Motorsport: why the Rolex 24 is the best spectator event around

As I stood on pit road before the 60th running of the Rolex 24 Hours at Daytona International Speedway, I watched as some of the world’s best race cars and drivers waded through a thick crowd of fans in the infield. Everything was right there, right within reach — and everyone buzzed about the monumental event in front of us.

But what made the Rolex so special wasn’t its fame or prestige. It was its allure as a sporting event that could be anything I wanted it to be.

Photography: Alanis King

The Rolex 24 is one of the most iconic 24-hour races in the world, where humans and machines relentlessly test their endurance, ingenuity, and strength over the course of an entire day. Others include the Nürburgring 24 Hours and the 24 Hours of Le Mans, whose fame transcended the motorsports world and onto the big screen in Ford v. Ferrari.

Multiple drivers race in each car at the Rolex, swapping in and out for their driving stints as their crews complete all kinds of routine and surprise maintenance — swapping and refilling fuel, tyres, brakes, body panels, and the like — to keep the cars running without any real pause.

Likewise, multiple classes of race car compete, meaning speeds are different all around the track: spaceship-like prototypes zoom past GT cars, creating races within and between divisions.

As day turns into night (and into day again) at the Rolex, you’ll see a wider range of emotions and states of human existence in 24 hours than some people will experience in years. If you’re lucky enough, maybe you’ll even experience those emotions yourself.

As a longtime motorsports fan and reporter, I always knew this. But at the Rolex 24, it all became more real.

Long before the early hours of the morning rolled around — when I’d walk by crew members sleeping on the concrete of their pit stalls in freezing temperatures and spectators singing loud, restless karaoke in the infield — the monumental nature of the event set in. This was real, this was exciting, and I was here to see it.

The Rolex started as most car races do: everyone gathered to watch the field take the green flag at 1.40pm local time, with dozens of race cars thundering onto the Daytona road course for the first of many times over the next 24 hours.

But instead of watching every lap intently like we might have done with a shorter race, there came a time when everyone got up to wander around and explore — whether they headed to the pits, the garages, the general infield, or the snack bar.

I did all of those things, as I’m sure many people did. I stopped by the Vasser Sullivan pit tents to visit my friend Bozi Tatarevic, who lent me some Oreos and a vantage point to take photos of pit stops and cars heading down the front stretch.

The cars weren’t just within arm’s reach while pitting (disclaimer: don’t reach for moving race cars). As they fired up to leave their stalls, their roaring exhausts practically spit on us.

I eventually wandered to a spot on a viewing platform in the first turn of the track, setting up my camera to photograph the field as dozens of cars screeched by me every minute. As the sun faded behind Daytona’s grandstands, I’d never felt more energised. The race was just getting started.

The Rolex 24 was a cold one this year, and everyone showed up in layers. For me, it was two pairs of trousers, two long-sleeve shirts, and two coats. But as the sun went down, temperatures dipped toward freezing, and red blotches formed on my face from the chill, I barely noticed. I was too absorbed in the experience.

I eventually left Daytona around 1am — not because I was tired or cold, necessarily, but because sleeping for a few hours that night seemed like the thing a practical adult would do. I settled into my hotel room while race cars echoed in the distance, as they would all night. That’s when the adrenaline wore off and the cold finally set in.

I climbed into bed with my teeth chattering, pressing hand warmers to my face to try to feel alive. I thought about the crews just a few blocks away, huddled in the freezing temperatures and getting a few minutes of sleep in their tents between each pit stop. They still had 12 hours to go.

But when I got back the next day, everyone was anew with energy. They’d made it through the hardest part of the race — those lonely hours before the sun comes up, when everything is cold and most normal people are dead to the world — and the most entertaining was yet to come: the finish.

The finish was a great one, too. Final-stint drivers Helio Castroneves and Ricky Taylor fought back and forth for the victory in the top DPi class, while Mathieu Jaminet and Laurens Vanthoor, both racing Porsche 911 GT3 Rs, fought so hard to win the GTD Pro class that they ran each other off track near the end of the race.

Both Jaminet and Vanthoor recovered from the contact, to varying degrees — they finished first and third in their class, respectively.

But the Rolex 24 didn’t need an exciting finish to hook me as a spectator. It gave me the freedom to do what I wanted, when I wanted, without worrying about missing half of the race. No matter what I did, there’d still be many hours to go when I returned.

That’s the beauty of a 24-hour event like the Rolex. Not only is every race a historic test of willpower and ability to survive the night, but it’s a masterclass in giving spectators the freedom to come and go — to choose their own adventure, if you will.

Even after 24 hours, it’s impossible to get tired of that.