River Forest Haven
Our alarm went off at 2:45am. Despite the stupid hour, we were up and showered in a flash, patiently waiting on our quiet street for an Uber to arrive. It was the calm before the storm. We flew out of Oakland on Spirit Airlines, which is the butt of every airline joke in America for the cheapness and low standards. Our flight left at 6am and we were in Vegas shortly after. A two hour leg later and we landed in Austin. We’d left rainy skies in California and were welcomed by bright, humid heat. At the luggage carousel, we got our first taste of the Formula 1 we came to see – a Red Bull parked inside the building.
Wanting to make our way into downtown Austin, we followed the crowd of mostly race fans towards the Uber pick-up point. As is the norm at airport rideshare locations, the place was a mess and our app was telling us we had along wait and a $60 fare to look forward to. We settled in for about five minutes before I thought there must surely be a bus that goes into the city? A quick Google confirmed that yes, a public bus runs between the airport and the city every 15 minutes for the total cost of $1.25. Idiots. We promptly cancelled our Uber (the bastards charged us $12 for doing that) and found a bus waiting for us. Even better, it was free for the month of October and there was hardly anyone on it. We resolved from then on to not be sheep!
We picked out landmarks from our last visit to Austin in 2019 for the last US grand prix as we drove and found that we mis-remembered the beauty of the city. There seemed to be way more litter and homeless about, even on the main thoroughfares. By the time we hit the city, it was mid-afternoon and breakfast had become a distant memory. We wandered the streets looking for a food offering and were easily distracted by the massive Ford exhibition taking up a couple of blocks. The main attraction was the new Bronco, they were driving people around in them on an obstacle course to show off its prowess and we were suitably impressed! Not enough to wait in line for a turn though.
At a burger place on 6th Ave, we filled ourselves with burgers and beers and with still a couple of hours to kill before we had to head to camp, we crossed the street to a rooftop bar I’d frequented before to have another drink and look out over the goings-on of Austin. There we met Connor and Alli who had come in from Washington state for their first race. Like us, she was the original fan and he the newcomer to the sport. We chatted back and forth about F1, shift work and mushrooms for a good couple of hours.
Now it was time to get to River Forest Haven. We walked down 6th street to a supermarket to get a few supplies (fruit for breakfast, water, beer) and ordered an Uber to take us to our “rooms”.
At the end of Man-O-War drive, our Uber driver bravely drove down the dirt road by the large camping sign and into the unknown. We encouraged him to stop at the first chance not knowing what we were getting him into. There wasn’t much evidence of a camping establishment so as we made to get out he asked if we were sure we wanted to be left there. Sure, what could go wrong? We waved goodbye and ventured further along the road into the forest. We soon came out to a clearing where we found the porta-potty and outdoor shower that had been advertised on the website. Definitely nothing fancy! With no sign of a check-in booth or signage, we continued meandering until we saw a big #1 sign on a tree that indicated our campsite. There wasn’t a person in sight – we were starting to wonder if maybe the place was closed? We cracked a couple of beers (while they were cold) and walked down to the river. When I’d booked, I noted that it was the Colorado River, which we’ve swum in many times with great memories. This was not “The” Colorado River, but a swampy, green, hardly-moving mass of water. We would not be swimming or taking part in the recommended tubing and kayaking activities.
We inspected the other campsites and I texted the campsite manager to see if we could occupy any free site since #1 didn’t have a picnic table. He replied quickly saying that no, we couldn’t, and we soon saw him drive down to us in his small utility vehicle. Apparently there were people that just arrive at site #8 that weren’t happy either. Long story short, the #8 boys inspected site #1 and they preferred it, so we switched. They were race fans too! Our host told us they’d had a big rain a week ago that had flooded the place and so they’d had to put a truckload of mulch down on top of the mud pit. Suited us fine, it was soft ground for us to lay our heads on. The Haven just getting better when our host said he had a fold-up plastic table we could use. Within a few minutes, our camp was set-up! I could have left the tent fly and the sleeping bags at home it was so hot, but the bug spray was essential.
While I sat and talked to Dad on the phone, I watched Dan nearly fall into the river as he slipped in the mud down at the bank. He confirmed it was not water he wanted to be touching.
Just as it was getting dark, our neighbours at site #9 showed up in a van. We said hi and determined they were race fans. Just as we were getting into our crackers and cheese for dinner, they invited us over for some Tequila. We spent the rest of the night drinking and talking with Oskar and Nana – not hard to do when they’d been travelling in a van for five months and were F1 fans!
Practice
Poor Dan didn’t start the day off well. He’d had a little too much tequila the night before and so woke up feeling very sick. While he was getting a few extra hours of sleep, I had the shower experience and was pleasantly surprised! The structure made from pallets and an old shower curtain provided ample room and the gas hot water system was too effective if anything! I walked back to camp feeling fresh.
I read my book while waiting for Dan to rise, which he eventually did around 9am when I roused him. Oskar and Nana had offered us a lift to the circuit last night and I was keen. Once he had a shower he was feeling better and a nap on Oskar and Nana’s bed on the way to the track went a long way towards his speedy recovery.
There was some traffic as we drove past various farm-style properties, most of which were offering some form or parking or camping at rates advertised on painted panels of plywood. A quick shuttle ride from Lot Q and we were at the Circuit of the Americas! We proudly displayed our wristbands at the main gate and were soon trackside. We said goodbye to Oskar and Nana who were keen to explore the track for the first time while we wasted no time sneaking into the main grandstand. There was an unmanned side entrance that we used to come and go and while Dan got kicked out while getting into the seating section after I made it in, we met up again on the upper level where we both found an entrance where the security guards didn’t give a shit.
There was a DJ blasting music at the front of the grandstand so the atmosphere was loud and lively. We hadn’t been there five minutes and we were already watching F1 teams do pitstop practices. The weekend of racing had begun!
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face for the whole first practice session. The cars were loud and I couldn’t stop commenting on how steep and brilliant Turn 1 looked! The session was short lived when Alonso brought out the red flag after half a lap when he stopped with all sorts of fluids dumping out of his car – not a great start for the Alpine team. The session quickly got going again and we were treated to many laps and pitstop practices up and down the pitlane.
No sooner had the session finished that the DJ started up again and I started to feel sorry for the paying ticketholders for these seats. After the noise of the F1 engines, the loud music didn’t give you a break. I could only imagine how Dan felt with his hangover!
Time to wander around now, we meandered out of the grandstand and walked backwards around the track towards turn 15. This is a part of a race weekend that I really enjoy – it’s a people watching show and wow the crowd was big. I heard they had 130,000 people there on a Friday which is amazing considering there is no racing action that day.
We looked at some of the official merchandise and, as I always do, balked at the prices and decided I wouldn’t be getting a Red Bull Checo shirt as I’d planned. I was a kid in a candy story when we got to the F1 Outlet store. Here is where you can find the merchandise of years gone by – like a Toro Rosso Daniil Kvyat shirt or a Ferrari Sebastian Vetterl cap. I braved the sweaty and packed tent to walk out with a couple shirts and Oskar found me in the queue, he was getting himself some much-desired Ferrari swag. Out of the cesspool, I found Nana and Dan outside. She’d enjoyed the first practice session having also snuck into the grandstand like a seasoned veteran. Unfortunately Oskar got stuck in the swag queue so we left them to it to find some food.
Yeah right! Us and 100,000 other people were looking for the same thing. Never keen for any queueing, we ventured back down to the main grandstand, snuck in once again and got a couple of hotdogs from the stands inside there which were less crowded. We still had plenty of time to wander some more before Free Practice 2 and so we walked up to our beloved Turn 1 for the first time. What a brilliant vantage point. At the grandstand, I was disappointed with what I saw. The prime seating that had been so easy to sneak into last time out had become a fortress. They had three security guards at each tunnel-entrance so there was no way for us to slip in. It would be the hill for us come race day!
By the time FP2 rolled around, we’d had more than enough sun and so we sought shade next to Turn 2 and set our chairs down. It was a pretty eventless session apart from the typical Mazespin spin and we were happy to have spent it in some shade.
The rest of the afternoon we spent walking around the track in its racing direction – another favourite for me. Yes we were tired, yes we were hot, but this was an essential part of the weekend! We lingered at Turn 12 – the hairpin on the backside of the circuit – this could be a potential watching spot for qualifying.
We were keen for an early night, so once we’d made our way back to the main entrance, we walked towards the shuttles to Lot Q. Our plan was to get to the servo next to the parking lot and order an Uber, hoping to avoid the chaos of COTA’s official rideshare pick-up location. When we saw the line for the shuttle, we walked straight past it and into the Exxon servo and got ourselves a dinner of microwave pizza and ice cream. By the time we walked out with our goods, the line was gone and so we hopped straight onto a bus and enjoyed our dinner on the traffic-slowed ride to Lot Q.
The sun was gong down by the time we got to the parking lot and I was still finishing my mini-tub of ice cream as we walked through the long grass by the road to the nearby Texaco (another servo). Once there, we tried Uber and Lyft. Both apps offered rides at over $80 which we were NOT interested in. The servo had some seating inside so Dan bought me a six-pack and I enjoyed a beer while we waited for the price to go down. We weren’t in a rush to get anywhere while we had air-conditioned comfort! While there, we met another race fan in a similar situation only he had a dying phone. I gave him my charger and we swapped stories as we constantly checked our apps. After about half an hour, I saw the Uber price drop from $120 to $25 and so I hit “request” quick smart! I already had a request open with Lyft and typically, when I had a confirmed Uber driver, I got a confirmation through Lyft as well! Bloody shenanigans, I cancelled the Lyft and while we left our mate stranded, at least his phone would hold out the rest of the night.
By the time we got back to camp, we were ready to hit the hay. Despite the muggy heat, we were both asleep within minutes of hitting our pillows.
Qualifying
We’d seen Oskar and Nana roll into camp just as we were closing our eyes and they hadn’t stirred from their van by the time we rolled out around 8:30am so we ordered a ride as we walked out of the haven and along Man-O-War drive. Our driver as twenty minutes away so I let him know he’d find us walking on the side of the road so we continued on our way down the country road. Each house sat on a large lot and at every other gate we passed, we were stared down by a guard dog. These weren’t like the barking guard dogs in our neighbourhood though, instead they were silent and intimidating. It was a lovely morning walk.
In the Uber, we didn’t see much traffic before being dropped off at the COTA rideshare spot. It was familiar from two years before and we enjoyed yet another walk with other race fans, declining the offer of a ride on an electric trike. At the entrance gate, we were presented with THOUSANDS of race-goers, all waiting for the chance to show their wristbands/tickets to get into the circuit (gates had opened only ten minutes before). Not keen for any queueing with the sheep, I saw a flag for a shuttle and so we made our way over to it, happy to be met with an empty shuttle. We jumped on and were taken down to the gate at the main grandstand. This gate was just as mental as the one we’d just come from and so we hopped onto the outer loop shuttle – a truck towing a couple of open-air trolleys with seating. We were only joined by a few other people and felt like absolute royalty as we drove around the outside of the circuit in a backwards direction. We flew past traffic, important people in their black Escalades and plebs waiting to get in for their race fix.
At the turn 11 gate, we disembarked to a deserted gate and waltzed straight in. They didn’t even check our bag so I needn’t have bothered to hide the contraband we had (beers, water, snacks). We’d barely made it to Turn 9 when the Formula 4 cars started their qualifying session and so we parked up on the hill, applied sunscreen and had a snack-style breakfast.
The crowds were properly in force by the time we started wandering towards Turn 1 for Free Practice 3. We were behind the grandstands at Turn 4 when we heard the roar of a V8 tearing around the track. I heard the name “Ricciardo” over the loud speakers and broke into a jog to get around the stand and find a screen. There was our man, smiling through an open-faced helmet, flogging Dale Earnhardt’s Nascar car from the 80s – a collectible owned by Zac Brown. It was interesting to hear him power it down the main straight, then get back on the power after Turn 1, only to back off completely before he went through the Turn 4 esses so it could rock like a boat through the tight turns. While we couldn’t see the doughnuts he did at Turn 1, we certainly heard them!
Turn 1 was not an option for FP3, it was already stacked and so we wandered back down to the main grandstand to try our hack from yesterday. They’d wised up to the side entrance and so we meandered along the grandstand looking for a way in. There were seatbelt barricades across every entrance and three people manning each one checking tickets. It wasn’t looking good.
Not to be dissuaded, I’d spotted a vulnerability where a seatbelt barricade didn’t quite reach a rubbish bin – there was a human-sized gap between them. As we approached, the ticket attendants had their backs turned. I looked over my shoulder and said to Dan, “Do you wanna go?” and didn’t even hear his answer – I ducked into the gap and didn’t look back. When I was well into the grandstand I looked behind to see my man right there. Yes!
We took up some seats on the lower section across from the Aston Martin, ticked pink at our vantage point. FP3 was only minutes away! Dan ventured out to the food section to get a cup of ice so he could chill his beers but I didn’t move, I was too scared to lose our position. After FP3 was done, we had every intention of leaving the stands and venturing over to the Turn 11 hairpin for qualifying, but we could see the crowd up on the Turn 1 hill and Dan suggested we stay exactly where we were. Yes, good call.
A Formula 4 race kept us entertained over lunch. We picked out the best looking car and rooted for him – that gave us something to get excited about – he managed to make a few places. As the 4pm qualifying session neared, the DJ got the crowd amped up and the track entertainment team were mulling through the stands talking to fans and doing giveaways. It was around this time that Dan realized we were seats away from fame. Andrew Short, a motocross rider that Dan had watched growing up, was seated with his son watching the action. His attention waned from that moment on, he was so excited to see a childhood hero! I gave him shit, saying I’d call out his name, but he shushed me, we shouldn’t bother Shorty! He settled with him being in each of the photos/videos he took looking up the main straight. Nerd.
Before we knew it, cars were lining up in the pitlane. This is always an exciting time at a race weekend – it’s the first session you see the guys going full tilt. Q1 was predictable and being across from his garage, it was fun to laugh at Stroll who got himself knocked out. Q2 made me lose hope that Checo would have a good weekend. He did his usual – stuffing up his banker lap and scrubbing a set of tyres for no reason – looked like he’d be well behind his team mate again. Ricciardo wasn’t doing great either, but all our favourites got to Q3.
Now came the highlight of my race weekend. In the final qualifying session, everyone goes out for a quick lap at the start of the session, then they do it again towards the end. Two timed laps. For the first round, Lewis was out on track first, followed by Max, then Checo. Since our position in the grandstand was just past the finish line, the drivers came past us just as their times showed up on the screen. When Lewis went fastest, the crowd cheered. When Max came next, the crowd cheered louder. When Checo went fastest again, the crowd erupted – everyone (including us) was on their feet, drinks went flying, fists were raised. CHECO! CHECO! CHECO! Everyone kept jumping around as Checo started his slow down lap and I got my hands around Dan as we continued jumping. CHECO!!!! This is what we’d come here for – to see this man fly in a Red Bull.
Max and Lewis got in front of Checo in the second set of laps and the grid was set, but he’d been fastest for five minutes and the crowd had relished the moment. As the last cars crossed the line at the end of the session, the crowd was on their feet again in appreciation and Dan turned to me tugging at my elbow. “Let’s go!” I barely managed to ask where when he started jogging down the grandstand towards the finish line. Of course, the fastest three cars would be parking up on the main straight!
There was hardly a crowd by the time we got there to see Lewis, Max and Checo get out of their cars and raise a thumbs up to the crowd. We joined in the “Checo” chants as he got out of his car and continued them throughout the driver interviews. We’d never been so close to our ultimate sportsmen.
We hardly knew what to do next. What a moment!
I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face as we left the grandstand. Outside, the lines for Red Bull swag were deep while the Mercedes vendors looked bored. I took the opportunity to buy a plethora of COTA swag for my mates, lucking out with the last t-shirt in one style and satisfied that all my shopping was done.
Going against the crowd, we wandered up to Turn 1. We stayed a while at the tunnel road that was lined with fans hoping to get a glimpse of drivers as the left the track. That only lasted about 5 minutes until we got bored and carried on up the hill. This was our chance to properly suss out where exactly we wanted to be for race day. I was taken back to my Melbourne GP days of spot-picking: ensure sufficient hill gradient for visibility over other race fans, line up with the closest speaker for maximum commentary volume and critically, make sure the view of the track TV was not impeded by any fencing structure. We chose our spot and picked some landmarks so we could easily identify it should we be overcome by excitement the next day. Dan made sure I had a clear vision in my head since I would be the runner and he the packhorse.
Halfway down the hill looking down into the vehicular and human traffic, we realized we weren’t ready to go back to camp yet. Seeing a group of people sat on the backside of the Turn 1 hill, Dan suggested we do the same thing and so we pulled up on a patch of grass. A few minutes later, Dad called and though he hadn’t watched any of the F1 action, he wanted to know everything. Despite the poor service we’d been experiencing at the track over the weekend, we managed to have a video call so I could show him exactly where we were.
We must have stayed up there for at least an hour, watching the sun set over COTA. It was beautiful.
But our day wasn’t over yet! Back down at the main entrance, I needed the bathroom so I dipped back into the main grandstand (no sneaking required). When I came out, I found Dan waiting at one of the seating entrances. There right in front of us were the F1 garages, with cars being worked on. While some teams (Alpine, Alfa Romeo, Aston Martin) had gone home, McLaren were running Ricciardo’s engine and Mercedes were bustling about their cars. As we wandered up and down the pit lane, we saw people jogging the track and some of the McLaren boys throwing an American football. Amazing that all of this was open for us to see!
There were about five other people in the grandstand with us and we managed to get a photo thanks to one of them, but otherwise, we just watched in awe, a side of F1 you never normally get to see. 8pm must have been a time of significance because this is when Mercedes and Ferrari closed their garages. McLaren continued working away so maybe they were breaking curfew?
As the Billy Joel concert started, we left the circuit. At the Lot Q shuttle stop, we were surprised to find a line, considering it was past 8pm and the concert crowd hadn’t showed up yet. Not phased, we walked straight past the line and got ourselves a proper dinner. Beats me why we’d walked past the BBQ joint attached to the servo yesterday, but these guys put on some brilliant food. By the time we were finished, the line had dissipated and so we hopped onto a bus then walked to the Texaco like we’d done last night. Dan had an Uber booked before we even reached the front door and we had only a ten minute wait – a much better showing than the night before. While we got stuck in some traffic, we were happily at camp by about 9pm.
We found Oskar and Nana having a drink at camp so we caught up with them before bed. They were loving their first F1 experience despite a bout of heat stroke yesterday. They weren’t keen on our early morning plans so we wished them a happy race day and retired to camp. I couldn’t go to be before trying out my latest swag – a $25 Alonso shirt!
Race Day
When my alarm went off at 5am, I rolled over and asked Dan how he felt. “I’m with you baby, whatever you want to do.” And so, we were up and in the shower, ready for an Uber by 5:30am. We only made it half a mile down our country road before we saw headlights indicating our ride. Our driver, Andres, was the legend of our weekend. I’d set our drop-off location to be the servo at the main gate, but since it’s close to COTA, the Uber app automatically re-routes the driver to the COTA rideshare location. Andres spoke little English, but he understood when we told him to ignore the app’s directions and carry on driving right past the track to the main entrance. Dan directed him in broken Spanish and he dropped us right at the door.
We were at the gate at 6:30am and there were only a couple of groups there, about twenty people. Wow! I was worried we’d left it too late, but we’d nailed it! We parked up in our chairs right at an entry gate. This was Dan’s first experience getting up super early to line up for something and so far it was going pretty well! With our spot staked out, Dan went back to the servo to get us some BBQ breakfast. I spoke to Dad while he was gone (it was his evening) and he was proud of our efforts.
Dan was back around 7am with a piping hot breakfast burrito for me and a plate of meaty eggs for him. The crowd was about 200 strong now and we got about 200 looks of disbelief as we chowed into our delicious breakfast. Over the next hour, we enjoyed the light misting that came thanks to the morning fog, watched the line grow out of our sight and eyed all the track workers waltzing through the entry gate without an ounce of security. Next year, we’ll wear black slacks and black dress shirts and be right inside no questions asked!
Gates were set to open all over the circuit at 8:30am. At 8am, the ticketing folk at our gate finished their pre-event meeting and gave out a yell to enthuse themselves and the queueing crowd interpreted this to mean gates were opening soon. We had no choice but to follow the suit of others packing up their chairs and edging towards the entry gates.
It was about now that Dan noticed a crowd of people gathering on the service road leading up to Turn 1. When he pulled out his map of the track, I was horrified to see that there is an entry gate at the top of the Turn 1 hill. Oh no! Those people would be on the hill before us! But then again, their gate can only admit a few people at a time whereas we had 8 entrance gates. The race was on!
The crowd was getting restless as 8:30am approached. There were cries to security to deal with line cutters and people kept watchful eyes on the Turn 1 hill we were all aiming for. I went for a nervous pee and shortly after I returned to my place in line, I saw that people were on the hill. About a hundred people were heading up the hill and setting out their chairs. I found out later that they’d gotten in through a broken fence which explained why it hadn’t been a constant flow of people, but a single burst. Well now the crowd got vocal. There were boos, chants of “let us in” and general unrest. There were people inside the circuit and we were still queueing!
It got really bad when 8:30am came and went without gates opening. Now we could see a steady stream of people entering at the Turn 1 gate and still we were going nowhere. It was all Dan and I could do to stay silent while the mob behind us got more vocal. The head honcho at our gate was taking her time giving her ticketing people instructions, being very self important. She even took the time to come over to us specifically and tell us quietly that she’d be opening our gate first since we’d been so well behaved. All well and good lady, but you should probably just open the bloody gates! At around 8:33am, she opened the VIP gate, but of course no one in that line was a VIP so then she spent time trying to explain to people that they needed to move into the next line. Finally, at 8:35am, she moved the gate out from in front of us and I was off. I had only a sheet in my hand and I held my wrist out for inspection of my wrist band as I half-jogged past ticketing and then through security. I didn’t look back. I knew Dan was behind me.
Past security, I broke into a run. I could see the crowd steadily growing on Turn 1 but I just focused on my breathing and the path ahead. I didn’t hear any chasing footsteps and when I reached the tunnel pedestrian crossing, the traffic controllers had just walked out to stop traffic and so I was through. Now the hill. The grass was wet and it was steep. I kept my strides short and looked up the hill as I ran, honing in on my landmarks. As I reached my spot, I did a quick double-check that I’d ticked all the boxes, then considered the people near me. They seemed cool and a guy with only a blanket showed up looking to set up just downhill from me. We both made our decisions at the same time, me placing my sheet, he his blanket. Dan was with me only a minute or two later and by the time we’d set up our chairs, we had found our hill family.
Louis and his son in front of us were camping for a party of 8, we had a group of three to our right as well as a big Asian group, then a French man behind us with his mother coming later. For the rest of the morning, we worked as a team to defend our space and in more than one instance, we had to work hard. Around 9:00am, a HUGE black lady plonked her chair down behind me and in front of the French guy, sitting herself down with her knees in my back. Shortly after declaring it a great spot, she asked if Dan could just scoot up a bit. We kindly explained that we’d been here very early to get our spots and our friend’s mother would be arriving shortly to take her seat which she was essentially occupying. She claimed that we must have jumped the fence to get here so early and at that I protested loudly. No one was going to take my hard-fought run away from me. Thankfully her equally huge husband wasn’t game and so she eventually caved to go find another spot. The attempts at space petered out around 9:15am. The hill was full! We’d done it, we were elated.
We were grateful for the morning fog. If we had a full morning of sun in front of us, we’d have been struggling. The fog even turned to rain enough to justify bringing the umbrellas out for a stint.
There was a women’s race where a championship was won and another Formula 4 race in which our guy in the best looking car unfortunately went backwards. The people around us asked who he was, thinking we were hard-core fans, but we just made them laugh when we told them it was just the paint job that got us excited. Most people weren’t interested in the track action, they were catching what rest they could after such an early morning start.
Around noon, everyone made their last moves before the race. Dan made it out to get a drink and have a pee and he said it was a mission, as did everyone else around us. The crowd was so tightly packed that it took everyone at least an hour to make the round trip. I’d decided early on that I wouldn’t be leaving the hill until post-race and so I drank only what I needed and relied on that huge breakfast burrito to keep me full.
When the driver’s came around on the parade truck, the cheers drowned out anything the drivers said but that didn’t matter. From our vantage point we could see Dani Ric in his cowboy boots and jeans, topped with a cowboy hat. We cheered along with everyone else. The race was getting close.
Then all of a sudden, the pit lane was open, cars were dong their sighting laps and men were jumping out of planes with huge American flags attached to them. When the anthem reached its crescendo, five huge army choppers flew over with people hanging out the sides and the back waving! If the crowd wasn’t amped up, we sure were now.
As the cars took their position on the grid and the team personnel backed away, I turned to Dan for a kiss. For some reason it felt like we’d achieved something and now I was saying “well done, we’ve made it, let’s have a good race!”
The crowd and us roared as the field sped up the hill towards us but that sooned turned into groaning as Hamilton got the better of Max around Turn 1. Bugger. There was plenty else to cheer for as the McLarens fought the Ferraris and Dani ended up in a good spot.
I won’t commentate the entire race, but it was a brilliant one. Turn 1 is the ONLY place to spectate. When the first round of pitstops occurred, we had the best view of Hamilton in the pitlane while Max careened around the back of the circuit. By the time he’d rounded the last corner, we all knew he’d come out in front of Hamilton – now we were happy to be here.
Our hearts were in our mouths when Max rounded Turn 1 at a snail’s pace with an engine that sounded like a box of loose bolts. Dan grabbed my arm fearing the worst, as we all did. Then one of our crowd mates pointed out the Virtual Safety Car board across the track. Everyone had slowed down and the Honda engine just sounds weird when it’s off-throttle.
On Lap 22 our TV screen went black, much to the displeasure of the crowd. We could see that all of the screens had died across the circuit. Completely in the dark, we followed as best we could until they came back on four laps later. When we rewatched the race later, turns out those four laps were the most eventful in terms of drama between Alonso and Giovinazzi.
When the timing tower in the pit lane read one lap to go and the TV screens told us it was the last, it was confirmed when we saw the Red Bull boys crossing the pit lane to celebrate their driver as he came across the line. We roared as Max triggered the pitlane fireworks and drove up the hill towards us with Lewis fucking Hamilton behind him. The biggest cheers were for Checo coming home in third.
Having just stood for two hours and considering we’d seen the top three up-close yesterday, we were in no rush to get onto the track and so we kept our position on the hill as we watched race fans pour onto the circuit at pit-level. Crazy thing was, there were still cars on the back half of the circuit. Some fences must have been broken down. There were soon people streaming onto the track from every which way, some ways not being legal. We sat and watched the chaos play out, sitting to rest our tired legs and feet. We watched and heard the podium interviews happening, sad to hear Checo’s hoarse voice – the result of not having any water for the entire race.
When we were ready, we upped our chairs, donned our brollis to shade us from the still-hot sun and took to the circuit. At the top of Turn 1, we saw a security guard at one of the unofficial track entry points (a broken down fence) lose to a team of three dudes who pushed their way past him to get by. Walking over to the Turn 2 entry point, we saw multiple damaged fences, chain link had been pulled up and posts had come down. The angry mob theme was definitely prevalent, we were happy to have avoided it.
Instead of heading down the main straight as we’d done our last visit, we strolled, very slowly, along the track’s direction, through the Turn 4 esses and towards Turn 12. The crowd was thin here and it was a nice vibe, you could hear DJs that had started their sets, trying to keep people on-circuit and spending money.
It was cool to see teh tarmac up close and walk over the kerbs that are so potentially damaging to an F1 car. We even found a spot out of esses that had what looked like titanium burns?
By the time we reached Turn 12, there were people on the track attempting to get people off of it, but they weren’t having much success. They were happy to see us leave but had to try their best to prevent another group coming back on. Five minutes later when we looked back, the controllers were gone, obviously giving up on their task.
Dan had the brilliant idea that we should jump onto the outer-loop shuttle at Turn 12 and so we made our exit. I mentioned that I hadn’t seen a shuttle in the time we’d been on the circuit but Dan was confident one would turn up just as we did. Bloody hell, he was right. We jumped on with the small crowd waiting and settled in to enjoy another tour of the track and the chaos.
Our shuttle guide was very active, getting out of the truck at each stop to make sure everyone got to where they needed to go. As we meandered through traffic and past the main grandstand, we were alongside some tailgaters in the carpark. We happened to stop by one such tailgate to be offered Tequila shots! The partiers brought them over to the shuttle, pleasing everyone – even the shuttle driver and our guide jumped out to throw one down the hatch and chase it with some coke. Our new friends shouted “Welcome to Texas!” as we drove on around the circuit.
We were the only ones on the shuttle by the time we’d done a full lap and the guide asked where we were trying to go and we admitted we were just along for the ride. She told us Turn 1 was the last stop and while we didn’t really want to do any more walking, it seemed we’d be walking down the hill one last time.
The sun was gong down now and while the crowd had dispersed, the traffic had thickened. Gates were wide open, fences were knocked down and so we let ourselves in and back onto the circuit through the broken down fence we’d seen earlier. The teams now had their shipping crates on the main straight, forklifts had the run of the circuit and painters were busy changing the sponsorship signage.
Not sure if we’d get in trouble, we wandered down the hill and tool a look into the pit lane before finally leaving COTA at the main grandstand and heading to our usual BBQ spot.
The chaos continued here. There must have been 1,000 people in the queue for Lot Q shuttles and not a bus in sight. That didn’t matter to us, we were in no rush to go back to our swamp camp and we were obviously starving. The BBQ guys recognized us and we rejoiced at the amount of food they still had on offer while they asked us how the race had been.
I set up our chairs and lounged back to enjoy a cool drink. I’d barely taken a sip before I was recognized. A couple approached me and said, “you were the one at the front of the line this morning!” Yes I was! I had a great chat with them, it was their first time and despite having grandstand tickets, they’d arrived so early because their driver had many people to deliver they’d drawn the short straw with an early arrival time. By the time Dan had collected our food, we were still chatting away, but we said goodbye and goodluck.
We parked our chairs on the grass by the fence bordering the circuit to eat and watch the goings on. Bloody hell, it was better than TV. Still no buses, but the line behind us was thinning out. It was because people were bailing to walk the two miles to the parking lot. There were multiple Uber/Lyft drivers around trying to entice people into a ride, but none of them would take anyone to Lot Q!
The main event was the 3x ambulances and 2x ATVs rigged up as emergency response vehicles from the track arriving on scene with sirens and lights blazing and high speed – all to help a drunk guy that had fallen asleep by the BBQ joint. Everyone had to be involved! When the drunkard had been taken away in one of the vehicles, the rest of the crew figured they might as well get themselves some BBQ!
Not able to get to Lot Q, we figured we’d try get a ride from where we were and so I booked a Lyft. It was only a $18 ride but no ETA. Didn’t bother us, no place to be in a hurry. Soon after the ambulance hub-ub, we heard a voice behind us that said, “Hello! I’m four!” We turned around to see a four year old plonk his chair down on the other side of the fence, obviously keen for a chat. He was a lovely little fella who’d had a great day at the track. We soon met the whole family – about seven kids and Mum who’d driven from New York and made a trip of the event. One of the girls had a signed hat from Latifi and the other had been handed a McLaren hat by none other than Daniel Ricciardo! I told her to take it straight home and put it in a glass case. What a lovely group of people to talk to, but our conversation was cut short when my phone buzzed alerting us to our nearby driver who’d arrived. We yelled our goodbyes and met our driver Alberto.
We were feeling quite happy with ourselves and our weekend as our driver navigated us away from the circuit and in the opposite direction to the traffic heading into the city. When we hit the highway, the mood turned south when our driver started swearing at all the traffic he’d have to sit through on his way back towards the city after dropping us off. He was clearly pissed off that he was getting only $18 for a ride that would result in a two-hour sit in traffic on his return. We stayed quiet in the back and were a little nervous as he sped across the highway and down the country road but all worked out well. As we hopped out, Dan put some cash down in an attempt to appease him, but he really had been ripped off.
And so, we had our last night at the “haven”. The place was empty. After dropping our gear, we went to the shower looking forward to a thorough cleaning. We were disappointed to find the gas bottle empty and the water cold, but it didn’t last long, a cold shower was near as good as a hot one would have been. Since our towel had been pissed on by something while hanging out to dry, we dripped dry on our walk back to camp.
The Strip
By the time we woke the next morning, we were ready to run out of River Forest Haven. I’d found a spider in the tent last night and Dan’s inflatable pillow had busted its internal walls and so it turned into a balloon. I was exhausted so managed to sleep fairly well, but Dan hadn’t. Since we’d used our sheet as our place holder on the Turn 1 hill on wet grass, the tent smelt like a barn and the sticky heat remained throughout the night.
Dan texted the camp host before he got out of bed asking for a hot water fix and we were surprised when twenty minutes later we got a message back saying it was back! Sweet, at least we could start fresh. I was happy to don a dress and we packed up our race camp. Our host came by to collect our rubbish and he said we should stay a while – relax – enjoy nature! As he drove away we realized that he thinks this place really is a haven. Blind love of his land, we were happy to leave it behind us.
We took our last walk along Man-O-War drive to meet our Uber driver and get to the airport. It was a busy place with race fans all over and we had plenty of time before our early afternoon flight. After a short queue we were seated at a burger place where we enjoyed a sit-down brunch before waiting around for our Spirit plane.
A couple of hours later, we landed in Vegas. While our original booking had us getting straight on another plane, we now had 5 and a half hours to kill. The Vegas strip was in our sights and so we stepped outside to catch a bus over to it. The weather was much cooler here with some slight sideways rain and grey cloudy skies. After figuring out the bus system, we waited a while for our ride then paid a couple of bucks for our shuttle to the big smoke.
We landed on the strip at New York, New York. After wandering inside, we decided we’d be better off walking outside and so navigated our way onto Las Vegas Boulevard. Needing beverages, Dan pointed out an ABC store and we walked out with $3 tall-boys to complement our stroll. We didn’t really go in our out of anywhere, just people watched and took in the billboards advertising all sorts of shows. After an hour or so we turned around and made our way back down the opposite side of the street.
Back at the bus stop, we consulted the timetable and discovered our bus would be by in about twenty minutes. Good timing too because the rain had started coming at us and the bus shelter didn’t provide a whole lot of cover. Two buses arrived together and ours was behind. I waved at the driver and we waited for the first bus to pull away. When our bus pulled out from behind the first one, me Dan and another guy ran after it. When he stopped at a traffic light, we caught up to him and I knocked on the door, indicating that he’d just blown by us. He wasn’t having it. He just shook his head. I waved my arms a bit but that obviously wasn’t going to help any. It was properly raining now and so we all ran back to the shelter. It was another 45 minutes until the next bus and none of us were keen. I asked our new friend if he’d like to share a Lyft with us to the airport since he was headed there as well – he obliged, and a driver turned up for us five minutes later. The wonders of modern technology. We all hopped in the back and we got to know our new friend who’d spent his weekend at an EDM concert in Vegas. It is the kind of thing you do to listen to electronic music and do a lot of drugs. He’d had a good weekend.
At the airport, we got ourselves some food and awaited our next plane, which, thanks to a call from Mum and Dad to kill the time, came pretty quickly. I was hitting a wall big time and so I called my work mate to see if he’d cover my shift tomorrow. He was happy to and a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders – no 5am start for me! I was asleep on Dan’s shoulder before the plane took off and I stayed that way until we landed.
Unfortunately, our ride home was the most expensive of the trip. Thinking we were being smart avoiding Uber and Lyft’s surge pricing, we got into a taxi but were thoroughly ripped off paying $120 to get home. Not only that, the guy was a crackhead in every sense of the word – rocking backwards and forwards in his seat and driving in a binary fashion with his throttle and braking. Whatever, we were happy to be out of there. We got to our front door around midnight and boy were we happy to be home with a proper hot shower and a nice soft bed.
Thanks Austin! We’ll have a few races to choose from next year but considering Mexico is another country and Miami is rumoured to be a carpark track, we might just do it all over again in Texas. River Forest Haven and all.
