Strange Highways

Back in 1998, before anyone had come up with a term for writing an online journal, I'd written this column that I'm pretty sure no one ever read about a rather controversial finish to a NASCAR road race at Watkins Glen. And as I watched events transpire last night at Road America, I started thinking of that day's crazy twists and turns once again.

I really like NASCAR road racing. Most of my friends laugh at the thought of NASCAR drivers, paid to turn left for a living, trying to turn right. The fact is that most of the top drivers have attended one road-racing school or the other over the years, or teams have hired road-course specialists as driver coaches. But then you have to factor in that even a modern NASCAR-legal stock car with power steering and nimble handling is not a purpose-built sportscar, and that NASCAR drivers at slower speeds will get physical when necessary. For every smooth, slick display of driving at a road course, you get the '09 Montréal Nationwide Series demolition derby, er, race. It's still a far cry from the days when there were five guys contending for a win and thirty-five others just trying to get their points and get back to an oval.

And that's why NASCAR road racing is fun. Unlike a lot of the cookie-cutter ovals on the schedule these days, there are plenty of opportunities to pass. It unlocks a test of a driver's flexibility, and puts even more strategy into the pit crew's hands. And since handling, not aerodynamics, is the key to speed, the drivers can get a bit physical if needed, and a banged-up car won't spell the end of the day.

Since I've been watching NASCAR (and actually, since 1989, when Riverside International Raceway was closed up and turned into a shopping mall), NASCAR's top series has raced at only two road courses, the twisty Infineon (Sears Point) Raceway in California and the legendary Watkins Glen International nestled in the Finger Lakes of New York. The Nationwide Series has had a little more variety. For years the Busch Series held their lone road-course event at Watkins Glen, until the track was replaced by a second Daytona race in 2002. The series had no road course dates until 2005, when the schedule boasted companion event to August's Cup race at The Glen and a race at Autodromo Hermanos Rodriguez in Mexico City. In 2007, a third road race was added at Montréal, Québec's famed Circuit Gilles Villeneuve. Mexico City would not return for the 2008 Nationwide Series schedule, but Montréal was very well received in '07 and has been on the schedule ever since.

At the end of the 2009 season, ownership and funding had left the future of the Milwaukee Mile in doubt, and to keep a race in the Wisconsin area, a race was scheduled for 2010 at the nearby Road America facility in Elkhart Lake, WI. Road America is the longest road course on the NASCAR schedules, with each circuit measuring about four miles. The 2010 race at Road America was successful enough to encourage a return in 2011. Adding to the drama was the fact that, as with the year before, the Sprint Cup teams were racing at Infineon the same weekend. With Cup regulars unable to compete for the Nationwide championship, most elected to stay in Sonoma for the weekend, leaving their seats open for plenty of road-course specialists to try their hand at NASCAR racing.

Road-course specialists, often referred to as "ringers" (though not necessarily in a pejorative way), have a long and storied history of involvement in NASCAR. A team not chasing the driver's championship might opt, at a road race, to put a driver behind the wheel who has a career of running road courses. On paper, it makes a lot of sense. In practice, it doesn't always work out so well. A stock car has a much different feel from, well, just about anything designed for road-course racing. And the teams that aren't chasing the driver's championship are usually not exactly the top teams. Of the six road-racing specialists trying to qualify for the Save Mart 350 at Sonoma today, only one, Boris Said, had a car that resembled anything competitive. (I'm not counting drivers like Robby Gordon or Juan Montoya who, though they are road-course specialists, are now full-time NASCAR drivers.) In the Nationwide Series, this is a bit less true; especially with the usual Cup double-dippers opting to race solely at Infineon Raceway, this meant their top-notch cars were in need of drivers for the weekend. Penske Racing tapped Jacques Villeneuve for the #22, Kevin Harvick put Max Papis in the #33, Ron Fellows took the wheel of the JR Motorsports #7, and Michael McDowell (an ARCA winner and former NW/Cup regular, but by way of the Star Mazda Series) took over for Kyle Busch in the #18 Toyota. Carl Edwards was planning to join McDowell at Road America, but after fellow Roush driver Billy Johnson practiced Edwards' car on Friday, Roush and Edwards elected to focus on Sonoma and keep Johnson in the #60 all weekend.

The ringers showed their hand in qualifying, with McDowell, Fellows, Papis, Villeneuve and Johnson all qualifying in the top five. And as the race started, as fans, we were treated to a display of why these guys were picked to race such fast cars. McDowell set sail in the #18, while behind him, Max Papis and Jacques Villeneuve raced aggressively for second and third. Ron Fellows alternated between second and fourth, sometimes in front of the dueling Canadian and Italian, sometimes behind them waiting for both of them to slip. The blocks, the passes, the precision and sometimes the patience, and with Villeneuve particularly the aggression, made for a great early display of racing as the ringers left the series regulars in the dust.

The catch with ringers, of course, is that they're still subject to the same NASCAR penalties as any other driver, and particularly susceptible when they are unaware of a penalty in the first place. Early on, Andrew Ranger (another Quebeçois driving for New England-based NDS Motorsports) was caught speeding on pit road, impeding his progress toward the front. Billy Johnson had troubles on pit road and lost track position under caution, then blew an engine later in the day.

Even the frontrunners were bitten. First, Max Papis was black-flagged for using too many pit stalls to merge into his own. I could see the penalty on a busy pit road, but on an empty pit road, it seemed unwarranted. I was a bit reluctant to say that he even used as many pit stalls as the broadcast team alleged. Papis was bumped to the back of the field for his transgression on the restart.

And on an ensuing restart, Jacques Villeneuve cut down behind the leader crossing the start-finish line, drawing a penalty for "changing lanes before the start-finish line." David Ragan received a penalty for the same action at Daytona, trying to push Trevor Bayne to victory, and Johnny Sauter was black-flagged in the closing laps of the Truck race at Texas for a similar violation. It's one thing to me if a driver were blocking, but on the restart the front two cars were several car-lengths in front of the rest of the field. Ultimately, it meant Villeneuve was back in the field for a penalty, and Ron Fellows was alone out front.

Papis and Villeneuve would eventually overcome their penalties. Villeneuve's championship-caliber pit crew got him back out quickly in the next sequence of pit stops. Max Papis' KHI team went with a strategic gamble, leaving the old tires on the car and topping off fuel to save time. Ultimately, Papis and Villeneuve emerged on the track together, staging another aggressive duel as they carved through slower cars trying to work on fuel strategy. While Papis and Villeneuve battled, Michael McDowell chased down his teammate Brian Scott, who at one point led McDowell by ten seconds while trying to conserve fuel. McDowell carved six seconds from that lead in one lap, then passed Scott the next lap to take the lead with seven laps to go. Ron Fellows was still a way back, with Papis and Villeneuve seeking redemption behind him.

And then Doug Harrington, another road-course ringer in slightly less-capable equipment, went off course in the Kink, leaving debris and sponsor banners strewn across the backstretch with two laps to go.

On the restart, McDowell and Fellows sat on the front row, with Brian Scott and Max Papis behind them. Villeneuve restarted fifth. As the teams came down the frontstretch, Villeneuve pulled out to his right, using the apron of the pit road exit to stage a pass on Brian Scott. The problem is that the pit lane exit merges about where Villeneuve pulled out to pass. Villeneuve hit the grass, then merged back into traffic. It was an Ayrton Senna sort of move; Villeneuve was committed to his pass, and it was up to everyone else if they were going to crash or not.

It wasn't up to them after all. Villeneuve clipped Brian Scott, and Scott's spinning car nudged Max Papis off the track. Papis spun nose-first into the outside wall, his yellow Chevrolet coming to a stop in the gravel pit outside of turn one. "Mad Max" was understandably upset; "I told you the 22 [Villeneuve] was going to do something stupid," he told his crew over the radio. "Great move, Jacques." Both Scott and Papis were dragged out of the gravel pit, and Papis angrily drove his battered car to pit road, where the team tore away the front end sheet metal and sent him on his way a couple laps down.

The second restart pitted McDowell's fast Toyota against Fellows' blue Chevrolet again. In third and fourth place were Turner Motorsports teammates Justin Allgaier and Reed Sorenson, both of whom had run consistently in the top ten, but never threatened the ringers for the win. Neither would be likely to replicate Villeneuve's charge. And then, on the restart, Justin Allgaier got a run into the first turn, passing Ron Fellows for second. McDowell held the lead through the following turns, even as Justin Allgaier closed in on McDowell's bumper.

And that's where the next road-course specialist fell apart.

McDowell blocked Allgaier's sudden charge through turn four, but skated to the outside as they exited the corner. Allgaier cleanly ducked inside and passed McDowell for the lead. McDowell fell back to second, then in the next corner, lost control and skidded to a stop in the grass. The caution flew as cars continued to collide in turns five and six, with Steve Wallace and Eric McClure coming to a stop in the turn and Wallace inexplicably getting out of his car to inspect the damage as cars raced through the mess.

What happened to McDowell? McDowell, of the successful seasons in the Star Mazda Championship and now seated in the best car in the Nationwide Series garage area? It looked as if McDowell had simply overdriven his car in the hopes of keeping the lead. It was the kind of reaction I would expect if McDowell had Jacques Villeneuve breathing down his back. But Justin Allgaier? Justin Allgaier isn't the sort of driver known for intimidation. In another few turns, McDowell would have had the lead back. Instead, he was now eighteenth with minor damage to his Toyota. (Michael would later tweet that he hit fluid on the track through the turns, fluid that may have come from Max Papis' ailing car.)

So now, Justin Allgaier held the lead with one restart left. Justin was about the last driver I expected to see in the lead this late in the going. In the interest of full disclosure, I've been a fan of Justin since he went full-time in ARCA, making me a bit biased on how I wanted this to turn out. But I can even acknowledge that Justin's not known for his road-racing prowess. In his previous five road races in the Nationwide Series, he finished seventeenth at Watkins Glen in '09 and ninth at Montréal in '10, with his other three finishes (two of those, admittedly, due to car failure) outside the top thirty. He does have an ARCA victory at New Jersey Motorsports Park in 2008, but that was a rain-shortened race won on strategy. Either way, I was just hoping for a good points day. Now, here he was leading with two laps to go.

On that restart, Justin looked like he had the field covered if he had enough fuel to make it to the end. Reed Sorenson was holding off Ron Fellows, but neither was able to close in on Allgaier. In fact, when some cars got together and sent Aric Almirola into the gravel trap in turn five, it looked like Justin had it for sure. Almirola was going nowhere fast, so all they had to do was throw the caution and Allgaier could limp on fumes to the finish. But the caution never came. Justin came around turn fourteen, took the white flag, but no caution. Turn one, no caution. Turn two, no caution. Almirola was still sitting in the gravel pit as Allgaier came up the uphill straightaway...and then the caution came out. Over half a lap to go.

And entering turn five, Allgaier's car wouldn't fire. Out of fuel, as...Ron Fellows passed him for the lead?

When the yellow flag came out, Allgaier slowed immediately to caution-flag pace, to stretch his fuel. Reed Sorenson, in second, did the same. But Ron Fellows stayed in the gas and passed Sorenson for second under caution. The video replays showed the corner worker waving the yellow before Fellows completed the pass. When the field came up on Allgaier's stalled car, Fellows came around at speed, passing Allgaier and pulling away from the field and up to the pace car, a good distance ahead. At first, the assumption was that Sorenson, too, had run out of fuel. In fact, he was running, and pulled alongside Fellows when the field finally did reach the pace car, showing his dissatisfaction.

The field crossed the finish line behind the pace car, with Reed Sorenson alongside Ron Fellows, both drivers waving in victory. The broadcast team said that NASCAR had flagged Fellows the race winner, and cut to Jennifer Jo Cobb pushing Justin Allgaier's car back to the pits. Then, the cameras cut back to Sorenson, who was doing donuts on the frontstretch; NASCAR had reversed their decision, and determined that Sorenson was indeed the race winner. It was the third victory for Turner Motorsports in 2011, and in an interesting twist of fortune and fate, in each victory, the winning car (Mark Martin in the #32 at Las Vegas, Allgaier at Chicagoland, and now Sorenson) had led only one lap all day.

Depending on who you cheer for, that last two-lap stretch was one that ranged from strange to downright absurd. As a racing fan, I knew that withholding that last yellow flag was meant to give the fans the most racing they could safely give them, rather than throwing an early yellow and locking the field in for one full pace lap. As a Justin Allgaier fan, I remembered all those cautions thrown over the years for spins or off-course excursions that would prove to be inconsequential, and wondered why they couldn't have thrown the yellow flag as soon as it was evident that the #88 was stuck in the sand trap (in other words, as soon as he got into the sand trap).

And what of Fellows? I like Ron Fellows as a long-time NASCAR road-course specialist, a guy who has been working with General Motors as long as I can remember. But I'm still not sure what he was thinking, passing Reed Sorenson under yellow. I have to assume he thought that Reed was out of fuel. I don't feel like Ron earned the victory in this one, and yet, I'd have rather seen him in victory lane than Reed, who I think of as a displaced Cup driver more than a Nationwide Series regular.

Allgaier was gracious on pit lane, calmly lamenting the bad turn of fortune but praising his team's performance all day. The same was not to be said for Fellows, who disappeared before a post-race interview could be conducted. Disappointingly, interviewers elected not to chase after Jacques Villeneuve, Brian Scott or Max Papis, the latter two of whom expressed their dissatisfaction with Villeneuve on pit road after the race was over.

Road courses are a bit of a wildcard on the NASCAR schedule, and Road America was all of that yesterday. Questionable calls on NASCAR's part, questionable actions on drivers' parts, a couple drivers no one would expect to contend and one of them coming away with the victory. We'll see if Sears Point can offer more of the same today.

When "Classic" Loses Its Luster...

I was up at New Hampshire Motor Speedway this weekend. This time, it wasn't for anything NASCAR-related. Instead, I joined my best friend Carmine for a couple hours of motorcycle racing, something far more up his alley than mine. The weekend's action, branded as the 88th Loudon Classic, has traditionally been one of the cornerstones of Laconia Motorcycle Week, an annual celebration of motorcycles that draws visitors from across the country to New Hampshire's Lakes Region to share their passion with other motorcycle enthusiasts. Bike Week is a controversial staple of New Hampshire tourism; critics point to the stigmas of gang behavior and lewd activity that follow motorcycle culture, and supporters praise the opportunity to share their love of motorcycles in a welcoming atmosphere. (To be fair, the event is much tamer than it was when I was a kid.)

The atmosphere of the Loudon Classic has changed, too. In its heyday, the Loudon Classic was an AMA-sanctioned race, the oldest motorcycle race in America. At one point, the Loudon Classic welcomed 35,000 fans to the track. This weekend, the track estimated attendance at just under 10,000 over two days of racing. Plenty of reasons could have been cited; the race was a week later than last year, there wasn't much advertising, and even the Classic itself was moved to Saturday under concerns that fans would want to head home Sunday for Father's Day.

The biggest change, of course, is that the AMA no longer sanctions the Loudon Classic, having withdrawn sanctioning some years ago due to safety concerns about the track. The motorcycles race on New Hampshire Motor Speedway's road course, a temporary 1.6-mile layout that incorporates parts of the oval and a lengthy loop outside the backstretch. The concern was that the premier AMA sportbikes were simply too fast and powerful for a compact temporary track. With the current AMA Pro Road Racing circuit competing at large purpose-built road courses like Road America and Laguna Seca, the NHMS road course seems a bit outclassed.

The loss of the AMA sanction is nothing new. But without the backing of a national body like the AMA, the prestige and the excitement of featuring some of the world's best motorcycle racers is missing. Instead, the weekend's events are locally-sanctioned and feature local talent. Even the "Loudon Classic" itself was little more than a twenty-lap race, halted after fourteen laps when the red flag was thrown for an incident on the track. It would be like hosting a few privateers in a short race at Indy Raceway Park and telling everyone it was the Indy 500.

And so on Sunday, a bunch of professional motorcycle racers showcased their skills to a nearly-empty grandstand. We were only there for a couple hours, but in that time I can say there were a lot more cars and motorcycles going than coming, and not much traffic from the south on Route 106 headed to the track. As for the on-track action, Carmine and I enjoyed ourselves, but I can say with some certainty that neither of our girlfriends (who, admittedly, are not racing fans) were terribly entertained. I would venture to say there was a greater buzz of activity in the pit area, where the friends and family of competitors would surely be hanging out.

So on a race weekend where the emptiness of the grandstands eclipsed the quality of the racing in my memory, one has to wonder, how much longer can this go on?

It's a dark question that has come up in motorsports more times than I can remember in the last ten years. Motor racing of any sort is an expensive endeavor for all involved. For the teams, the costs are high, the risks are high, and at anything but the highest echelons of motorsport, the winnings are a pittance. For track owners and promoters, one can only imagine the cost of operating and insuring a facility where people go dangerously fast separated by about fifteen feet and a chainlink fence from a bunch of drunk fans watching people go dangerously fast. The key, of course, is the presence of the fans. Fans buy tickets and support the venue. Fans support the sponsors that pay the bills for the teams.

Empty grandstands don't buy tickets. Empty grandstands don't support sponsors. And in any spectator event, whether baseball or hockey or motor racing, empty grandstands will only be tolerated so long. When Rockingham Speedway, Atlanta Motor Speedway and Auto Club Speedway could no longer fill the grandstands, they had race dates written off the schedule, moved to tracks where seats were selling out. Even the venerable Darlington Raceway, a longtime staple on the NASCAR schedules, lost a race date when ticket sales were weak. Sentimental ties and history only last so long. This is, after all, a business.

How long can history alone save the Loudon Classic?

Part of the problem is that the Loudon Classic's place on the Bike Week itinerary is shaky at best. The origins of Laconia Motorcycle Week trace back to the days of the motorcycle "gypsy tours" that stopped in Laconia for a long weekend, while travelers organized motorcycle races and hillclimbs. From those races came the Loudon Classic, though the races were an element of the rally itself. Since then, Bike Week has gained its own identity, after struggling to break the negative stigma of gang-related fights and activities that colored some events in the mid-1960s. These days, Bike Week is more a celebration of biker culture, of tattoos and leather and southern rock and country and tricked-out cruiser motorcycles. The hub of the action is Weirs Beach, a strip in Laconia lined with bars, restaurants, live music and the boardwalk arcade that opposes the pier on Lake Winnipesaukee. For most Bike Week attendees, the fact that there are sportbikes racing a few miles south of Laconia never falls on the radar; it's a different sort of culture. Bike Week and the Loudon Classic are no longer two integral events; they're just two events that happen to fall on the same week on the calendar.

And as a stand-alone event, the Loudon Classic is far from a star-studded affair. I don't mean that to be critical of grassroots and local racing. But from a promotions standpoint, and I say this as a fan and not someone who's attended the RPM sessions in Daytona, if you're going to promote a big annual event, you want there to be something notable about it. A few weeks ago, I went to Star Speedway in Epping, NH, for a touring-type Modified race that was scheduled to draw some of the NASCAR Whelen Modified Tour drivers, including Ted Christopher. I don't normally go to Star's weekly shows, but having TC, Ryan Preece and Mike Stefanik (who actually was a no-show) on the night's card put my butt in the grandstands that Saturday night. On any other night, you're most likely to attract the diehards and the fans who know someone on the track that evening.

By contrast, the events scheduled for the Loudon Classic weekend featured a combination of sidecar racers, Legends cars, plus the Loudon Road Racing Series and American SportBike Racing motorcycle events. That's a fine card to draw the local diehard fan base and the friends-and-family attendees. But if you want to draw big numbers, you need something to draw casual fans. To his credit, NHMS general manager Jerry Gappens, who took control after Speedway Motorsports bought the track, has been courting the AMA to see if they would entertain a return to NHMS. The AMA left over safety concerns with the track, though, and it seems unlikely to me that Speedway Motorsports is going to put a lot of money into improving the temporary road course at a venue that makes most of its money from three big weekends of oval-track racing, especially considering the capital improvements they've made across the track grounds since 2008. But Jerry Gappens has a point, that the success of the Classic will be dependent upon more than the friends and family of a few local racers.

Maybe one alternative, though it may be a bit far-fetched, could be rechristening the Loudon Classic as an open-competition motorcycle race. Put up a high-profile purse, and invite not only veterans and rookies from the local motorcycle clubs, but also ASRA racers from other regions, AMA racers and maybe even a couple MotoGP stars. This is the sort of formula behind The Dream at Eldora Speedway, a race that pays enough money and fame to win that dirt racers from across the country flock to Eldora in hopes of qualifying, never mind winning. Actually, it's probably more similar to the Prelude to The Dream all-star race held a few days before The Dream. I'm guessing that most professional motorcycle racers would hesitate to put their careers on the line to race in a non-points, winner-takes-most contest. But I think that having a driver with the name recognition of, say, Valentino Rossi would go a long way toward putting butts in the seats.

Either way, if nothing changes, I can't imagine this event staying on life support much longer. Jerry Gappens went on record in the Union Leader saying that he doesn't want to be "the guy who ends the longest running motorcycle race." I sympathize with Jerry; as a track manager and promoter, he has the challenge of drawing fans to each and every event and keeping NHMS in the news. If he has to write a poorly-attended race off the schedule, there will surely be some fan backlash. But race tracks are expensive to operate for a weekend, and even with reduced staff and only key services open (the track's concession booths were closed on Sunday), there have to be enough ticket sales to justify keeping the track open. Ultimately, it's going to be a business decision; a race cannot run at a loss forever.

It's surely a tragedy when someone holds a race and no one shows up to watch. But it could be a bigger tragedy if the race disappeared off next year's schedule and no one noticed.