It’s only two weeks into May, but the chatter surrounding the Indianapolis 500 is already on high volume. Talk of new engines, new body styles, new drivers. Anymore, many people don’t think twice about the race, and I sometimes even convince myself that I don’t care. But every year about this time, I start daydreaming about perching atop the stands where I’ve sat for the better part of two decades, straining to see who’s coming out of the backstretch—and who might find the wall right in front of my seat.
What is it about that sprawling acreage at 30th and Georgetown that quickens my pulse, despite my efforts to ignore it? Tradition, perhaps. Memories of races with my friends, with my grandfather. The camaraderie of an annual adventure with the occasional addition of a new traveler. I said I wouldn’t go this year, but I feel the pull. I imagine being somewhere at a cookout, listening to the race on the radio, and I believe I’d wish I were there. Will there be a tribute to Dan Wheldon? Or some other one-time-only experience?
Why does anyone go to the race? It’s usually hot, and kind of dirty, and aside from the spectacular people-watching, not a place you would imagine someone would want to be if they weren’t a diehard racing fan. Yet the people come, in droves, from far and wide. And the answer to why? can usually be found in the smiling photos they take while there.
Send us your good-time photos from the 500 and other Month-of-May festivities, and we’ll showcase them on the website. Submit the best one and win a free golf outing courtesy of the Pro Shop at Brickyard Crossing and lunch courtesy of Cibus Catering.