Reflections on a Rolex
Photos by Charlie Haywood & Timothy Gorman
The 2023 edition of the Rolex 24 Hours of Daytona for the IMSA WeatherTech Sports Car Championship was something special, something that had to be experienced to be believed. Little did we know that when we loaded up my trusty B8 Volkswagen Passat, we would be embarking on a pilgrimage to the “World Center of Racing” that none of us will soon forget. The trip from Charlotte was one flat-out blast eastbound and down that took us from the rolling hills and plains of the Carolinas all the way down to the savannahs of eastern Florida (with a few rest stops in between including this writer’s first time at Buc-cee’s, man what a place). Now, I’m no stranger to IMSA events, I’ve been to VIRginia International Raceway, camped at Watkins Glen for the 6 hour a few times, enjoyed the glitz and glamour of Long Beach, and thoroughly relished my time during the Petit Le Mans at Road Atlanta last fall, but this race was just something different altogether.
Thursday: First Encounters of the Grand Touring Prototype Kind
Upon our arrival in town on Thursday evening, it was straight to the track, hoping to catch the very tail end of the first Mazda MX-5 Cup race. As we first emerged through the Turn 4 tunnel, the vastness of the place struck us all, the faint buzzing of the small but fierce 4-cylinder Miatas had been a fine prelude as we schlepped from the parking lot (schlepping from place to place was the order of the weekend given the massiveness of the facility). We stopped, looked around, and took in the vista of numerous battle packs of Roadsters flat-out on the banking as the sky was bathed in a beautiful Florida sunset. “This is home”, I thought.
Just as soon as we made it inside, the checkered flag flew, and we made a beeline to victory lane. Thanks to a cheerful man from IMSA, we were kindly let into victory lane as we watched Florida’s own 17-year-old hot shoe Tyler Gonzalez pull it in with the victory after another typical MX-5 barn burner of a finish. Smelling a bit of champagne, we then prowled the paddock as the topflight WeatherTech teams prepped for the first-night practice of the weekend and the anticipation was palpable.
There we stood on a delightfully cool evening on the outside of the 2nd infield hairpin, Turn 5, the right-hand corner that sets up a short sprint to the left-hand Turn 6 that spits racers out onto the legendary banking. The first cars began to slowly make their way around, tiptoeing on their cold tires and it wasn’t but a lap or two until we saw the true nature of the new hybrid GTP beasts. The way the GTP cars came off the corner was beyond belief; I’d say they looked as fast if not faster than the manufacturer aero kit era Indycars I saw at Long Beach back in 2017. We managed to catch the number 47 Cetliar Ferrari 296 GT3 find the tires and finally get going again after some particularly tense moments as the driver tried to rejoin the circuit. We stood in awe for a while observing the cars put the power down until we decided to move back towards the Kink at Turn 4 and later, further towards the Pedro Rodriguez hairpin at Turn 3, named for the Mexican great who so excelled at this track in Porsches. We meandered down the fence, stopping as we pleased to watch the cars streak by, I was truly struck by the overlapping nature of the infield course which produced an absolute cacophony of sound that was ever so exquisite. We ended up watching the end of the session at the exit of the Rodriguez hairpin, there was just something about those GTP cars, something so visceral in their very nature. From the incredible roar of the naturally aspirated Cadillac V8 to the screaming Acura turbo V6, and the rather muted, but very enjoyable tones of the BMW and Porsche turbo V8s. Under the lights of Daytona, they are all fire-breathing beasts who dart, jet, and carve up the traffic with an exceptional kind of raw brutality. GTP in one word? Otherworldly.
Thoughts and First Impressions on the Circuit
Daytona seemed to draw a much more high-class crowd than any other IMSA event I’ve attended. This was clear to me by the breadth of eclectic machines that could be found parked throughout the infield (that we may just spotlight in a future article on this site). The quality and quantity of the RV campsite setups in the infield were a sight to behold. In short, the track boasts incredible spectator facilities from the monolithic main grandstands to the impeccable restroom facilities in the infield, this truly is a real fan’s circuit. As we meandered around the infield as the practice session drew to a close, I began to be put under Daytona’s spell. Being drawn to Lake Lloyd, the rectangular-shaped man-made lake created by the very construction of the circuit’s fabled banking, peering into the reflections, watching the lumbering beasts of LMP3 get gobbled up by their faster prototype brethren with GT cars tailing close behind. I made my way back towards the paddock to meet my friends watching the cars go by in flashes like a nickelodeon through the trackside RVs and campfires, I began to think about the state of IMSA, it was plain to see that this weekend, and in fact, this season would bring in an influx of new fans. So, I ask, what will change? What will stay the same? Will the same attitudes that make IMSA so brilliant now continue? There was plenty to ponder as we made the short drive east to our lovely beachside condo that we managed to book for the weekend.
Friday: Real Stock Car Racin’
The sun rose to bring on another picture postcard Florida day, and that meant dragging out of bed and making haste for the track. We arrived in a whole new city that had established itself in the infield overnight, just about every campsite was taken in the great city of “Daytona USA”. I took to the grandstands to take in the second and final MX-5 cup race where my friend Matthew Dirks (who we must have on the podcast), drove through the field, just missing out on a top ten (and a considerable payout) in eleventh. I was the first to greet him after his mad dash to the bathroom after the race to offer support, and actually meet him in the flesh for the first time. I was first drawn to him after his iconic selfie at Daytona last year after stuffing it in the Le Mans Chicane and from there he’s been a great man to know. A quick chat about the race and he was on his way, on to St. Petersburg. In the lull, we took to the grand petrolhead bazaar in the back behind the paddock, this market of motorsports memorabilia both new and old rivaled the grand old markets of the Middle East, haggling included. We all left with our treasures and geared up for the WeatherTech autograph session. Unfortunately, we came up empty on account of the biblical lines that greeted us throughout the garage area. We sought refuge on top of the garages and watched the masses continue to gather as the session got underway, don’t meet your heroes, or do, but bear in mind, you’ll have to wait.
We really did make our mark on Daytona…
Next came the 4-hour BMW Endurance Challenge, a prelude for the marathon that lay ahead. The Michelin Pilot Challenge as it is now known has always been a favorite of mine as it has always been the closest thing to showroom stock car racing. Not so much anymore as teams are provided purpose-built race cars from the manufacturers, but they do share much more in common with their roadgoing counterparts than the GT3 cars featured in the WeatherTech series. Gone are the days of modifying a production car to the given ruleset and gone are the very diverse grids that used to make up IMSA Challenge competition. I especially miss the days of the Street Tuner class which was primarily made up of small-bore imports such as the MINI, MX-5, Cayman, and a few others. Seeing them on track with 911’s, Camaros, and Mustangs was always a great contrast. Truly attainable racing machinery raced at a high level, the closest you get these days are the lower classes of the SRO series which we may just cover at VIR in the coming months. The real death blow to me came within the last few years as the manual transmission has withered away and died in the series, one must truly wonder how many young racing drivers these days can drive a proper stick shift car well. Sure, the series features some great racing on iconic tracks, but it’s just not the same as it once was; call me old-fashioned all you want. As we settled in to watch the race, I began to think more about the circuit from a spectator’s perspective. Daytona is unlike any other road course I have visited previously, sightlines for spectators are not great unless you find yourself in a grandstand otherwise your view is sullied by the mass of RVs and campsites on the trackside. Also, if you plan on coming to Daytona, hope you like walking, I managed to trek double-digit miles each day going up, down, and all around the track’s 3.8-mile distance. Today I took it easier, finding myself perched atop a crowded grandstand at the infield kink not quite sure exactly where to look as the action was overwhelming with cars approaching from all different directions. At the race’s halfway point, the sun began to sink ever lower in the sky and the seconds continued to tick by as did the cars. It was at this point I noticed attrition begin to really set in, one could see wounded race cars just trying to make their way to the finish and the longer-than-usual Pilot Challenge affair was beginning to take its mechanical toll on the cars as well as the drivers as I witnessed a GT4 BMW M4 grind to a halt on the approach to Turn 6. We spent the remainder of the race wandering around the fence line and paddock area watching from corner to corner and seeing what each lavish manufacturer display had to offer. By the end of the race, we ended up right in the center of it all on the grand midway behind the pits as a large crowd had gathered to watch the finish on the jumbotron. We all filed into victory lane to greet NASCAR drivers Harrison Burton and Zane Smith who had emerged victorious in their Mustang. Watch out for those young NASCAR boys, they really can do it all, absolutely putting the IMSA paddock on notice that stock car drivers can do a whole lot more than just turn left. After the champagne showers of victory lane and one last stroll through the garages as the teams packed up, it was time to reflect once again.
We track rats are a special breed, a bit crazy, a bit weird, a bit stupid, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. There are many things that draw us to the racetrack, but one thing that brings us all together is the spirit of enthusiasm for these great machines and drivers which creates a special and close-knit community of those in the know. Those who love the on-track action, those who love cars, and those like me who love the whole atmosphere. It is why we build these great cathedrals of speed, why we create challenging ribbons of asphalt miles from civilization, why we close down city streets in the name of competition, and why we build tiny dirt bullrings in even the smallest towns across this great country. The common denominator is speed, and we were ready for 24 hours of it.
Saturday: The 61st 24 Hours of Daytona
It’s all for the hardware…
After some late-night parking lot shenanigans at the condo that involved some car Tetris and “parking lot improvements”, we were already exhausted before the twice-around-the-clock classic began. The Saturday morning drive to the circuit was one full of anticipation, which made the fact that we were running late pretty irrelevant. As soon as we reached the tunnel in Turn 4, we found a sea of people lining up to get in. As we approached the pits in preparation for the pre-race grid walk the garage area was already filled to the brim with a mass of humanity. The people are hungry, and they crave sports cars. Stuck in our cattle pen, we ended up hanging around the Shank hauler, watching the crew come and go and rubbing shoulders with the stars of the GTP ranks as there was nowhere else to go. The rope was dropped and the trickle of people flowing out onto the grid quickly turned into a torrent. There were easily thousands milling about the banking and massive infield grass area as the lucky few in the hot lap experience cars had to slow to a crawl to get through the massive crowd before they could open the taps once more. The pitlane itself had been roped off as the thoroughbred racing machines were being pushed by their respective crews to their grid spots. Just as soon as the final GTP in the parade full of pomp and circumstance came to a halt, the ropes were crossed and the mob descended, desperate for a close look at the shiny new GTP prototypes before they would wear the battle scars of 24 hours of hard racing. As the calls came through to clear the grid, we snuck up through the access gates and joined the mad dash to the main stadium grandstands to grab a good seat to catch the start. Looking down at the still-clearing grid and quickly filling grandstands, it was plain just by looking that this event was something out of the ordinary. The level of excitement the new GTPs brought was obvious, I would later learn that this year welcomed the largest crowd ever for the 24 Hours and you could definitely tell at a cursory glance.
This race is the definitive American take on Le Mans, and there was something that felt so right about seeing Roger Penske on top of the pit box at another 24-hour race. The roar of the crowd could easily be heard over the cacophony of thousands of horsepower as the drivers took the start. I can’t think of a better place to take it all in than high up in the grandstand under the delightfully warm sun and cool breezes that only Florida seems to offer. The best part of the grandstands is if you sit in the right place between the horseshoes, you get a perfect view of almost the entire circuit and the upper grandstand is where I’d make my home for a good portion of the race. There was truly not a better place to take in all the action, from keeping track of the retirements to catching the odd spin. As the shadows began to grow long on the high banks, I had firmly decided that this was the best-sounding IMSA grid in recent memory since turbocharging began to take over, aided in great part by the volume and rawness of the GTP entries. As the sun grew ever lower in the sky, we headed out to the parking lot for a quick meal and a bit of tailgating. After, it was straight back in to cruise the fan zone and spend some time at the vintage car showcase (article coming soon). As the evening grew darker, it was time for more rambling throughout the infield to get different perspectives on the action. The photographers were hard at work getting those money shots, many with their preferred method of getting over the top of the fence. It was at this time we really started to see many of the “Florida Ladder Carriers”, an odd quirk you get in a state this flat to see over the tall spectator fences and always a sure sign of an ace behind the lens. By this time, it’s a party, and I’ll tell you it’s not the sport that’s golden, it’s the scene dude, and this scene is located in “Infield Alley” along from the International Horseshoe to Turn 5. The jovial, laid-back atmosphere of the campers out by their fires mingling with spectators just passing through like us is something that just cements my love for sports car racing even more. One RV after another, each with something unique or impressive and filled with drunk old men, many of whom enjoy a good cigar. I halted at the marshal’s post on the outside of Turn 5 absolutely mesmerized by the precision of the flag waving. A quick shake of the blue flag, a GTP rocketing by, and a GT car close behind. From here, the design of the Cadillac at speed looks just so that it echoes the tailfins of old as it gobbles up the slower traffic. It was simply fantastic, I stood for minutes on end just watching them work. Without these trackside heroes, we don’t go racing and the sharp attention that must be paid for hours at a time makes them even more worthy of our respect. We finally found a good spot to settle in and enjoy the smokey air mixed finely with a tinge of race gas and indulged in a few beverages to ring in the night and let the clock tick away. After a few short minutes, I was firmly convinced that the grandstand that sits on the exit of the infield kink is one of the coolest spots in motorsports. The kaleidoscope of colors created by the headlights and colored LEDs on the cars went every which way from our vantage point and was a real treat. Next, it was over to the midway, if you’ve seen Steve McQueen’s Le Mans, this was it, crowded, full of life, carnival games ringing out, it was something out of a movie scene and I just soaked it all in. After a quick stop at Turn 6, it was over to the small grandstand on the inside of NASCAR Turn 2 as the cars screamed flat-out onto the back straight, headlights cutting through the night as they dice through the 180mph traffic jam.
The Biggest Fireworks Show in the State of Florida
Vara’s Steak Truck is totally legit.
The excitement was palpable as the crowd began to gather on the shores of Lake Lloyd, eager to get a taste of the Magic Kingdom on the beach. And what a show it was, one of the best fireworks displays I’ve had the pleasure of viewing. The fireworks continued on track as the action continued throughout the night with the distinctive voice of John Hindhaugh crackling in my ear through the radio. Oh, how I love IMSA Radio, their coverage is second to none and is instrumental to keeping up with the happenings on track wherever you may be. As the clock drew closer to midnight, we made like Cinderella and left. A quick stop at the car and a longer stop at the Wawa across the street from the circuit. There is another thing to love about the “World Center of Racing”, all the amenities you could want within walking distance. Restaurants? You got it. Big box retail? Sure. Cannabis outlet? This is Florida after all. You’ve got to love a racetrack close to civilization, after VIR or Watkins Glen, it sure is nice. There is nothing like a Wawa full of petrolheads after midnight and once our purchase of subs and energy drinks was complete it was back inside. Saving my sandwich for later, I was pulled over by the intoxicating smell of grilled meats to the wonderful Vara’s Racing Steak Truck. They sported an impressive setup, grilling over real wood. I went for a whole sliced steak done Venezuelan style with a delightful cilantro sauce. Easily the best track food ever (sorry Martinsville hot dog). We spent the next hour or so observing the crews in the paddock either thrashing on cars or trying to catch some z’s. We followed the massive Grassroots Motorsports convoy around the garage soaking it all up and this was the perfect time I thought to try my hand at film photography. Albeit on a disposable camera, archaic technology nonetheless, I ended up with a few decent ones, a real film camera seems to be in my future. By 2 am we found ourselves at the top of the Ferris wheel, just in time for a restart, pure petrolhead nirvana. By the time we got off, we also found out we were the last riders for the night, how lucky can you get? We then marched back out to the main grandstand for the remainder of the night. At this point, fatigue began to set in, the miles walked, and lack of sleep really started to come into full effect. At 4 am the Ferris wheel’s psychedelic blue and green patterns reminiscent of the old Porsche 917 combined with the steady stream of race cars going round and round started lulling me to sleep.
Sleeping Rough at Daytona
I found some Astroturf to set up camp on for the night in the concourse at the top of the grandstand. There was furniture set up, but it was all taken up by dozens of others braving the same chilly coastal breeze as I. After one of my least restful nights of sleep ever, I groggily made my way back to a grandstand seat to catch the sunrise and then broke into sleeping sitting up like I was back in high school again. By about 9 or 10 o’clock I was finally up as the leaders started getting frantic, carving up the traffic, Cadillac nipping at the heels of the Acura. The sun rose higher, and the air grew warmer, and it was time to get back to the center of the action. That meant one more major trek down through the infield tunnel and straight to the garages. We claimed our spot with about 2 hours to go on top of the garage before the main wave of spectators ascended to join us. There we stood for the remainder of the race, catching GTP drivers Simon Pagenaud and Sébastien Bourdais having quite the disagreement after their final stints outside the Meyer Shank hauler. Afterward, we were lucky enough to receive a visit from Florida’s favorite racing junkie, Mr. Kip Sebring of Turn Nine News. There’s not a more eccentric fellow in the paddock and I love the energy he brings out in people. With under an hour to go, just when we thought the race couldn’t get more dramatic the yellow was waved from the flag stand signaling a full course caution. This would happen again with a little under a half-hour remaining and the crowd was absolutely buzzing. It all came down to the final sprint to the finish, Cadillac versus Acura, the run for all the glory, and a wristwatch. In the end, it was the Shank Acura that came out on top, but it was LMP2 that stole the show with a fantastic photo finish with the German squad of Proton Competition taking the honors. Another honorable mention goes to the pro-am Heart of Racing Team taking the overall GT honors over the pro-class cars with their Aston Martin Vantage GT3. After the checkered flag went still, we made one last trip through the paddock, saying goodbye one last time as the “Paddock Pickers” wandered around with their treasures. Parts, banners, tires, anything they could get their hands on, with permission or without. And so, it was finally time to leave The World Center of Racing, one more quick stop at the Wawa to fuel up the car and grab provisions and it was back to the road. Podcasts were the only thing keeping us sane and me awake at the wheel for that long drive back to the 704 (Ryan Eversley’s fantastic Dinner with Racers was in heavy rotation).
Making Sense of it All
We had finally done it. Experienced the Rolex 24, and what a special one at that. There was so much that harkened back to the real golden years of IMSA, the crowds for one thing were unbelievable. I have never seen that many people in one place for a road race, even the Pilot Challenge race grid walk on Friday was absolutely swamped. Many, myself included, were awestruck at the Saturday crowds, you literally couldn’t walk in the paddock before the grid was opened. On to the cars, I have never seen anything quite so magnificent as a GTP punching out of the corner at full throttle under the night lights. While the drivetrain technology isn’t exactly at the bleeding edge, the end result is a beautiful and highly advanced racing machine that has stirred the imagination of the public (and manufacturers) in ways not seen for over 30 years. IMSA is on the upswing, and this race was concrete proof, but you had to be there to know it. Many complained about the TV coverage, and I completely understand, just goes to show there’s nothing better than being there. I will however make the same argument I’ve been espousing to anyone who cares to hear it for years: Just broadcast the Radio Le Mans stream for America! Here’s hoping that NASCAR sees that IMSA has an even brighter future now than ever before, especially with the coming convergence that sees this year’s Le Mans entry list packed to the gills with exciting prototypes making me regret not making reservations for the French endurance classic. In closing, the Rolex is absolutely a bucket list event for anyone with even a remote interest in motor racing, make your plans now, because 2024 is going to be even bigger and even better.
