Road to Le Mans

I will tell you my Road to Le Mans.

In 2022, I was approached by a group of enthusiasts who own an Aero Minor 1949. That year they participated in the race for the first time but failed to finish it. They asked me to take on the project and invited me to a track day at the Most circuit.

I grabbed my basic tools and set off. Already there it became clear to me that this silver rocket had its quirks and tricks. It was a complete tragedy in my eyes. The Minor was stubborn and wouldn't go. The drivers didn't mind much and assured me nothing was wrong. I was thrown into the water and drowning in ignorance of the machine. Nevertheless, we agreed and my Road to Le Mans began.

The task was clear: prepare the Minor for its centenary race in less than a year. The Minor needed a lot of love and care. Along the way, I began to learn what and how. The guys from Minor service helped me a lot. I could never have done it without them. They not only gave me valuable advice but were willing to give me parts from series Minors.

At every test, something literally fell apart. It is very difficult to maintain such a jewel, especially one that in 1949 proved that our expedition from Czechoslovakia could win its class and literally went down in the history of the race.

The problem peaked during extended testing when, upon opening the pit lane, the engine was running but no gear could be engaged. I didn't want to give up, I had a spare engine with me, so I swapped the engines in less than an hour and the Minor was flying on the track again.

At other times, already very close to the departure to France, the gearbox broke down. Almost everything was wrong. I worked all night and by 6 in the morning the gearbox was reassembled again.

Throughout the preparation I was waking up at 3 in the morning and sometimes preparing the car late into the night. My only vision was to prepare the Minor so it could finish the Le Mans race. Never give up, even though it was sometimes quite demanding. I also wanted to have my family there to see everything and experience the atmosphere of the race.

I brought a lot of tools and parts along. I had almost everything and what I didn't have, I was determined to replace with anything, just to get the car running and be able to complete the entire race.

The trip to Le Mans with the car on a trailer would make a long story in itself. On the second day of the journey, something poisonous bit my leg and my ankle started to swell. I had to go through the entire race with it, and ended up in the Medical Center late Saturday evening. I was given antibiotics and told I must have been bitten by some spider.

The arrival and legendary campground for drivers. 100 years of the race. Almost all the jewels from the history of the race arrived. An absolute olympiad in motorsport. Grand celebrations, but somehow it still doesn't sink in that something enormous is approaching. Just the track itself. It's hard to imagine a harder test for cars and their endurance. I found that out the hard way.

I was my own self-mechanic. Compared to other teams and crews, an absolute anomaly. When my father arrived at the camp instead of me, he dropped his bag in his Motorsport shirt and started helping me because he couldn't leave me alone. My leg kept swelling and started displaying all possible colors. But nothing could stop me.

The vehicle inspection before the race went smoothly. The Aero Minor is practically unknown to FIA stewards and they barely realize it's a two-stroke.

That same day, the entire electrical system of competitors with a Saab 93b caught fire. When I heard that, I ran to the garage and went to the mechanics and offered them all my wires, cables and anything I had brought that could help them repair the car. With the calm of an Englishman, the mechanics thanked me, and they managed to get the car ready for the race.

The time came. The first drive is also qualifying for the race. To complete it, the race car must complete one measured lap. We did it. The car arrives at the pit lane for the mandatory stop. I open the hood and behold, the alternator is hanging on wires in the undercarriage. The vibrations of the car on the track are insane. A test of technology and its endurance in practice. I quickly put everything together and send the Minor back on the track. My state could be described as hypnosis. I literally hypnotize the screen where I watch the position of our car on live timing. Number 58. Just like in 1949.

Qualified. After the finish, the driver reports that fourth gear won't engage.

Back to the garage. I feel like I'm in a dream. Like back in time when my father took me to rallies and the service zone where mechanics worked on cars on a piece of tarpaulin. I constantly have tears in my eyes, I keep reassuring myself that this is happening and I'm part of the greatest racing circuit in the world.

After the first practice session, the crews returned to the garage and everyone, absolutely everyone, started repairing. Everyone broke something, everyone had a problem. I was forced to replace the entire system–engine and gearbox. There was relatively enough time, so with my father's help we got down to it. A thorough inspection took place. The track is an absolute killer of old machines.

Done, replaced. In the garage on a lift the engine and gearbox were tested, everything OK.

Free practice went without problems, only the ignition cap fell off the car. I replaced it with a spare and reinforced it with electrical tape.

Local drivers standing in the garage next to us had a clutch problem and came to ask me if I had a certain part. On a piece of paper we drew a cotter pin, hurray, now we understand each other. I have it, how many do you need. They only needed one. It saved their race and brought me a pleasant acquaintance with great older guys from France.

Calm before the storm. The first race drive went relatively smoothly. The drivers drove beautifully and pushed ahead. With one of the weakest cars in the grid, it was not easy at all. But what decides the result here is a handicap formula, which means that the fastest car doesn't necessarily have to be the winning car, which greatly adds to the interest and suspense of the race.

After the finish, my neighbors have problems. Talbot Lago after Juan Manuel Fangio. They helped me every time the Minor fell apart during testing in Most. Now it's time to repay the debt. I run with the entire trolley of tools and announce–guys, I have all the tools at your disposal. Diagnosis–faulty seal under the head. Not much time, we work hard, full effort. We did it, it took 10 extra minutes, but the guys can continue. Although their head won't hold up again and they won't see the finish line, but no one wants to give up beforehand.

Second race drive. Nighttime and it started to rain. The driver reports during the handover that it's slippery and he went into the hour markers. A miracle that the Minor is intact. Last handover and it seems the clutch started to slip. The night drive ends very late. Not much time left before the last race drive.

I send the driver to sleep. There's not enough time to replace the clutch. Dad supports me in the garage mainly with his presence, he falls asleep from exhaustion in his chair. I try to at least help the clutch a bit and rinse it with brake cleaner. Whether that will have a positive effect, God knows. I fall asleep for a moment on the ground next to the car. By 6 in the morning I have to prepare the Minor for its last drive. It's early in the morning. So far the Minor has held up. The end of the race is so close and yet so far.

The last drive will decide. Will the clutch last to the finish? First measured lap and our fastest measured lap of the entire weekend. Relief, the Minor is working and flying. Last driver handover. We tell him in the ear that he'll safely bring it to the finish. I won't take any risks.

As he said, so he did. It's here! A miracle happened. I'm crying uncontrollably, they're tears of happiness and emotion. The whole team is thrilled, we did the impossible. We are the best Czech crew and the only ones from the Czech Republic who finished the entire race.

Emotions can't be stopped, it's truly a fulfilled dream. We did it. The Minor lasted. I attribute it only to luck that favored the prepared. I was willing to do anything to finish. In preparation and during the race. This was confirmed about a month after the race when two important components literally fell apart. The starter and the main brake cylinder. A miracle. It fell apart only after the finish line.

Road to Le Mans shows that sometimes nothing is impossible. When a person really wants something and goes for it, they will achieve it. When they do their work honestly, people appreciate it and it can happen that an opportunity comes that you've dreamed about since childhood because you're soaked in motorsport from head to toe.