Portraits: Jonathan Bushell

Racing drivers Rick Morris and Stuart Kestenbaum and team owner-cum-chief engineer Don Hardman are three of the most experienced guys you’ll ever find in a national racing paddock. They share a passion for Formula Ford 1600 that goes back decades, and they’re still as active as ever and loving their racing at a time of life when some of their contemporaries are reaching for the pipe and slippers.

Don’t underestimate this trio or think that this is motor racing’s equivalent of Last of the Summer Wine. Morris and Kestenbaum continue to be serious and committed racers, and Hardman knows more about engineering a quick Formula Ford than most people ever will.

Morris is the most experienced of the trio and can trace a career in Formula Ford back more than half a century. Though he was a relatively late starter, Morris was soon mixing it with the very best. And in those days, the very best meant Ayrton Senna, Nigel Mansell, Derek Warwick and more. He was a works driver in the 1970s and scored countless victories, including a famous one that he’ll never forget when he beat a young Senna at Silverstone by leaping the chicane at Woodcote on the last lap. It was a lesson that Senna, then known as Ayrton Senna da Silva, never forgot as guile and cunning outfoxed unbelievable raw ability.

Kestenbaum has been racing in Formula Ford since the 1980s and in his formative years was team-mate to Swiss ace Alain Menu. Kestenbaum has had his cars run and maintained by Hardman ever since 1989, making it one of the longest-running team-driver partnerships in national racing.

Hardman, the kingpin and focal point of the whole adventure, has Formula Ford in his veins and was a successful FF racer in his own right in the 1970s and early ’80s, before realising that running a team would at least stop him spending money on his own racing.

Don Hardman Racing has been at the heart of single-seater racing since then, but now he’s pretty much gone full circle and is back in his beloved Formula Ford 1600 looking after his two mates.

Though retirement is always an option, Hardman is still a determined racer and loves nothing better than winning, just like his two drivers. Off the track, the banter and mickey-taking is legendary, but that belies a ferociously determined approach.

These days, their focus is the Classic Formula Ford 1600 Championship, which is for cars built and raced up to 1981 and very much the era when Morris, in particular, made his name as one of Britain’s best Formula Ford drivers.

As a tribute to his racing heritage, Morris races a Royale RP29 just like he did in period, while Kestenbaum favours a Van Diemen RF81. Within the competitive Classic championship, they are front runners and Morris, in particular, is a podium contender every time he goes out.

Morris turned 78 in January and reckons he’ll carry on as long as he is competitive.

“It’s a love-hate relationship,” he says about racing. “About an hour before a race, I’ve always hated it and always wanted to stop, but I’ve been involved with it so long. Plus, if you’re reasonably successful at something, you don’t want to give it up. I’ll just see how it goes and see how the health hangs out. I work hard as I train and cycle an awful lot and keep my weight down. Keep the old man out is my philosophy. And of course, the incentive of having to get in a racing car is all part of the whole package. Plus, I’m not one for sitting around. I tend to do everything in life at about 100mph.”

“The devil invented wings and slicks. For me, it ruins the driver’s ability to make a difference”

Kestenbaum, who was 76 in January and is marginally the youngest of the trio, is just as competitive an individual but accepts that 2024 didn’t bring the results he really wanted. “I don’t like not winning. Unlikely though it might seem that I might win at the moment, if I didn’t think that I had any kind of a chance, I just couldn’t do it. Why would you go into a race if you don’t want to win?

“I have no lesser will to win,” adds Kestenbaum.” I may not have the physical capability or mental capability so much any longer, but if you don’t feel as though you want to get in the car and race, what is the point? I always thought that if I wasn’t right at the front, I wouldn’t want to do it any more. But it turns out I like competing. There’s a limit to that and I’m not going to tool around at the back.”

Hardman, who turned 76 late last year, shares that undimmed desire to win. “We want to win. Absolutely, yes, I do want to still win. I get hacked off occasionally when they come in fifth. They sort of look at me a little bit sheepish and then go quiet on me. My body is beginning to cry out a little bit, but I’m sure we can manage one more year!”

From a perspective of experience, Morris looks back on his prime career in Formula Ford. “When I was 28 or 30 or whatever, racing against Senna and co, I didn’t realise that I was actually quite good. Even though I got works drives at PRS and Hawke and latterly Royale, I never really considered myself to be brilliant. Half the time in those days you were racing against people like Derek Warwick and Senna, and we didn’t realise how good they were.

“You can make it understeer. You can make it oversteer. You adjust it to your style”

“So I’d beat Derek Warwick one day, for example, and then he’d beat me and the rest of it,” says Morris. “But as you get older, you look back and you think, ‘Well, you know, four consecutive podiums at the Festival: I’m not too bad at this.’”

Kestenbaum’s love affair with Formula Ford has endured for nearly 40 years. “It’s a proper precision instrument,” he says. “You can do exactly what you want with it. You can make it understeer. You can make it oversteer. You adjust it to your style. And it’s probably the cheapest and most effective form of pure racing. I learned from Chris Smith, who ran me initially at Christal Racing, and he was an ex-F1 mechanic. He didn’t take many prisoners. I remember once I’d qualified badly for a Winter Series race, and I came in and he said, ‘All right, what was it? Engine or tyres?’”

Like many race engineers and team bosses, Hardman is a huge advocate of Formula Ford racing. “If people can race a Formula Ford and win, they can race anything and win. It is the best motor racing. It is the best training ground anybody can ever have. Everybody should do one season: it should be compulsory!”

Morris chimes in: “As I’ve often said, the devil invented wings and slicks. That ruins racing. For me, it ruins the driver’s ability to make a difference. If you go to Thruxton and you’re in a Formula Ford 2000 race or a sports car race, the downforce dominates everything and you can catch up all you like under braking. You’re not going to get a tow down the straight. It just goes on for 15 laps or whatever, and that’s it. Whereas in a 1600 the driver can make a difference.”

Though the competition and buzz of Formula Ford racing remains the prime motivation, there is no doubt that the bond of friendship and camaraderie runs deep in their collective determination to carry on.

Hardman: “We do want to win, but we have a lot of fun at the same time. We normally go down the day before a race meeting and spend an evening in a hotel together and have a meal and a beer or two. I’ve known this pair for years.”

Morris says: “Don and Stuart and I have known each other for ages and ages. We kind of respect each other and take the piss out of each other continually, which is great. That’s how we all like to be. We really appreciate what Don does for us and we enjoy the atmosphere of being there with Don. Stuart and I are very simple, similar people. The main thing, of course, is I don’t have to talk much when Stuart’s around.”

Kestenbaum concurs: “We have a fantastic time. Rick is hilarious. Don and I have been together since 1989 and for a team owner and customer, that’s pretty unlikely. We get on socially and it’s not just a business relationship. We’re very good friends.”