The Charade circuit regains its original BP wall

The Agissons pour Charade group has repainted the wall at the Courbe de Manson, restoring the green and yellow colors of sponsor BP to the Auvergne circuit for the first time in nearly 51 years, since the last Formula 1 Grand Prix.

I witnessed a piece of history, a very special piece of history, that of Formula 1 and Moto GP. A small team of men erected me on the edge of a new road, in the heart of the Auvergne volcanoes. As I took shape, someone whispered to me that race cars would soon be roaring past me.

The first hands that brought me to life disappeared, replaced by others who transformed a simple block of stone and gray concrete into something striking. A new coat of bright white was applied, followed by touches of green and yellow and an original “BP” logo, that of the oil company that would sponsor several events here. Soon after, the words “MotoGP” and then “Formula 1” began to echo around me.

My purpose then became clear: to see, hear, and, above all, protect the speeding cars. The first race took place at the end of June 1965. When the cars passed by for the first time, I thought to myself, “What strange machines!” I had seen vehicles before, but none like these. Out of the corner of my right eye, I watched them speed by, roofless and strangely shaped, their drivers wearing barely finished helmets and goggles. These men were different. I remember a marshal waving a yellow flag and shouting, “They're crazy!” The wheels grazed my board, their Dunlop and Goodyear logos flashing. The crowd's admiration made me realize that the drivers had something special: an aura, raw talent, and a fearless willingness to face danger. At the time, I couldn't name the helmets, but a few months later, I learned that they belonged to legends: Jackie Stewart, Lorenzo Bandini, John Surtees, and Jim Clark. I felt a deep sadness when I learned that Clark, the Scotsman who had once pushed his Lotus to its limits without ever seeming to strain, had died the previous year at Hockenheim, missing his return to Charade in 1969.

The race cars, the single-seaters, continued to return until luck ran out for the circuit. Just as I had gotten to know my neighbor, driver Patrick Depailler, I was told, “They won't be coming back.” ” Formula 1 had disappeared, but the motorcycles remained. I witnessed the last triumphs of Giacomo Agostini in 1974, then his rival Phil Read. Then, on Sunday, April 21, the motorcycles also disappeared. No more rubber marks on the Manson curve, no more smell of gasoline. The road became silent, except for ordinary traffic. I found myself idle, retired, and bored, reminiscing about the glorious moments I had kept, even the cameras from John Frankenheimer's film Grand Prix, which I never got to see.

With nothing to do, the wait dragged on. The weather battered me—rain, wind, snow, frost—but I refused to give up. I stood tall, not wanting to disappoint the dormant volcano behind me, a giant that, according to legend, would be disastrous if it woke up. My bright colors from race day faded, then disappeared completely as nature reclaimed me. I became a simple wall along a country road, ignored by drivers, cyclists, and motorcyclists. Occasionally, I was awakened by the distant roar of engines, but the track layout had changed and no cars passed in front of me anymore. My long slumber finally came to an end in the summer of 2022, when the Manson corner was turned into a roundabout, houses sprung up like mushrooms, and the surrounding area became unrecognizable. A group of enthusiasts then stepped in, determined to restore me to my former glory. For several days, they repainted my original white, yellow, and green logo, cleared away the brambles and tall grass, and brought my surface back to life. They knew my history and the people I had met, and they managed to make me speak again. Today, locals and travelers alike can admire the wall and say, “What a beautiful wall! It's the old Charade circuit road.” “

For the few curious people who stop on the freshly cut grass and take a closer look, a Volvic stone plaque reads: “Witness to several Formula 1 and Grand Prix motorcycle races that took place from 1965 to 1974 on the most beautiful circuit in the world. ” These words, placed on my left cheekbone nearly 49 years after my last Grand Prix, brought tears to my eyes—a fitting recognition of a life lived on the edge of speed and history. Even though I am still unemployed, my mood has improved. I help elderly people remember their memories and share my story with younger people. The days now seem much shorter. So thank you to these men. For reference, you can see the volunteers from the Agissons pour Charade association working on the wall on Google Maps via Street View: https://www.google.fr/maps/@45.7480322,3.0246777,3a,75y,66.27h,68.45t/data=!3m6!1e1!3m4!1s-88CxDkZDrKWqrksGXW4zg!2e0!7i16384!8i8192.