Everything was seamless! My alarm went off at 5:30am, I packed myself some lunch like a good little tourist, rain jacket on to keep the wet off me, Maccas for the bathroom on the way to the ciruit and the ticket office was open! The only slight mishaps were the rain that while only gentle had been constant since last night and me walking a back to the car shortly after leaving to change shoes when I realised my winter boots were no longer water proof.
The one open booth at the ticket office graciously gave me a ticket for $30 that gave me entry to both the main grandstand and the infield. The whole process took at least five minutes which I find atrocious considering there could have been a line of people in front of me, but who’s complaining, I finally had a ticket in my hand! I was a-buzz with excitement as I passed through the deserted security checkpoint and raced up the stairs towards the great noise I’d been hearing all night. I had a huge smile on my face when I finally saw it – the oval. The noise was overwhelming. The roar of the engines and throaty exhausts hit me right in the chest, as did the sight of the cars. I’d come so early because I wanted to see the track in the dark, then watch it change as the sun rose, albeit behind thick grey clouds. I wasn’t disappointed. The enduro Le Mans-style cars were stunning and the production cars with enough bodywork to make them look alien tore past me on the wet track with beautiful rooster tails flaring up behind them, all in shining lights. The cars themselves were lit up like Christmas trees. All of them had a green or red number in LEDs on their side showing their position in the race of their class, but many had extra strips of lights tucked away in their grilles, on their roofs and some even had constantly flashing brake lights. It was an attack on the senses.
After I got over the shock of the motoring spectacle, I became aware of the hugeness of the structure I was standing on. The only motorsport grandstand in the world apparently and it was absolutely massive, even bigger than it had looked from the outside and I was only standing on Level 1 out of 4. I’d come into the track right at the start-finish line and soon realised that the cars were driving on more than just an oval, they were doing turns too! I meandered along the stadium towards the circuit section, not having to worry about security guards or the “no standing” signs everywhere. There was probably a dozen people in the whole complex it was so early. At the circuit end, there was plenty of good action, involving some heavy braking into the first corner which was crossing everyone up in the wet.
I went skyward to the fourth level of the stands, right in the corner. The stand is so steep it wsa dizzying climbing to the height, but the view was absolutely outstanding. I’m not exaggerating when I say I could see every inch of the 2-minute lap. Good thing too because they only had two TVs on the whole circuit and they were tiny and seemed to be pointing to no one in particular. Same as at all motorsport events I’ve been to, the speaker system can’t compete with the cars so you can’t hear anything, but it’s not such a big problem when you can see everything in front of you. I stayed here for a while, but I was in the rain and wind so retreated back down a few levels. I spent the first few hours wandering to different parts of the stadium, pissed off that I’d forgotten to bring a towel to wipe down the wet seats.
Behind the seating, they had plenty of TVs and vendors (which were not occupied) and here I learnt that quite a few people I knew were out on the track. The likes of Giancarlo Fisichella, Sebastien Buemi, Bruno Senna, Nick Heidfeld, all people who had come and go into F1 and obviously found their kicks elsewhere. It was exciting for me because now I had some people to root for. I also learnt about the four different classes of racing going on, but even by the end of the day it was hard to keep up with what was going on. Determined to see some pitstops, I stopped in the grandstand along the pit straight for a while and my want was satisfied.
I explored all the ghost-town exhibits in the concourse behind the seating and scored a free t-shirt when I stopped to talk to a Chevy lady who saw me admiring the Chev SS, a car I’d worked on back in my GM days. I’m always remembered of home when I see the Commodore in disguise and reflect on my good times as a test engineer. Having explored every nook and cranny of the grandstand, there was a few hours of racing to go (the 24 hour race had started at 2pm yesterday and would finish at 2pm today) I left the grandstand and made my way over to the infield. This is where the fanzone, merchandise and garages are.
I’d neglected to pay the extra $20 for access to the garages but using my well-honed skills, I found a gap in the fence that had no security and slipped on through. It was cool to get up close, but I’m glad I hadn’t paid money for the experience because you couldn’t get that close. I was in the right place at the right time when a Le Mans car pulled into the pits having retired, looking very second hand. The driver was limping from the car and I turned away, feeling bad at the crowd of people that had gathered to watch when I felt like he needed some privacy.
I walked through all the merchandise stalls, not tempted by anything, but I mostly enjoyed walking through the campsites. They had everything from the luxurious RVs right down to tents pitched in muddy grass. I could have even scored a free shower! What I did score was some beer as I was walking along a promenade. A guy had a keg and he was just pouring into those stereotypical American red party cups and handing them out because they’d brought too much. Thanks very much! It was terrible beer (probably Bug Light or something), but no motorsport event is complete without drinking a shit beer. When I asked a camper how much he’d paid for a spot right next to the track, he told me $800 for four days, so not bad if you had a party group. I sat in every small stand in the infield to see the cars from a different vantage point and even though here you were up close, it didn’t come close to the views from the grandstand.
Before I knew it, the race was nearing its end so I crossed back over to the grandstand to watch the last hour from the best vantage point possible. By this stage, I’d learned who was fighting for the win in the main class and in the Production Class, Fisichella was fighting for a podium! As with all endurance races, everything happened in the last few laps. Second place overtook the leader for the win in the main class, punting him into a spin in the process (oh, the drama). Fisichella made a mistake and lost second place, then third and he couldn’t recover. It was a brilliant end and to top it all off, the sun came out for the first time right before the cars crossed the line.
Thoroughly happy with my day, I moved off with the rest of the crowd, the podium a mere spec from the grandstand so I watched the celebrations on the screens through the back of the grandstand as I walked. As I walked back along the street to my car, I stripped off most of my layers since the sun was warming me. I was ready for a long sit down after the walk back, I was knackered both from the early morning and all the walking around.
When I got back to the van that’s exactly what I did. I made a snack and sat, watched a bit of TV series, then lay down in bed to listen to a podcast. Just as I was drifting off, I heard voices outside and when I looked up, uh oh, a cop car. He knocked on the window just as I figured out what was going on. I stepped out of the van, feeling homeless in my bare feet and he told me I couldn’t really park here. He asked for my ID and took down my plates and was very kind. He said the hospital security had asked him to investigate because the car had been there for a while (they had security cameras I hadn’t noticed). The policeman was very nice, he didn’t scold me or tell me to leave, instead suggesting another place that I could park where I wouldn’t be bothered. After that, he was on his way and so was I. I didn’t want to park in the Maccas carpark he suggested so I looked for a camp in the South direction and found a spot in a Wilderness area. On my way there I became less confident of this camp (for no reason in particular) so looked around for other options. I was happily surprised to see a rest area a few miles ahead on the highway I was travelling on, which is where I am now. “No Overnight Camping in Trailers” says the sign. I’m not camping and I’m not in a trailer says I.