Lingering echoes of speed, racing legends and “The King” himself in the mountains above Malibu.
By Jeff Buchanan / Special to The Malibu Times
Accelerating hard coming out of the sweeping right hand corner the driver fell victim to the hidden demon of Turn 3. The car unexpectedly lost traction and was thrust into a series of out-of-control fishtails, clipping the cement pillar of the circuit’s overpass and flipping, ejecting the driver. It was the second fatality of a December weekend in 1957 and cast a gloom over Paramount Ranch Racetrack that never lifted.
Visitors to Paramount Ranch primarily come for the park’s storied past in movies. Most are unaware that the broken sections of asphalt that twist through the eucalyptus trees and around the old western town, often mistaken as an abandoned service road, was in fact an official racecourse with international prestige.
Today, it stands as a mere ghost of its former glory, the once smooth and gracefully banked pavement having suffered time under the elements. Weeds have sprouted, corrupting the broken ribbon of warped tarmac as nature, unhurried, gradually reclaims the remnants of a rich, albeit short-lived, racing history.
It was the 1950s and a thriving post-war America was in the throes of a newfound romance with the automobile. Feeding the infatuation, European style sports car racing crossed the pond and quickly came into vogue. Accommodating this new craze, a number of professional tracks sprang up across the country. Organized under the direction of The Sportsman Club, Paramount Racetrack took shape in December of 1955, earning it the distinction of being the first purpose-built sports car racing venue in California.
Designed by sports car racers Ken Miles and Dick Vanloren, the circuit layout was just shy of two miles in length and wove 11 corners through the undulating foothills of Agoura. The predominant design feature was a unique overpass/underpass that rendered a figure eight layout (the first of its kind west of the Rockies). It was this particular characteristic that helped earn the circuit its early notoriety and, later, contributed to its eventual demise.
Paramount Racetrack’s premiere event took place in 1956. A cadre of amateur and professional racers made the trek out to the then, remote reaches of the Valley, to take on the new circuit. The track’s tight layout quickly identified it as a “driver’s track,” where a good lap came down to more than just top speed and brute horsepower. It was said that if you raced well at Paramount, you raced well at other venues.
Cheering on the racers at that inaugural event was an enthusiastic crowd estimated at 2,000, each paying the $2.50 general admission (a program cost another 50 cents). Safety precautions for both spectators and drivers were extremely lax, with only a few guardrails to halt an errant racecar and virtually no fencing or banners between fans and the racing action.
The Paramount circuit hosted five major races during the next two years that saw some world-class drivers and several factory-level teams compete. In 1957 the events were drawing upward of 6,000 spectators, often congesting the narrow access roads in and out of the facility.
In 1957, Eric Seltzer was a young boy of 13 when his father, an avid hot rod fan and racing enthusiast, took him to Paramount Racetrack to see the sports car races. They drove all the way out from Tarzana along Ventura Boulevard (the Ventura Freeway hadn’t been built yet). Armed with his Kodak Brownie, Eric snapped the black and white photos accompanying this story.
Despite its popularity, Paramount Racetrack earned a reputation as dangerous and unforgiving. The most pressing concern among drivers was the high-speed, sweeping, downhill Turn 3 that led into the tunnel. The layout left precious little room for recovery if a driver got out of shape. Directly in line with the natural trajectory of the turn were the imposing cement columns supporting the overpass.
In 1957, after less then two years in operation with relatively few serious incidents, the inevitable odds of racing were brought to bear on the Paramount circuit. In the final race weekend of the season there were three bad crashes. On a Friday, a Corvette lost control going into Turn 1, hitting the guardrail and badly injuring the driver. The next day, a driver was killed when he lost control of his car in the same spot. The death sent a shockwave through the pits. The racers, predominantly amateurs just out for some good-spirited fun, were suddenly forced to contend with the very real dangers of racing.
The following day, Sunday, an up and coming driver by the name of Dan Gurney, behind the wheel of a Ferrari, was leading the second-to-last pro race of the day. At the moment Gurney was taking the checkered flag, another driver was cresting the rise of Turn 3. Seltzer was there that day and vividly remembers seeing the car lose control, the driver trying to correct as the car fishtailed several times before striking the cement column. The impact spun the car and as it emerged from the tunnel it flipped, ejecting the driver, who was killed instantly. Both the car and driver came to rest on the grassy hill overlooking Turn 4.
The events of that horrific weekend gravely impacted the circuit’s popularity. By then, other racetracks had been built in Riverside, Willow Springs and Pomona, usurping Paramount’s exclusivity, giving drivers and spectators more variety and creating competition between venues. After just two seasons of racing it was decided to close the facility.
Although the circuit never hosted another official race it did see its share of racing action. The return of tires to pavement came in the form of a slate of “B” films that were produced to capitalize on the burgeoning American car culture. The vast majority were exploitative pictures such as American International’s “Roadracers” (1959), “How to Stuff a Wild Bikini” (1965) and 1957’s “Devil’s Hairpin.”
Perhaps the most notable celluloid/automobile contribution was 1965’s “Spin Out,” starring Elvis Presley. Following that was 1966’s “Munster Go Home,” “The Love Bug” (1968) and its sequel, “Herbie Rides Again,” in 1974.
Today, unless you know what you’re looking for, the old race circuit is merely a shadow of its former self. The broken sections of asphalt are crisscrossed by well-used horse trails. The main access road into the park, a long, narrow stretch of pavement, was the circuit’s main straightaway where the cars hit their top speed before crossing the start/finish line. Ironically, the only thing marking the spot now is a 15 mph speed limit sign.
For more information on the history of the track, go to www.nps.gov/samo