were after, they could have that at any of the
races whether they were sprints or endurance
race. If what they wanted was to see death and
destruction, on the other hand – and there’s no
doubt that this is part of what draws people to
watch high-speed motorsport – then the newly
opened race track in Berlin’s Botanical Gardens
in July 1909 was the place to be. A pacing
machine blew a tyre, skidding across the track.
Another machine swerved to avoid it and then
took off, out of control, hurtling over the barrier
into the crowd, where it exploded, killing nine
spectators and injuring 52.

Despite the dangers, or maybe, in a way,

because of them, motor pacing continued to

grow in popularity in all its various forms.

Races were run as sprints, or over set distances,

or as endurance events over 24 hours or even

several days. Motor pacing wasn’t confined

to race tracks, either. Endurance races were

run on public roads, with the most famous,

the Bordeaux to Paris race, first run in 1891.

The race was supposed to last for days and the

organisers had arranged food and lodgings

for the competitors, but English racer George

Pilkington Mills saw nothing in the rules that

made him think he had to stop for a kip, so he

raced on through the night, as did the rest of

the British team. They made do with short

stops for food and kept going, with George

Pilkington Mills arriving first in Paris, 26

hours 36 minutes and 25 seconds after leaving

Bordeaux. Other riders were still coming in

two days later.

Along with the motor paced races came

the thing that interested me most – motor

paced speed records. That, after all, was what

I was going to be tackling. One of the first

major records was set by Charles Minthorn

Murphy in 1899. Murphy was a proper, tough

New Yorker who claimed to have cycled the

equivalent of almost 100 mph on static rollers

and that he could cycle as fast as any man-made

machine. The Long Island Railroad Company

decided to let Murphy prove his boasts and

they laid 10-inch wide (250 mm) boards

lengthways between the tracks on a two-mile

stretch of their railway between Babylon and

Farmingdale on New York’s Long Island.

With the sleepers covered, this made a perfect,
flat surface for Murphy to ride on – or so
they thought.

The railway company built a special fairing on

to the back of one of their carriages, a kind of

open-backed shed with a roof and walls that

extended down to the rails. This was to provide

a protected slipstream enclosure for Murphy

to ride in. Their aim was to crack the 60 mph

barrier, covering a measured mile in less than

one minute. As I have discovered with all of

the challenges that I’ve attempted, nothing

ever goes entirely according to plan, and poor

Murphy, riding behind a steam locomotive, was

to come across some unexpected problems.

On their first run the 29-year-old quickly

discovered that the perfectly flat surface he

thought he’d be riding on turned into a mini

rollercoaster once they were underway. The

weight of the locomotive and carriage ahead

of him depressed the rails and sleepers, which

then rose back into place again, creating an

undulating effect. It was enough to make most

people feel sea sick, but Murphy didn’t have

time to think of that; he was too busy dealing

with being shot-blasted by hot cinders, sparks

and dust thrown up from underneath the train.

Steam, smoke and sparks from a locomotive

don’t only spew out of the smoke stack, there’s

a fair amount ends up dumped on the track, too,

as Murphy found out the hard way! On their

first run they covered the mile in one minute

and eight seconds, mainly because the train

failed to get over 60 mph. Murphy was forced

DISCOVERING THE WORLD OF MOTOR PACING    19