stopping power. First practice was the next morning; they might surprise some folks!

854 cubic inches of twin-engined Maserati rolled out of the garage and into the morning light. And everyone in Interlagos looked up as 2400 horsepower barked to life. The FIA inspectors looked at the car and shook their heads. "They think they are going to get away with that?" they thought, "There isn't enough moonshine in South America to get us to pass that car!"

Watched by everyone, even the top talent of the racing world stepped to the end of pit row for a peek. The girls gave them nicknames as they passed by to rubberneck. First were "Hot Dog" Williams and Dennis "the Menace." Jean Todt became "Elvis," and Eddie Jordan, with his granny glasses and long sideburns, was "Ringo."

It was late, but time enough for one flying lap. Everything looked good, and rumors of an awesome pink machine with green stars had filtered through to the crowd. One flying lap would be a great statement. The team couldn't win the race. They couldn't even pass inspection. But they could show off!

Cha Cha eased the car down pit lane. When she blipped the twin throttles, people listened... glass cracked... women and children ran. Cha Cha left a patch of rubber a hundred feet long in front of the timing tower. "Courtesy of first gear" thought Cha Cha. Second gear left another hundred feet. And then Cha Cha moved the car into turn one, into third gear, and into a ton of luck.

"Nail 'em on the straight! Nail 'em on the straight!" crackled a voice on the cellphone Cha Cha carried in the car. A glance in the mirrors showed nothing. Cha Cha eased and coasted towards Costa del Sol, the last corner before the straight. "Nail 'em on the straight! Nail 'em on the straight!" crackled the phone again. Three tiny blips came into the mirrors and "Wham On The Gas!" screamed Cha Cha to herself as she floored the Maserati. Three World Champions passed her on the outside of the turn, their exhaust notes drowned out by the scream and squeal of the Pink Pig.

Luck shone on Cha Cha like the bright sun on the pink car. Her timing was perfect, and with smoke pouring from the tyres, she caught up to and passed the three cars on the straight-away. The World Champion of 1996 went down as the Maserati hit 220. She overtook the WC of 1997 at about 240. FIA telemetry read 255 miles per hour as she tore by WC 1998 with just enough room on left to stand on the brakes.

Cha Cha smiled to herself at about 260 mph. "Racing fans sure don't see this every day" she thought as she gave the brakes a dab; then stomped on them good! The carbon grabbed the large-diameter disks and hammered 'em to an immediate crawl. The big tyres oozed rubber into the track as they gripped the asphalt like a pit bull. What brakes! The deceleration was awesome.

The suspension mounts, however, were not awesome. The space-age brakes and special-compound tyres locked themselves to the pavement, they basically stopped on a peso. For the overweight 1958 Maserati tub, stopping was not an option. The body parted with the suspension and left the tyres and brakes stopped perfectly in place on the asphalt. Telemetry from the tub indicated 230 mph as it headed off the track and into downtown Interlagos. "Racing fans sure don't see this everyday" thought Cha Cha.

Anticipation is a racing skill, and Cha Cha Chitwood was already considering the stretch of Avenido Interlagos she was about to join.

Avenido Interlagos is the main drag through the resort community which lives up to it's name. It's between two lakes. And between two lakes you will find a shopping district where tourists and week-enders buy little things like souvenirs and bikinis. It was fast and bumpy as the car hurtled into it's date with downtown.

The 1958 Maserati of the Dixie Hills All-Girl Pit Crew, and their chances of winning, may have skidded to a stop in the parking lot of the local Bikini World. "But there is a god," thought Cha Cha, as she unbelted and stepped inside to order bikinis for a certain all-male Formula One crew.

Inside, the clerk asked "Would you like those in regular or Fio Dental?"

Article is written by and copywrite (c) 1999 Jeff Rose, Binghamton, NY.
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