Dream Drive: London to Maranello and Back

Most of us can pinpoint the exact moment in our lives when we realized that gasoline rather than blood courses through our veins. For me, it was Saturday morning, 20 June 1965. As an 11-year-old aspiring car buff, I watched a grainy, flickering, black-and-white image coming from Le Mans. It was my idol Phil Hill sprinting across the tarmac and into his seven-liter Ford GT Mark II...