The Neophyte

Can a 24-hour Immersion Help a Motorsport Agnostic Find Racing Religion?

- David Curcurito

DAMN, DRIVING FAST IS JUST THE BEST. Whether it’s hitting an apex perfectly or watching the needle swing around the speedometer, nothing is so satisfying. Not even a bunch of kittens licking whipped cream off your feet. But I’ll save that story for Cat Fancy magazine.

Watching others drive fast, on the other hand, has never been my thing. Although I’ve had the chance to drive many high performance cars during my time as design director at Esquire (and generally lucky SOB), the extent of my personal motorsport experience consists of attending a single sprint-car race on a dirt track. More than anything, I remember the dirt.

In an attempt to convert this car enthusiast into a racing fan, R&T sent me to the Rolex 24 at Daytona. It’s the Super Bowl of sports-car racing, a crown jewel of American motorsport. The right place to see what I’ve been missing.

Flying into Daytona Beach’s tiny airport, it’s hard to overlook the speedway. It’s literally next to the runway. You eye the trioval’s banking; it’s humbling, like seeing the Hoover Dam or the Kingda Ka roller coaster at Six Flags. Much of Daytona’s 3.56-mile road course, including the start/finish line, is on this banking, rare in major endurance races.