A year later found Ford at the pinnacle of the motorsport world, having vanquished Ferrari at Le Mans, Total Performance personified. Thirty-nine years after Ford's historic triumph, I would have the chance to drive a Ford GT and a Dodge Viper from London to Maranello and back, fulfilling a childhood dream to drive a Ford GT at Le Mans. On the following pages, I look back one final time at the greatest week of my life.

Day 1: London to Folkestone

I felt a bit odd pulling into Ford's press fleet garage in a Dodge Viper. Inside, we were met by Ford's cordial press fleet manager Paul Wilson, who gave us a complete briefing on all the do's and don'ts of driving Ford's everyday super car.

After completing the formalities of transferring the car to our care (it dawned on me that I was now personally responsible for some quarter of a million dollars worth of American iron), I let my friend Matt Malone take the first turn in the Ford GT. I had a practical reason for doing so: Matt had already driven the GT extensively in the United States (a close friend had taken delivery of an early unit), and I must admit to being just a bit intimidated by the thought of navigating Tuesday morning traffic in London in a car with such a huge blind spot. My time behind the wheel of the Ford GT would be delayed another hour or so.

Our first stop was some 30 minutes away where we had arranged to visit the first of five vintage GT40s along our route. It was chassis 112, the last prototype Ford GT built. All Ford GTs that followed were dubbed GT40s and were considered "production" versions. We found it stored in the owner's barn, engine and transmission removed. Sitting somewhat forlornly among his vast collection of automobilia, it awaited the day when all components would be reunited and the car returned to its former glory.

Next stop was the National Motor Museum at Beaulieu, where we met Trevor Legate, author of Ford GT40: Production & Racing History Individual Chassis Record. He had arranged with the staff to have our Ford GT pulled inside where we could park it next to the museum's own GT40, a MK III road car, chassis number 1103. The museum was packed with school children, so Matt and I gave out several rides around the grounds.

Before leaving British soil, we took an unplanned detour that night to the Ace Cafe, a popular stomping ground for England's petrol-head community. It was sports car night, so the Viper and GT were ushered right to prime spots.

We felt like rock stars, but there was a twist. It seems that England's most prominent celebrity motoring journalist had just returned his personal GT to Ford in a snit, complaining of--among other things --poor fuel mileage and a malfunctioning alarm. Before the week was out, we could safely say that if we had a dollar for every time we were asked if our Ford GT once belonged to Jeremy Clarkson, we would have had almost enough to buy one ourselves. (Our own Ford GT, a well-worn example that had seen extensive abuse from Europe's journalistic community during the previous year, performed flawlessly.)