1-in-31 1966 Ford GT40 MkI Aims for Millions Next January, Has All the Bells and Whistles

The Automotive Manufacturers Association grew from a 1903 governing body of the then-newly-born automotive industry. Called the Association of Licensed Automobile Manufacturers (ALAM), all carmakers welcomed it, save for Henry Ford. The genius didn’t agree with the details about the patents. It took the Blue Oval over half a century to finally bury the hatchet and march with the rest.

That happened in 1956, and one year later, the chorus of Detroit’s Big and Small sang the swan song for the advertising paradigm that emphasized performance above other characteristics of an automobile. Carmakers agreed to leave the ‘Win on Sunday, sell on Monday’ failproof recipe.

But agreeing on something and committing to it are two independent notions, and no carmaker is in business to shovel bricks of cubic dollars down the chimney. They all want to sell big, sell fast, and sell for good profit. By 1962, Henry Ford –who joined AMA, not FoMoCo's patent-wary founder, decided he had had enough of the nonsense and unilaterally backed away from the agreement.

The Ford mutiny against AMA happened in June; coincidence or not, the following spring saw Ford making overtures across the Atlantic to a financially troubled Enzo Ferrari. The arrogant Italian refused to let go of his control over the company's racing division, and the deal went bust. Whether Ford walked out of the AMA resolution because he had a plan to buy the Prancing Horse and needed its racing aura to shine on the sales or was a cosmic coincidence is not the primary focus of this story.

Suffice it to say that an angered Italian slapped Ford silly and sold to FIAT, leaving a bittered Henry II murmuring plans of vengeance, cost no object. Ferrari was a well-established name in the racing enterprise, and Ford didn’t have the firepower to wage war. It had to build it from the ground up.

It took the best engineers, pilots, racers, designers, and technology to create a battle plan – and the car to carry it out. The idea was to make the Italians look at the Le Mans podium and see the Ford nameplate on the highest step. After numerous trial and error sessions, the GT40 was ready. Tested in 1964 at the 24-hour race in France, the GT40 Mk I gave Ford high hope for the 1965 season, especially after enrolling Carroll Shelby to lead the offensive.

However, things didn’t turn out in Dearborn’s favor, and Henry Ford II wasn’t a man of great patience. The GT40 program kicked up in high gear, and the rest is history – Ferrari took the overall crown in 1965 and then again in 2023. Ford had his fair share of vengeance, putting the Italian marque off the Le Mans in the spotlight for 67 years.

It all started with one automobile – the Ford GT40, which was developed especially to make deli meats out of the pompous equine from Maranello. In the 60s, the game's rules were fairly simple: if a maker wanted to put a car on the grid at Le Mans, it would have to build 25 road-going versions of the racer.

Ford built 31 road-legal GT40s in 1966 – now known as Mk I – and put the famed 289-cubic-inch V8 (4.7-liter) that also powered the Mustang and the small-block Shelby Cobras. Riding on the shoulders of the Le Mans consecutive successes of 1966 through 1969, the first-generation Ford GT40 is now a highly collectible piece of motoring history.

With prices hanging well into the seven-figure territory, a GT40 MkI (or any version of the first generation, for that matter) is a rare sight. Seeing one on the street is less probable than eye-witnessing Bigfoot breaking in a unicorn. However, there’s a chance – one of the original 31 homologation units built as a 1966 model is going against the gavel in January at the Kissimmee 2024 auction.

The car comes from a three-decade single-owner custody (but no mention of when this long-term relationship began or ended) and sports the original 289 V8 and its quad twin carburetors. With the help of the four two-barrels, the 335-hp (340 PS) motor sends 330 lb-ft (447 Nm) to the transaxle five-speed manual box with ‘go-fast’ written all over it.

I’m not making things up; Ford themselves bragged about that in a brochure (see it in the gallery). The GT40 MkI was ticket-worthy in first gear at 58 mph (93 kph). In fifth, the gnarly Ford topped at 164 mph (264 kph). The official literature doesn’t say it, but the terminal velocity was probably achieved with the 4.22 rear axle gearing ratio. A 3.33 setup was optional for the hypothetical prospects who’d base their choice of a GT40 MkI with fuel economy in mind.

Whatever the rationale behind a purchase decision, Ford invited customers for a personal fitting of their 1966 GT40 to ensure they were a match. At 40 inches overall height, the GT40 wasn’t exactly the epitome of occupant accommodation. It might have been a road-going car but had raceblood flowing through its fiber.

The passenger, for example, had a partially-obstructed view of the speedometer. The miles-per-hour gauge was placed far outside the driver’s field of view, to the right of the dashboard, but it was oriented toward the helmsman. The GT40 MkI came with right-hand drive, and the steering wheel sat in front of an airplane-like instrument panel. The essentials - the RPM meter and the water and oil gauges - sat directly in the driver’s line of sight.

The example auctioned in a little over a month from now has 13,442 original miles (21,628 km) on the clock, an accident- and damage-free record, and factory-installed competition options. The accompanying literature documents the restoration performed by RUF Automobiles.

While the fabled car's complete history is confidential, we learn that one of the previous owners of this GT40 MkI was Umberto Maglioli. An Italian racing driver who ran the 24 hours of Le Mans in 1965 in one of the first-generation GT40 race cars, Maglioli was a fan of the Ford model, having owned and raced several examples throughout his career.