The Paul Ricard circuit gave me some unexpected encounters. After coming across Pierluigi Martini’s six-wheeled Tyrrell, I found myself in front of another legend: the original 1976 P34, driven on this occasion by Patrick Depailler’s son himself.
It is a car that holds a special place in my career. At the time, it was Ken Tyrrell himself who commissioned me to do the technical drawings for the team’s official brochure, granting me full access to the car and invaluable working sessions alongside designer Derek Gardner.
Tyrrell P34, the innovative technical solution
The P34 was a revolutionary machine. The basic idea was bold: use four small front wheels to reduce the frontal area and gain a drastic aerodynamic advantage. In practice, however, the massive bulk of the traditional rear wheels negated a large part of that benefit on the airflow.
Yet, despite the critical issues, the project proved to be a winner on the track. The real setback only came from 1977 onwards, when Goodyear chose to exclusively develop the rear tires, neglecting the small front ones. A decision that irreparably destroyed the dynamic balance of the single-seater.
The fascination with six wheels subsequently infected Williams and March as well, who explored the route of four rear wheels. Those projects, however, never saw the track, nipped in the bud by the ban imposed by the International Federation on four-wheel drive.
Tyrrell, on the other hand, had time to evolve into a second aerodynamic guise, more enclosed, studied, and refined. What I admired today in the pits, though, is the pure essence of that intuition: the very first specification, the one taken to the limit by Patrick Depailler.
A source of pride
It is a car so iconic and unconventional that I will dedicate a central chapter to it in my next book. But the greatest emotion of this weekend in France was meeting Patrick’s son. Discovering that he knew my work perfectly, and that his father had spoken to him about me, brought everything full circle.
This is exactly the true privilege of the Historic Grand Prix: the profound joy of finding on track not only the cars that marked my professional life, but also the stories and human bonds that made them eternal.
