Tell Us Your Most Awesome Motorsport Memory

Photo courtesy of Pat Hoffstetter
Photo courtesy of Pat Hoffstetter
Photo: Patrick Hoffstetter
CountersteerYour true stories of good and bad things that happen in cars.

May is one of the most incredible months in motorsport for a lot of race fans. Some of the biggest events of the year take place in May for Formula One, NASCAR, and IndyCar, and it’s the time of year that a lot of us look back on fondly as the first time we really understood the particular thrill that got you hooked on racing. So it seems like a pretty fitting time to get a little nostalgic.

And so I want to know: what’s the most magical memory you have of motorsport? When’s the first time you realized you absolutely, positively, wholeheartedly adored this particular form of racing? It doesn’t have to have taken place in May—hell, it doesn’t even have to be your first experience with motorsport. But I want to spread some love and revel in those memories that made you realize “yeah, I made a really good choice”.

For me, personally—I’m tied between two memories. The first is all those vague impressions that May gives me. It’s my birth month, so that simple word, “May”, brings back all those sense impressions: the taste of birthday cake, the smell of lilacs blooming, sheer joy at receiving an electric Jeep to cruise around in, and watching the Indy 500 with bated breath to see who would be the next champion of the Speedway. I fell out of motorsport for a while, so another particular favorite happened recently, when I watched the start of the 2015 Austrian Grand Prix on the side of a mountain. I’d traveled across a whole damn ocean and roadtripped from Munich to camp with three people I’d only ever met before on Twitter to experience the beauty of Formula One cars. Nothing will ever really quite top how beautiful that whole weekend was for me, especially when I was popping open a bottle of champagne we’d smuggled into the track for 7am mountainside mimosas with three people who ended up becoming some of my best friends.


But I want to know what your memories are. Share the love! Dig out those old family photo albums and send pictures! Spread a little bit more of that May magic.

Weekends at Jalopnik. Managing editor at A Girl's Guide to Cars. Lead IndyCar writer and assistant editor at Frontstretch. Novelist. Motorsport fanatic.

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This one is easy (it’s a bit left-field so bear with me) :

Getting in a fight outside an Indian takeaway and a nightclub in Doncaster in, I’d say, the very late 80's. Some idiots were piling on a drunk, but big and brave, guy. Me and my brother jumped in, to his aid, though he probably didn’t need our help, as it became clear.

Oh, who was the guy?

Just a highly inebriated, still capable of dishing it out, James Hunt. And only moments afterwards, heading to a bar, he didn’t even remember being in a fight.

RIP you crazy awesome superman.