Why do we race cars? To see who can build the best one. To develop new technology that can be applied in everyday life. To see what incredible new innovations we can come up with.
What do we want out of these innovations? Sustainability. Clean air. Resources that won't run out.
Enter the FIA Formula E championship.
Things are changing in the automotive industry. Some people, myself included, exuberantly support this new leaning toward clean, renewable energy, but even those who don't must recognize that it is inevitable. No matter your conclusion on climate change or any other environmental issue, the fact stands that fossil fuels will run out. Period. And we have to be ready for that. The FIA, having recognized this, predicts that electric cars will play a significant role in future modes of transportation.
The beauty of the Formula E championship is that it will do exactly what racing was originally intended to do: stimulate progress. Remember when the car, rather than the driver, was the star of the show? In racing's early days, the question was how to build a fast, reliable car. Now that we've effectively done that (though we will always strive to go faster), the question is how to build a clean car. Formula E will be the very first series to attempt to provide an answer. The FIA identifies battery life and efficiency as specific breakthroughs that must be made.
Formula E is truly the series of the future. Not only is it intended to develop green technology, it also works toward a cleaner earth in general, and thus, a better quality of life. As a motorsports enthusiast and an environmentalist, and I must say I am hardcore in both respects, this is a dream come true. I remember an episode of Wind Tunnel a few years ago that featured Tommy Kendall talking about green racing. He was asked if the end of fossil fuels meant the end of racing, and he replied that he believed the opposite. He said the concept of green racing could take the sport to a whole new level. This has been my greatest hope ever since.
The official calendar will not be confirmed until the December 2013 FIA World Motor Sport Council, but as of now, the series will compete in ten cities worldwide from September 2014 to June 2015. Ten teams will compete, each with two drivers, running Spark-Renault SRT_01E single seaters. This car is designed to be sustainable, (relatively) cheap, and to run exclusively on street courses.
Do I have a lot of hope for Formula E? Yes. Could it fail? Absolutely. But the idea has been realized, and that is a victory in itself. This is the kind of forward thinking we need to prepare ourselves for the future. This series may be the first of its kind, but I believe (and hope) it will not be the last.
Friday, November 1, 2013
Monday, September 2, 2013
Radio Indy
I have now been at Salem College for a week and I can confirm that it is a completely different world. I've been on my own before--working with Camp Motorsport at Virginia International Raceway, traveling to France--but of course each place has something new to adjust to, and one tends to approach a change a little differently if it's going to be permanent.
My first night at school? It was Saturday and they were racing at Bowman Gray Stadium. I have yet to explore that scene, but there is no ignoring that it's there. There is no air conditioning in my building to speak of, so it's impossible to sleep without the windows open. I'd drift off while they were under caution at Bowman Gray and, with the all those powerful engines revving in my ear, snap awake again as they went back to green. Well, I can't sleep through that...guess I have no choice but to be at the track for it from now on.
The real problem is this: before I left, I knew I'd have to figure out how to keep up with the racing world without a TV. Oh, sure, there's one in the basement of my residence hall--but it's the biggest residence hall and therefore almost always occupied. I'm still looking into streaming it on the internet. (Advice there would be much appreciated.) But for the Grand Prix of Baltimore, my time was occupied with other (less important) things and I was limited to the radio broadcast. That was an experience all on its own.
It's a common enough thing, I know. Most people's lives can't revolve around sports, but many people wish theirs could. I'm not the first person to put on headphones and check out of my surroundings, my face scrunched up in concentration, answering in short bits of nonsense to people who try to talk to me. And anyone who watched the Grand Prix of Baltimore would know I often had reason to suddenly shout or suck in my breath. That's always fun in public, of course! (When people look at you, just shake your head and say, "Sports." I think that does the trick.)
But a whole race on the radio? I might as well have gone blind. I thought of the family I get to see every May in Indianapolis, who don't go to the race and have to listen to the radio coverage because of the blackout. How could I stand to miss seeing any part of it? When I'm at a race, I don't leave my seat for any reason and I never have. But as I watched the minutes roll closer and closer to 2 pm on Sunday, I realized I had to follow this race live. I've been ridiculously busy this season and I was tired of letting it all unfold and hearing about it after the fact.
Yes, I wish I could have watched it with my own eyes. But it turns out, there are some advantages to getting the details from the radio. The bottom line is that I was surprisingly happy just to be hearing the familiar sounds and voices even when I couldn't see them. You know when people say radio is better than TV because it forces you to form your own picture of the situation? Without being able to see anything, the musical sound of race cars exiting the pits was all the more vivid. It was also easier to keep track of the running order, especially during restarts; I have a tendency to ignore the announcers and I can't always see the action as clearly as I would like.
But in such a visual world, sound seems a flimsy means of communication at times. It was pouring in Winston-Salem, so a flood alarm popped up on my phone and killed the radio broadcast with only a few laps to go. I was seething. In that moment--um, no, that warning was not trying to keep me safe! It was all part of a conspiracy to deny me access to the racing world!
Honestly, there's only one legitimate drawback. But it's a real drawback. It is a huge, major, gigantic drawback. Most of the time, I had a better idea of what was going on because I relied solely on the announcers. BUT--and if you watched, you know--there were several questionable occurrences in this race, and without seeing it, I couldn't form my own opinion on what happened. I could only go by the thoughts of those calling the race. On Sunday, I missed being able to rewind the incidents as many times as necessary and pinpoint who started it and when, perhaps arguing about it with whoever was watching with me. It's important to gather and clarify my own thoughts about those things, especially because I sometimes disagree with what the announcers are saying. I only had their voices, plus the opinions flitting around the Twittersphere. I couldn't contribute to any conversation until I had seen the footage myself.
In the end, I'm glad I got to experience the Grand Prix of Baltimore on the radio. It made me feel like part of something. It was always easy to sit down and watch racing at home. Now I'm one of those always-busy college kids, and sometimes I have things to do on Sunday afternoons. But I can still find a way to be close to the sport I love. I walked through Winston-Salem on Sunday with my headphones on and my brain in Baltimore, still supporting my series and my drivers while carrying on in my own little space. No matter where I am in a few years' time, my passion for auto racing will whisper into my ear just like the radio broadcast on Sunday. Regardless of where I end up, I'll never have to be apart from it.
My first night at school? It was Saturday and they were racing at Bowman Gray Stadium. I have yet to explore that scene, but there is no ignoring that it's there. There is no air conditioning in my building to speak of, so it's impossible to sleep without the windows open. I'd drift off while they were under caution at Bowman Gray and, with the all those powerful engines revving in my ear, snap awake again as they went back to green. Well, I can't sleep through that...guess I have no choice but to be at the track for it from now on.
The real problem is this: before I left, I knew I'd have to figure out how to keep up with the racing world without a TV. Oh, sure, there's one in the basement of my residence hall--but it's the biggest residence hall and therefore almost always occupied. I'm still looking into streaming it on the internet. (Advice there would be much appreciated.) But for the Grand Prix of Baltimore, my time was occupied with other (less important) things and I was limited to the radio broadcast. That was an experience all on its own.
It's a common enough thing, I know. Most people's lives can't revolve around sports, but many people wish theirs could. I'm not the first person to put on headphones and check out of my surroundings, my face scrunched up in concentration, answering in short bits of nonsense to people who try to talk to me. And anyone who watched the Grand Prix of Baltimore would know I often had reason to suddenly shout or suck in my breath. That's always fun in public, of course! (When people look at you, just shake your head and say, "Sports." I think that does the trick.)
But a whole race on the radio? I might as well have gone blind. I thought of the family I get to see every May in Indianapolis, who don't go to the race and have to listen to the radio coverage because of the blackout. How could I stand to miss seeing any part of it? When I'm at a race, I don't leave my seat for any reason and I never have. But as I watched the minutes roll closer and closer to 2 pm on Sunday, I realized I had to follow this race live. I've been ridiculously busy this season and I was tired of letting it all unfold and hearing about it after the fact.
Yes, I wish I could have watched it with my own eyes. But it turns out, there are some advantages to getting the details from the radio. The bottom line is that I was surprisingly happy just to be hearing the familiar sounds and voices even when I couldn't see them. You know when people say radio is better than TV because it forces you to form your own picture of the situation? Without being able to see anything, the musical sound of race cars exiting the pits was all the more vivid. It was also easier to keep track of the running order, especially during restarts; I have a tendency to ignore the announcers and I can't always see the action as clearly as I would like.
But in such a visual world, sound seems a flimsy means of communication at times. It was pouring in Winston-Salem, so a flood alarm popped up on my phone and killed the radio broadcast with only a few laps to go. I was seething. In that moment--um, no, that warning was not trying to keep me safe! It was all part of a conspiracy to deny me access to the racing world!
Honestly, there's only one legitimate drawback. But it's a real drawback. It is a huge, major, gigantic drawback. Most of the time, I had a better idea of what was going on because I relied solely on the announcers. BUT--and if you watched, you know--there were several questionable occurrences in this race, and without seeing it, I couldn't form my own opinion on what happened. I could only go by the thoughts of those calling the race. On Sunday, I missed being able to rewind the incidents as many times as necessary and pinpoint who started it and when, perhaps arguing about it with whoever was watching with me. It's important to gather and clarify my own thoughts about those things, especially because I sometimes disagree with what the announcers are saying. I only had their voices, plus the opinions flitting around the Twittersphere. I couldn't contribute to any conversation until I had seen the footage myself.
In the end, I'm glad I got to experience the Grand Prix of Baltimore on the radio. It made me feel like part of something. It was always easy to sit down and watch racing at home. Now I'm one of those always-busy college kids, and sometimes I have things to do on Sunday afternoons. But I can still find a way to be close to the sport I love. I walked through Winston-Salem on Sunday with my headphones on and my brain in Baltimore, still supporting my series and my drivers while carrying on in my own little space. No matter where I am in a few years' time, my passion for auto racing will whisper into my ear just like the radio broadcast on Sunday. Regardless of where I end up, I'll never have to be apart from it.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
7 Reasons to Love Turbo
A loyal Indy Car fan, there was never any question that I would see Turbo. I even had my picture taken with him at the Indy 500 this year, at my mom's request. I wasn't all that enthusiastic about it at the time, but now that I've seen it, I'm impressed. Turns out, this movie is worth seeing.
- It's so real, you forget it's fake. There is not a paint stripe out of place. If you know that track, you won't be disappointed. When Turbo first arrives at the track, there is a drop dead gorgeous montage of real scenes that are still fresh in my mind from May. I was bouncing in my seat when I saw the perfectly proportioned and painted number 12 car of Will Power. The cars weren't too fast for the track, so it wasn't too cartoon-ish. Actually--it was an animated movie about a snail who races in the Indy 500, but there wasn't much that was cartoon-ish about it. It was a whole lot more realistic than Driven, the 2001 train wreck chronicling a season of CART. But then again, that's not saying much. (I'm criticizing the movie, not CART.)
- In the theater, you're surrounded by kids. I was kind of dreading that ahead of time, but there were some undeniably captivating open wheel racing scenes, and I was happy they were seeing it. I was hoping that it had the tiniest bit of influence on just a few of them. I love open wheel racing, and I just want people to know that auto racing isn't synonymous with NASCAR. It's not that there's anything wrong with NASCAR. It's just not all there is. It was nice to hear everyone in the world of Turbo raving about the Indy 500 for a change.
- Guy Gagné has a wonderful name. So, everybody is writing a novel, right? Which means everybody's been through the struggle of naming characters. Choose a name that means something significant about the character, say baby name websites that include advice for aspiring authors. And that's just what the makers of Turbo did. "Gagné" is the past tense of the French verb "gagner" which means "to win." Simple, and not too obvious. A winning choice indeed.
- One of the drivers' names is Shelby. Oh my gosh! That's my name! I just might be happy forever now. But in all seriousness, I'm elated she was there and running up front. It's a tiny, tiny detail, but it's important. Perhaps the fact that it was such a little part is what made it so important. I don't mind when female drivers get attention; I think it's pretty clear that it's hard to be a woman in a male-dominated sport. (If you disagree, then you should give it a shot.) However, I love it best when there isn't any fanfare at all. It says, yes, she's here. And she's a driver just like everybody else. There was an incomplete little sound bite about a Shelby Stone in the pre-race coverage in Turbo, and her name was mentioned a few other times. Of course, her being a woman was completely irrelevant to the plot, but that's just it. They didn't want to make her gender part of the plot, so they could have just put another male driver there. But they didn't. Me and all the little girls in the theater, we saw a competitive woman driver, and I promise, that is important.
- Social media. I don't often see kids' movies; I'm not sure if all the latest ones reflect our smart phone culture as perfectly as Turbo. Turbo got to race in the Indy 500 because a video of him went viral. That was part of the plot. It wasn't just a little bit thrown in to make the parents laugh--this is the world now, and that plot point keeps the story relevant. That shot where everyone in the stands had their phones out? I'm only eighteen and I remember a time before texting and Twitter. But all those kids in the theater don't. This is the world they know and this movie is right in with it.
- It's actually pretty engaging. Not entirely unpredictable, but what movie is? I sat down in the theater assuming the only good parts would be at the Speedway. And the best parts were at the Speedway. But there were definitely other good parts.
- That was really Paul Page. I checked IMDb. It was.
Go see it. Right now. Wait, what am I saying? You'll only be mad it's not May yet.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Where are the Marketing Degrees?
It seems that Indy Car has found the sweet spot when it comes to road racing. I must say that the quality of the ovals has worsened. Okay, I admit I was biased toward road courses to start with, but before Texas especially, I tuned in prepared for the usual good action and was disappointed. Toronto was a breath of fresh air after the long stretch of ovals and after Saturday's race, all I could think was, "We get to do this all again tomorrow." These double headers are growing on me.
There were a few pieces to the weekend that were a bit unsavory, however, and a lot of it goes back to marketing--that one thing Indy Car just can't get right, that one thing that's keeping the series down. NASCAR's marketing? It's solid gold. Everybody knows what it is. This may have something to do with the fact that I'm from North Carolina, but still, if I say the words "Indy Car" to someone, they picture NASCAR. Despite NASCAR's widespread popularity, I can't believe that it's just what people prefer, much less that Indy Car is an inferior product. Indy Car is just extremely different. And because it's so different, it can't ride on NASCAR's tidal wave. It has to make its own name, and it's not.
So, here's hoping the rumors are true that Tom Garfinkel will be coming to Indy Car. But it's not just how you promote the series. You have to deliver what you promise, and this weekend in Toronto, race control fell just a little bit short.
It started before the beginning. The first-ever Indy Car standing start was a selling point of the weekend. On Saturday there was just one attempt, and then it was called off and they went ahead with the flying start. That said, I was not at all interested in the concept anyway. Indy Car is a different product from Formula One--it has to be, or the two series couldn't coexist. Therefore, in Indy Car, there are flying starts, just as there are ovals in addition to road courses. Regardless, we were told that we would see a standing start on Saturday, and it just didn't happen. That's not the right precedent to set. At least they went ahead with it on Sunday. (Though it was just as anticlimactic as I expected it to be.)
Then there was the penalty for Dario Franchitti. He is not my favorite driver, but the call was wrong. Yes--he did move over. I saw it as a subconscious reaction to Will Power suddenly appearing underneath him, and others believed it was indeed on purpose. But at least in the room I was in, everyone agreed that all the drivers had been doing that all day and the call should not have been made. Particularly after the race. Most people hate to see a race won or lost in the pits, so nobody wants to see nitpick-y rules get in the way. As my dad said, the results should only be reviewed after the race if there was a violation that couldn't be ignored. But then again, Brian Barnhart was calling the shots this weekend.
The only thing worse than making a crippling, incorrect call? Taking it all back the next day. You want to make those decisions? Then just leave it. I guess I'm happy things were set right, and I bet that's how most people are feeling. But, personally? Make the call or don't, but pick one.
All I'm saying is that this is a spectator sport. If we're promised a standing start and if (for some reason...) we want to see it, we need to get it. We want to see cars battling for position, on the track, start to finish. And even though the rule book is important, it's only there because it has to be. It's there to keep things safe and fair. It's not there to punish drivers for trying to maintain their position in the closing laps of a race.
*DISCLAIMER*: I hate blocking. I am NOT saying drivers should be able to defend their position to the point of blocking. There is a difference between actually coming off the racing line and driving aggressively.
Now the last unfortunate thing about the weekend is a much bigger hurdle as far as marketing goes. We've been having the most interesting season in so long...until now. Coming into Toronto, we had eight different winners from seven different countries. We had three first-time winners. Helio Castroneves, who has always been one of the strongest drivers but has never won a championship, continues to hang on to the points lead. Even when Ganassi had luck at Pocono with Scott Dixon, it was nice to see the other half of the big two get their rhythm back. But after Dixon scored his third win in a row today, now that we're headed to Mid-Ohio where he is unquestionably the favorite, I'm afraid the last leg of the season is going to look a lot like it did last year. Of course, it doesn't matter how many marketing degrees a person has--a lot of this is out of their hands. Talent and skill can't and shouldn't be stifled. We are going in the right direction with the two engine manufacturers, the red and black tires, and the aero packages that will debut in 2015. We've just got to keep the competition tough. We've got to keep one or two big teams from dominating. Because, for most of the races this season, I've been genuinely unsure of what would happen next and completely excited to find out.
Monday, May 27, 2013
A Spectacle of Spectacles
As I left the Indianapolis Motor Speedway yesterday, I counted all the 500s I'd ever been to and came to nine. That's not many, is it? Maybe for an eighteen-year-old. My very first race seems like recent history until I remember that it was eight years ago. And even that doesn't seem so significant until I think that the difference between age ten and age eighteen is the same as the difference between age ten and age two. It's been a short eight years, and yet I've learned so much. I've gone so many places and met so many people.
It's been a short eight years, and yet I've seen the history books amended many times. I saw a woman lead the Indianapolis 500 for the first time in 2005. In 2006, I witnessed Michael Andretti leading under caution with very few laps to go--only to be passed by his nineteen-year-old rookie son, who then became the first driver to lead the white flag lap and not win the race. 2009 welcomed Helio Castroneves to the exclusive three-time winner club, and in 2012, Dario Franchitti joined him. 2011 gets the award for the most spectacular finish, our hearts first breaking for the rookie J.R. Hildebrand and then rejoicing for Dan Wheldon.
Even the less dramatic years will leave their mark on history. As my dad pointed out, certain drivers will be remembered for domination. Dario Franchitti will surely be one of them, taking all three of his wins within six years of each other. I will look back on 2008 recalling that all month, it had been only Scott Dixon's race to lose. Some may classify yesterday's race in the less exciting category, too, simply for the fact that it ended under caution. I couldn't disagree more.
In the first thirty laps, it was clear that we were on track to break the record for most lead changes. It was demolished, growing from 34 to 68. There were 14 different leaders, up from 12 in 1993. 27 cars were running at the finish, the most since 1911. And on top of all of that, it was the fastest race ever with an average speed of 187.433.
This race flew by. Yes, it actually was the shortest one. The cool weather made it much easier to sit for so long. But these drivers, they were keeping me on my toes. This race never settled in. We never got to a point where we could make predictions. The leader was never safe (though not without help from the drafting made possible by the DW12). They were always close--but they stayed clean. Every yellow was a single-car incident. I adored seeing the back stretch a total mess, and watching in admiration as they sorted it out before the turn. I was on my feet whenever someone got two positions at once.
We had worried about Carlos Munoz, a rookie with minimal seat time and a penchant for passing low, starting in the middle of the front row. He proved us all wrong. He never had a weak moment. A.J. Allmendinger seemed for awhile to be the hardest driver to pass. E.J. Viso was more impressive than he had ever been. It was fun to watch Ed Carpenter's charge from the pole in the beginning. And of course, Tony Kanaan, Marco Andretti, and Ryan Hunter-Reay got themselves to the front and never looked back.
My brother's girlfriend, who came to the race for the first time yesterday, had picked Tony Kanaan to win. It was a wise choice because he can never be counted out, but after so long, I didn't dare to hope. He has always been more than capable, but luck gets in the way. Yesterday, it cleared a path to victory for him. No driver brings more people to their feet by taking the lead. Everyone was behind him yesterday; we always have been. Finally, it was his turn. I'd be hard pressed to find someone who deserves it more. It seemed the field was in agreement, giving him congratulations from the cockpit and stopping his victory lap to hug him.
This is our race. This is our series. Some people want to see crashes, and rivalries, and trading paint, and green-white-checkereds. If that's what you like, then you've come to the wrong place, because the Indianapolis 500 is much bigger than all of that. People give everything they have to try to win here, and that can bring out the worst in them. What I see in most of our drivers, though, is that it brings out the best. There is fraternity in loving this race. Those thirty-three drivers may be competing against each other, but they are still somehow in it together. They race side by side, but give each other room. They all want to win, but they are bonded by that desire. And they can appreciate talent and determination in those they are trying to beat just as much as they could in the drivers they grew up watching.
For over a century, this peerless test of machine, skill, and perseverance has fulfilled dreams and dashed hopes. It has propelled careers and created legends. Sometimes we forget how powerful it really is, but yesterday brought it all back to the forefront. Records were broken, proof that auto racing is still about progress. They stayed clean because we're here for speed and not destruction. Thousands of spectators and thirty-three drivers congratulated Tony Kanaan because a man who worked harder than anyone finally saw it pay off. In the end, I cried tears of joy, and I wasn't the only one.
This is the Indianapolis 500, the Greatest Spectacle in Racing.
Even the less dramatic years will leave their mark on history. As my dad pointed out, certain drivers will be remembered for domination. Dario Franchitti will surely be one of them, taking all three of his wins within six years of each other. I will look back on 2008 recalling that all month, it had been only Scott Dixon's race to lose. Some may classify yesterday's race in the less exciting category, too, simply for the fact that it ended under caution. I couldn't disagree more.
In the first thirty laps, it was clear that we were on track to break the record for most lead changes. It was demolished, growing from 34 to 68. There were 14 different leaders, up from 12 in 1993. 27 cars were running at the finish, the most since 1911. And on top of all of that, it was the fastest race ever with an average speed of 187.433.
This race flew by. Yes, it actually was the shortest one. The cool weather made it much easier to sit for so long. But these drivers, they were keeping me on my toes. This race never settled in. We never got to a point where we could make predictions. The leader was never safe (though not without help from the drafting made possible by the DW12). They were always close--but they stayed clean. Every yellow was a single-car incident. I adored seeing the back stretch a total mess, and watching in admiration as they sorted it out before the turn. I was on my feet whenever someone got two positions at once.
We had worried about Carlos Munoz, a rookie with minimal seat time and a penchant for passing low, starting in the middle of the front row. He proved us all wrong. He never had a weak moment. A.J. Allmendinger seemed for awhile to be the hardest driver to pass. E.J. Viso was more impressive than he had ever been. It was fun to watch Ed Carpenter's charge from the pole in the beginning. And of course, Tony Kanaan, Marco Andretti, and Ryan Hunter-Reay got themselves to the front and never looked back.
My brother's girlfriend, who came to the race for the first time yesterday, had picked Tony Kanaan to win. It was a wise choice because he can never be counted out, but after so long, I didn't dare to hope. He has always been more than capable, but luck gets in the way. Yesterday, it cleared a path to victory for him. No driver brings more people to their feet by taking the lead. Everyone was behind him yesterday; we always have been. Finally, it was his turn. I'd be hard pressed to find someone who deserves it more. It seemed the field was in agreement, giving him congratulations from the cockpit and stopping his victory lap to hug him.
This is our race. This is our series. Some people want to see crashes, and rivalries, and trading paint, and green-white-checkereds. If that's what you like, then you've come to the wrong place, because the Indianapolis 500 is much bigger than all of that. People give everything they have to try to win here, and that can bring out the worst in them. What I see in most of our drivers, though, is that it brings out the best. There is fraternity in loving this race. Those thirty-three drivers may be competing against each other, but they are still somehow in it together. They race side by side, but give each other room. They all want to win, but they are bonded by that desire. And they can appreciate talent and determination in those they are trying to beat just as much as they could in the drivers they grew up watching.
For over a century, this peerless test of machine, skill, and perseverance has fulfilled dreams and dashed hopes. It has propelled careers and created legends. Sometimes we forget how powerful it really is, but yesterday brought it all back to the forefront. Records were broken, proof that auto racing is still about progress. They stayed clean because we're here for speed and not destruction. Thousands of spectators and thirty-three drivers congratulated Tony Kanaan because a man who worked harder than anyone finally saw it pay off. In the end, I cried tears of joy, and I wasn't the only one.
This is the Indianapolis 500, the Greatest Spectacle in Racing.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
Taking the Green
I love windmills for the same reason I love race cars; they somehow have the same spirit. They are larger than life. They are testaments to progress. They're neat looking. And they give me endless hope for the future.
There are layers upon layers of things to love about racing, and many of the things that make this sport special to me, I got from my family. In a perfect world, I would never let the month of May pass without getting to see my aunts and uncles in Indianapolis and listening to them talk about the old days. One of the highlights of Indy weekend is seeing the vintage cars out on the track. I do love my DW12, and I also love knowing that one day, I'll see a DW12 the same way my dad sees a March. The roadsters of the fifties and sixties, which look positively ancient now, were the cars of my great aunts and uncles' generation. Tradition is a significant part of all of this.
Racing traditions--the personal and the universal--began long ago and are still being made. But there is one that stands out from the rest, because it has been there from the beginning: the tradition of being every that's good about innovation. Racing has always been the testing ground for new technology that can be applied to our daily lives. This progress has always been an intensely beautiful thought to me. It's like the feeling I get when I land a window seat on a plane, right on top of the wing, and I get to see it rise up from the ground. It's proof that humans are capable of defying every accepted definition of possible.
In times like these, it is crucial that we push innovation in racing. We are facing a global climate crisis. This past winter pushed this crisis to the very front of my mind. Though some people got plenty of snow, many of us were sweating. Here in North Carolina, temperatures often reached the seventies.
Climate change has always been an issue of concern for me. But we're no longer talking about what will happen if we don't make a change. We're watching it happening. The ship is leaving the harbor. People of my generation are now having to prepare for huge changes in the not-so-distant future. It's easier to brush it off as a hoax than it is to face the problem head on, because it is, in a word, terrifying. But it doesn't have to be. We can fix it. We don't have to sit idly by. Why shouldn't auto racing lead the charge? Our future can be greener, cleaner, and more beautiful. It makes sense that the fastest route there is with the fastest cars on earth.
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