When punk ruled, a song called “Is Vic there?” had its 15 minutes. 30 years later in Monte Carlo, it’s bubbled back into my consciousness as crowds pressing around an orange 911 confirm the presence of Porsche racer and rally ace “Quick Vic” Elford. He’s traveled from his home in Florida to celebrate — along with champion co-driver David Stone — the 40th anniversary of his victory at the Rallye Monte Carlo in a 911.

When I heard Vic was in, I called to see if I could follow his journey along the Monte 40 years after his big win there. Of course, he said, and, in return, was there a possibility I could look after “the girls” —his wife Anita and David Stone’s partner, Babbie? No problem! Up ’til then, my plan had been to follow the rally from Reims in my 964. But, because packing three adults into a 911 of any type for a long haul is a bad idea, Porsche Great Britain supplied a Cayenne Turbo fitted with the winter tires now mandatory in continental Europe.

Vic and David started from Monaco, where the rally warmed up on Provencal mountain passes. Coming from England, we steamed to Reims via the Channel Tunnel. As night falls, we check out the 56 starters lined in echelon on the cobbled streets, shiny from recent rain. From 8:00 PM, contenders drive onto the starting ramp to be flagged off at three-minute intervals for their journey south. Night stages en route mean they’ll be up 24 hours until reaching Valence, 300 miles away. All the other starters have converged here, and it’s our prearranged rendezvous with Vic and David. When we find them, we learn they have already had their first hard day’s night.

“On the way back down to Monaco, we picked up Jean-Pierre (Nicolas) and ran with him for maybe 100 kilometers flat out, watching each other in the mirrors and passing and re-passing!” exclaims Vic. “We didn’t need to go that fast, but it was fun. We must have overtaken 30 other competitors!” Unfailingly courteous, if dictatorial when in action, Vic goes into great detail about the most exciting stages and best vantage points along the way. Trouble is, he and David were distinctly unimpressed by the regularity rules that the historic Monte hinges on.

“Got no time for bloody regularities,” says Vic. “There are no tactics — we just drive. We’re here to have fun.” Like a pair of outlaws, they’re making a point of going as quickly as possible, sometimes starting ahead of the appointed departure time. It’s clear they’re having a ball, but it’s also clear Vic has discovered a big difference between the long-wheelbase, 2.2-liter 911E he’s driving and the short-wheelbase 2.0 he competed in 40 years ago —and it has nothing to do with wheelbase or displacement.
“The main difference is that this car doesn’t have a limited-slip differential,” he says. “That makes it really difficult to drive on snow. Back then, I could slide sideways, start backing it into a corner, and, when I was ready, put my foot in it. And, hopefully, the wheels would be gripping and we’d move forward again. But if I put my foot down in this car, one wheel spins. So it doesn’t do anything, it just slides off into a snow bank. Rear-wheel-drive cars are lost on snow, and you can’t drive on ice without a limited-slip.” His words will prove to be prophetic…