Staying awake for 24 Hours of Le Mans
A magical symphony of sound fills the morning air as the sun rises somewhere beyond the tents and trailers scattered in the grass.
Like an orchestra of mechanical violins, each note is suspended in the sky before being overpowered by the next draw of the bow, the tune as rhythmic as it is powerful. The area is eerily silent otherwise, a far cry from the cacophony created by the throngs of revellers that were here just hours ago. But they’ll be back. And when they get here, the party will start all over again.
This is the 24 Hours of Le Mans, considered by many — including yours truly — to be the Mecca of motorsport. For one weekend each year, hundreds of thousands of fans, mostly from across France, Britain and Germany, make the pilgrimage to this unassuming area outside Paris to celebrate the gruelling test of both man and machine. And this year, I was one of them.
Attending the 24 Hours of Le Mans has been on my bucket list since before I even knew what a bucket list was. Some of the biggest names in racing have earned their stripes at the so-called Grand Prix of Endurance and Efficiency, cementing its place in motorsport lore. So, when my boss graciously forwarded me an invite from Porsche to attend this year’s race, I set the ambitious goal of staying awake for the entire thing. When in Le Mans, right?
Setting out the morning of race day from a hotel room not much bigger than a postage stamp, it seemed, I am filled with the type of nervous excitement usually reserved for preteens heading to their first pop concert. I was on my way to the Circuit de la Sarthe, home to 13.6 kilometres of some of the most infamous twists and turns in all of endurance racing.
Stepping off the tram shortly after noon, I make my way to the main gate where I am greeted by a surprisingly small crowd snaking its way through the security line. Could European races be afflicted by the same declining attendance we’re experiencing on this side of the Atlantic? It doesn’t take long for the answer to present itself. As I climb a short, grass-covered hill in hopes of finding my bearings, I am struck by what I can see. To my left, endless rows of camping, a makeshift village of motorsport fandom at its finest. And dead ahead, beyond an unused portion of the Bugatti Circuit, the Dunlop Bridge; my portal to the promised land.
The crowds are as thick as French onion soup as I step off the famed foot bridge and onto the backside of the start-finish line. The passion is palpable here, fans decked out in 100 Euro shirts supporting their favourite race team, the occasional flag sprouting up above the sea of bobbing heads and beer cans.
In a scene fit for a German stereotype, the mood at Porsche HQ is far more formal. Spirits are, however, as high as the collective hopes for yet another strong showing for the automaker’s top-flight LMP1 team, as well as the pair of factory-backed 911 RSRs running in the GTE Pro class. For the LMP1cars, back-to-back victories in 2015 and 2016 had the team searching for the illustrious hat-trick — no easy feat with a trio of Toyota TS050 Hybrids standing in the way.
I have a race strategy of my own if I’m to make it through the entire 24-hour event. Arriving on the eve of race day left me with precious little time to prepare for the punishment I planned to inflict upon myself, and so I have to keep moving if I want to stave off sleep. After staying put for the start of the race, I venture out once again into the crowds.
More than 250,000 spectators turn out for the race each year, making it one of the most-attended annual sporting events in the world. Like any other sporting event, the view from your couch is hard to beat, with replays, close-ups and commentary shedding light on what’s going on. However, unless you can cram a quarter-million of your closest friends into your living room, you’ll never rival the atmosphere of actually being here.
The people are what make the 24 Hours of Le Mans experience so infectious — from the ones flocking to the ferris wheel to catch a glimpse of the entire circuit, to the child perched atop her dad’s shoulders, perking up each time a car passes by — with even the most fair-weather fan finding it hard to resist. Not everyone here is an enthusiast, yet you’d be hard-pressed to find folks watching with anything short of enthusiasm as even a single car roars by.
The beer-drinking revellers are mostly gone midway through the race, succumbing to the combination of sun and suds. Those who are left are the people that are paid to be here — the teams and their support staff, as well as all the folks working to keep the event running through the night — and the ones that want to be here.
The ensuing hours are filled with a calmness that’s as surreal as it is welcome. Like the eye of a storm, it stands in stark contrast to the furious nature of the 24-hour sports car race that’s going on around me. And it’s in these few hours that I see the event in its most beautiful form.
Strolling the grounds of the Circuit de la Sarthe, it’s not as difficult as it may seem to stay stimulated at virtually all hours. From the action on the track to the midway rides and fairlike atmosphere, there’s so much to keep your attention that it borders on sensory overload. But it’s enjoyable. Of course, walking too far or too fast will have the same effect as sitting still, and so I must tread carefully or suffer the consequences. Two more double espresso shots are in order — where’s the IV drip when I need it? — as I push through the night.
It’s the wee hours of the morning now, and there are just a few of us milling around as the sun makes its way into the summer sky for yet another scorching hot day. I park myself on a couch in Porsche’s suite to download the photos I shot at sunset onto my computer — and then I remember nothing. The hour feels like the blink of an eye, but it’s all but unavoidable as I approach my 20th hour without sleep. I crash. Hard. Like a prolonged pit stop late in the race, there’s nothing I can do but hope this nap gives me a boost.
There’s a tangible change in mood as I awake, the race’s end creeping closer and closer. For some, it’s the feeling of hope that what hours remained will go off without a hitch; others, no doubt, are simply hopeful it will end.
In the end, it’s a result few would have predicted just hours earlier. Against all odds, the No. 2 Porsche 919 storms back from nearly a dozen laps down to claim the win, giving the automaker its 19th overall victory at the 24 Hours of Le Mans, and a hat trick that looked nearly impossible until the waning hours. After celebrating the victory with Porsche for a while, I leave the circuit the same way I arrived; a sparsely populated tram ride through the city, with little evidence of the festivities that had just taken place. But they’ll be back. And it will be awesome when they get here. Until next year.