A crashed Morris Minor supplied the torsion bars and rack-and-pinion steering. At the back, a Studebaker live axle on leaf springs used a locked ring and pinion to ensure all power went directly to the pavement.

One of the few uses of “modern material” was the alloy sheet-covered honeycomb panels used for the firewall and flooring. They functioned as lightweight barriers for heat while adding strength thanks to the webbing found between the tubes.

Power Under the Curve

Max’s Buick engines were the result of constant experimentation and tuning. His most intriguing tuning component was a hand-fabricated log manifold fitted with six Stromberg 97 carburetors, although a later, simpler iteration used just four and then even later reverted to six.

Max, as a result of the influence of his motorcycle racing friends, was always careful to keep port mixtures as close to identical as possible. Ed Winfield, a personal friend of Max’s, used the Balchowsky Buicks as test engines for a continuing supply of custom camshafts.

The 401-cubic-inch Buicks delivered an unsurprising 350 horsepower, but as Max used to point out, it wasn’t peak power that won races; it was the amount of “power under the curve,” referring to the broad torque curve that gave his Buicks such flexibility on track.

A set of tubular headers that exited under the fenders kept the heat out of the engine compartment and cockpit. A simple locking pin held the straight pipes in place.

A four-speed Jaguar transmission could have been a weak link with the torquey Buick, but Max was always careful to select drivers who used a relaxed hand when shifting. Disc brakes were still a rarity in those early days, so again Balchowsky reverted to Buick as a source for stopping power.

Alloy Buick drums with plain 16-inch steel wheels at all four corners were in obvious contrast with the light alloy Borrani wire wheels run on much of the competition, but it didn’t seem to matter. Max certainly understood the value of less unsprung and inertial weight, but until that was really needed, cost was still a priority.

Riding With Max

What was remarkable about Old Yeller II was just how friendly it was to drive on the street. I remember driving it out to the races at Santa Barbara one weekend.

Clutch engagement was so smooth that it was remarkably easy to drive in crowded traffic. The reason was simple: Instead of the solid clutch disc fitted with metallic lining favored by many in racing in order to save a few hundredths of a second, Max used a stock, sprung center hub with specially bonded linings.

The sprung hub, he explained, absorbed the shock of differing rpm when shifting and eased the load on the Jag trans. It was always a pleasure to ride with Max, as his smoothness seemed in complete contrast with the car’s rough-hewn exterior. When shifting, he’d use his fingertips to select each gear and precise heel-and-toe double-clutching to match the revs.

After I’d worked for Max for a while and began to understand what an impressive piece of equipment he had, I offered to design a new body for the car. I’d been working at GM Styling prior to moving back to California to start my own racing career and felt that his chassis deserved something more elegant.

He just laughed and pointed out that on the short tracks we ran for club racing in those days–about 2.5 miles per lap average–aero efficiency hardly mattered. “It’s power to weight that counts,” he said.

“Besides, a new body would cost more than a thousand bucks,” he continued. Ina, who had actually drawn up the chassis on graph paper in their office, once showed me the receipts for building Old Yeller II. Sitting at the starting line when it was first finished, it had cost about $1600. There were, of course, many long nights invested as well, but even with those hours included the tally was easily a quarter of what it cost to field a top Ferrari or Maserati.

Keeper of the Flame

Old Yeller is still racing today in events all over the world. Ernie Nagamatsu is the owner, driver and present custodian of this piece of history, and in recent years he and his wife, Elaine, have brought the car to several prestigious vintage events in Europe, Australia, New Zealand and, yes, Monterey. It has been invited to Goodwood 11 times as well.

Ernie loves driving the car and respects its heritage. He says the “value added” to living with and racing Old Yeller II is the many hours he spent with Max Balchowsky, getting to know the man and how he thought. “It’s fast, fun, very reliable and thanks to Max it’s the least expensive race car to maintain I’ve ever owned,” he reports.

“I’m simply this era’s guardian of history,” he continues. “Old Yeller will probably last forever. The Latin phrase custodia flammae best describes me, as I am the keeper of the flame.”

“He’d earnestly explain to the gullible that the gas station in front of his shop had a sale on whitewalls.”

“The tube–frame chassis was fabricated over chalk lines drawn on the shop’s concrete floor.”

“I offered to design a new body for the car. Max just laughed.”