The Daytona 500 Is Decadent & Depraved

I missed an earlier flight to Orlando and didn’t arrive to my destination until damned near midnight. In doing so, I missed all of my meetings with Valvoline and a chance to drink beer with a bunch of people from Hendrick Motorsports. I reasoned at the time that it was probably for the best as it’s never polite to drink your hosts under the table. Plus, how appropriate is it really to dance on tables with the people you are supposed to have a professional relationship with? Bullet dodged.

The next morning we woke up early and filed onto a bus headed for the track. The hour long trip from downtown Orlando to Daytona was a somber one. I could tell my colleagues were fighting hard to keep the previous night down. I smiled knowingly the entire trip.

But once we got to the outfield of the famous Speedway, my certainty faded. I began to wonder just what in the hell I got myself into once we passed the fifth or sixth topless hillbilly proudly waving the flag of a side that lost. I looked around the bus and nobody seemed to be ducking for cover or grabbing arms in preparation for a fight, so I figured I was good. I pressed on without a smile, but with a suspicious and cautious smirk.

Soon we crossed under the track and into the infield where an entirely new mob of people awaited. The center of the track was lined with million dollar RVs – these too had flags, but most were just waving numbers of the drivers they supported. It reminded me a little bit of a college football tailgate – only more decadent and perhaps even more passionate.

(Editor’s note: This entry is being written as I travel from Orlando to Texas and updated as wifi allows during the trip. This pause in the “action” represents my flight to Miami from Orlando. I’m picking up again as I hop on a WIFI enabled plane headed for Texas.)

The bus dropped us off at a Valvoline sponsored hospitality trailer that’s actually owned by a HAMBer (word up Chad). The trailer itself came with all the comforts needed to enjoy a 500 – food, TV’s, race monitors, and most importantly, plenty of beer. On top of the trailer was a viewing deck that provided one of the better views of the action. Even so, in plain view was maybe 70% of turn 3 and another 15% of turn 4. The rest of the race would have to be watched from one of the many TV’s or the portable race monitors shaped like ipads.

In any case, once we got all set with hospitality it was time to take a tour of the pits. It was here really that I think I got my most intimate look at what NASCAR racing really might be these days. To put it bluntly and shortly, I was shocked with what I saw.

I entered the pits with a Valvoline provided pit pass and took a tour with the rest of the Team Valvoline guests. During that tour, which went down only a couple of hours before the green flag dropped, I was able to walk right up to any car I’d like, shoot the shit with just about any crew member from any team, and even rub elbows with people like Jimmy Johnson and Dale Jr… The accessibility was nothing short of amazing and this wasn’t some fancy pit pass that only exclusive people can get their hands on. In fact, any schmuck like me can buy one and while I don’t know the price of such a thing, it was clear by the size of the crowd within the pits that they couldn’t be too terribly pricy.

At one point, I was browsing the garage area and stumbled across a small area dedicated to Kyle Busch’s team and car. Kyle’s car sat up on jack stands while two guys made a quick fix of some rear bumper body damage. Not sure how the damage came to be pre-race, but these two fellas were beating out the lumps and hiding the evidence with some body matched vinyl wrap.

It turned out that one of those guys was a HAMBer (which blew me away), but even more crazy was the fact that I was standing less than a foot from them while they worked to secure a world class race car.

(Editors Note: Time to get on my flight to Austin. Hopefully, I will be updating this in a bit…)

As I sat there and watched with amazement, another tour strolled by. I heard a man describing the garage situation to a group of older women. They threw out a few ridiculous questions and the man patiently answered while signing some kid’s hat. It was Dale Jr. giving a tour of the pits to god knows who… mere hours from risking his life on the same track that took his father’s.

After the tour, we went back to the hospitality trailer where Chad had lunch waiting. I took mine with a few beers and then prepared to get settled in for the race. Maybe ten minutes later Jimmy Johnson walked up and just… well, pretty much started hanging out with us. He answered a few questions, signed a few babies, and then headed off to get suited up for the race.

Again, I was shocked… I mean, homeboy is pretty much the Michael Jordan of this sport and there he was – shaking my hand, shooting the shit, and doing it all without seeming the least bit annoyed.

Soon after, the race started. The opening lap was breathtaking. A trip down to the infield fence along the track was too… But honestly, I quickly lost interest and took up some heavy drinking to pass the time. NASCAR has instituted some new point rules that have somehow broken the race up into sessions of sorts. They’ve done this in support of their fairly new “playoff” system. A NASCAR marketing guy told me that all of it was designed to make NASCAR more relevant and to create new and fresh story lines.

I heard a couple of the diehard NASCAR fans mention that they liked these changes and were excited for the future, but as a casual spectator taking in a NASCAR event for the first time in decades, I found it all to be a bit more complex than it needed to be. I like the idea of the race itself being a single goal that all the teams reach for with differing strategies. I am, after all, pretty damned simple minded.

But really, NASCAR marketing is not what I wanted to write about after this trip. When I first decided to attend, I did so because I always wanted to recreate Hunter Thompson’s “The Kentucky Dirby Is Decadent & Depraved” piece from 1970. I figured the Daytona 500 would be the perfect parallel for my version and I was actually really excited to make it happen – even if it wasn’t on-topic to TJJ. And believe me, there were some opportunities to do just that. I saw more naked men this weekend than I liked… but ultimately, what struck me most about the Daytona 500 is how close it could really be to something as wonderful as racing was in 1940’s, 50’s, and even 60’s.

I have a lot of experience at race tracks. I’ve driven a few myself and I’ve attended the Indianapolis 500, the 24 Hours of LeMans, Monaco, Baja, and countless others. And in that time, I’ve never seen a race as accessible as what I saw this weekend. Of course, I wasn’t around to see the stock cars attack Daytona Beach in 1952 but I gotta think if I was and getting Marshall Teague’s autograph was a priority, it would have happened. Similarly, I could have probably shot the shit with any driver in the field yesterday had I really wanted too… And to me, that’s a fantastic thing about a sport with a whole lot of modern flaws.

An afterward of sorts:

1. I was incredibly fortunate to be invited by Team Valvoline to attend the 500. And this invitation gave me a lot of access that probably cost a lot of others a ton of coin. I get that, respect it, and appreciate it. However, I wasn’t given any access that you can’t buy yourself without a relationship to anyone in NASCAR. Point being, if this is something you are truly passionate about, you can make it happen. You can’t do that in F1 or IRL.
2. Right before the green flag went down, I found myself in a great conversation with a member of Hendrick Motorsports. I’m going to paraphrase here, but he was very quick to point out that while NASCAR might limit the technology they can use as teams, the people they employee are every bit as talented and every bit as dedicated as the guys that crew other teams in other forms of racing. I saw a lot of evidence to support that. A whole lot.
3. And finally, this entry of mine turned out to be completely off topic to The Jalopy Journal. I apologize for that. As I said, I’m writing this while traveling and due to lack of time/wifi, I haven’t written in my normal fashion. This piece is quite litterally a stream of conscieceness that got away from me. Tomorrow, we will get back to traditional hot rodding.

Until then, enjoy this great film from the 1952 running at Daytona Beach: