16. Bruno SABY - The MyLittleRedCar column in AUTOHEROES #027

Every day, I take winding roads near my childhood village: Gières, a small town east of Grenoble.
In the light of sunset, when the shadows of the mountains begin to caress the treetops, I often find myself swept away by the sweet nostalgia of that time when happiness was a constant state. Memories spring forth within me like showers of sparks under the studded tires gripping the road surface of the rallies of my childhood.

My friends and I always had a front-row seat to watch the cars go by on the roads of the Monte Carlo Rally. Fingers clenched in fists blue with cold, breath short and foggy, we listened in the distance to the engine roar and the gear changes. When the racing car finally approached, there was this irresistible rush of heat, and our feet, planted firmly in the snow on the roadside, suddenly started bouncing.

It seems to me that childhood is exactly that: magical moments we spend our lives trying to recapture. We were dazzled by the bursts of fire caused by the pyramidal studs on tires imported from Nordic countries. On dry pavement, they offered fireworks to our young eyes. The smell of white-hot oil, the smoke from the engines of these racing cars flashing by like shooting stars, overwhelmed the rest of our senses. The drivers were our heroes, even more so than all those who were preparing to conquer space.

In 1959, I was 10 years old and I remember seeing Vespa 400s passing by amidst the big motorcycles. Perhaps this tiny, unassuming vehicle was the trigger: if such a modest machine, used by my own father, could participate in the rally, the dream of one day becoming one of the heroes myself became more attainable.

My father's boss, a traveling salesman, would lend him one from time to time, and I would stand on the seat, hood up, hair blowing in the wind. What freedom!
In our mountains, the first snowfalls sometimes arrive unexpectedly, and I still fondly remember my father telling me the story of the truck driver who agreed to load his Vespa 400 onto his trailer, trapping it in the powder. No wonder that a few years later, even before getting my driver's license, I bought myself a Vespa 400—my first car, my first time drifting on the road!

My father, initially reluctant, didn't have to fight my determination to become a racing driver for long. He was my first co-driver! The whole family started to believe in me; my brothers and sisters all supported me, even lending me their own cars. I raced in very modest cars. The good lap times and victories snatched from much more powerful cars allowed me to be noticed by the industry. With patience and perseverance, I launched my career. Over the years, I successfully drove legendary cars like the Renault 5 Turbo, the Lancia Delta Integrale, and the 205 Turbo 16. I can honestly say today that regardless of the horsepower under the hood or the level of competition, during the race, I became one of the heroes of my childhood.

In 2018, thirty years after my victory in the Monte Carlo Rally, as if to thumb my nose at the fleeting nature of time, I participated in the historic version of the rally with my son. You can easily guess which vehicle we chose: that little 400cc moped, a miniature of which I already had in my pocket at the age of 10! What a thrill to hear the Marseillaise played again, celebrating our achievement and proving once more that, with enough willpower, any dream can come true.

Bruno Saby for MyLittleRedCar

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