I Went to an IMSA Race and Became an Endurance Junkie
“We came here for the first time last year without them. Big mistake.”
That’s what the gentleman told me when he handed me a pair of orange earplugs in a little plastic bag. Bless that man, but we’ll get back to that part of the tale later.
This year has become the year I fell in love with Hypercars. Can you blame me? After the demise of the LMP1 category in endurance racing series around the world, a renaissance followed thanks to famous marques like Ferrari, Toyota, Cadillac, BMW, Porsche, and other major players who’ve gotten involved. Due to these developments, the competition is as intense and consuming as ever, with even more teams like Alpine and Lamborghini set to enter the fray next year.
That’s why, upon realizing that IMSA’s Chevrolet Grand Prix was just a few days away, I figured it was time to see these beautiful machines in person while I had the chance.
My brother and I arrived at the circuit at around 10:30 a.m. and immediately walked into the paddock amid a buzzing crowd of fans. From the moment we set foot on the grounds, the access we had to the garage area exceeded all expectations. Before we’d even caught our breath, we watched as mechanics toiled on their cars while engineers had intense discussions with their drivers. As fans, we were practically able to walk right up to them and take as close a look as we dared, as if we’d been handed VIP passes. All we’d done is pay the $60 to get in. We were in the thick of it, and the race hadn’t even begun.
From there, over to the pit lane we strolled, dodging team and track personnel as they buzzed around in preparation for the green flag. Thankfully for us, for the next hour, fans were given even more access to the cars and drivers during the Fan Walk. We went up and down the bustling pit lane, taking pictures of every race car our wide eyes could find, and there were plenty to keep us entranced. Some of the fastest, most beautiful machines in the world were right there in front of us. It didn’t feel like we were worthy of being in their presence. Yet there they were.
What struck me most about these Hypercars, oddly enough, was their size. As a lifelong racing fan, I’ve always been aware that race cars, as beastly as they are, are made to be quite compact. The lighter and more trimmed down, the better. But these things? In person? They were far smaller than they appear on TV. They looked like the size of the track-day car your neighbour Gary might be building in his garage; only these were million-dollar machines built and cared for by companies like Penske, Andretti, Meyer Shank, and Rahal Letterman. It was eye-opening to see that much engineering stuffed into such a small machine.
We also encountered some interesting folks in the pit lane. Jordan Taylor, Corvette legend, was within arms reach, chatting with fans and team members alike. Bozi Tatarevic, pit crew member for Vasser Sullivan who has risen to social media fame thanks to his deep technical knowledge, was guarding his team’s Lexus RC F as we shuffled by their pit box. The most random encounter, though, had to be when we heard, and then saw, former Toronto Maple Leafs goaltender Glenn Healy belting out a regal-sounding song on the bagpipes during the opening ceremonies. My old man would’ve loved to have seen that one with his own eyes.
Then it was time. We crossed the pedestrian bridge that looms over the start-finish straight and made our way onto the grass, parking ourselves directly across from the pit lane. From there, we unfolded our lawn chairs, the engines wailed in full song, and my life changed forever.
You could feel it in your chest. The grunt of each car, urgently pursuing the next with every passing lap, was all-consuming. Otherworldly. Heavenly, even. However, after a few laps had gone by, I realized I’d made a crucial mistake. I forgot my earplugs at home.
And then, an angel appeared. An angel wearing a papaya-coloured McLaren hat tapped me on the shoulder, having noticed that I had my fingers plugged in my ears. He handed me a pair of earplugs and my brother another set before he and his pals parked their chairs beside ours for the next three hours. And you know what? That was cool, and part of what makes the racing community a special one.
As for where we sat, it was a fantastic vantage point. After taking in the first few laps as close to the trackside fencing as possible, we made the short hike up the hill behind us and claimed our spot, one that provided a hypnotic view of The Esses and Whites Corner, the final complex, before drivers charged toward the line to begin another lap.
Here’s the part where I embarrassingly remind you that, after nearly 30 years of being a racing fan, this was the first motor race I’ve ever attended in person. I’ve even walked the entirety of Circuit Gilles Villeneuve in Montréal—another day I’ll never forget—but never attended the Canadian Grand Prix there. Hence, up until now, I’d always considered racing to be, from a fan perspective, a made-for-TV sport. I believed for years that it must have been so difficult to keep track of what was happening at the circuit if you were seated at one corner, with no view of nearly 90% of the playing surface. Imagine paying hundreds of dollars to watch a basketball game and only being able to see one baseline. Who would sign up for that? But as for motorsport, I was wrong.
It was remarkably easy and enjoyable to follow the race, know who was leading, and know what was happening around the circuit. Speakers were conveniently positioned throughout the grounds, providing us with access to the radio broadcast hosted by John Hindhaugh and Jeremy Shaw, whose commentary echoed out to us all day long. Shea Adam also provided updates from the pit lane, making it easy to understand why certain cars were pitting and what strategies teams were employing throughout the race.
One of the many great views we had from the start-finish straight at Canadian Tire Motorsport Park
And the race itself? As entertaining as we could have hoped for. The Acuras were the fastest all day in the Hypercar class, but a handful of full-course cautions led to some alternating strategies, giving the Whelen Engineering Cadillac of Pipo Derani and Alexander Sims a shot at contending late. Still, it was Tom Blomqvist and Colin Braun who aced it in their Meyer Shank Racing Acura, while fierce battles in the LMP3 and GT classes added to the intensity throughout the entire field.
After the checkered flag, we made our way back through the garage area, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with 2nd-place finishers Filipe Albuquerque and Ricky Taylor on their way to the podium celebrations—yet another pinch-me moment. Really, the entire day was a moment where the surreal nature of it all smacked me dead in the face. It also reminded me that the men and women who drive these rocket ships for a living are also people like you and me, just going about their day, celebrating their wins, and feeling the pain of their stumbles as they happen. And maybe this is why people love motorsport.
I could be wrong in saying this because I have nothing else to compare my experience to, but you’d be hard pressed to get that much access to the behind-the-scenes action of a racing series this big anywhere else. We touched used tires. Watched drivers chat with their friends. Saw team members pour over every minute detail before sending their cars away into battle. I doubt you can do that at an F1 race with a general admission ticket, and I’ll happily pay $60 to do it all again next year.