Longform

Five miles east of Monument Circle, on the far edge of Irvington, the railroad runs past factories and warehouses and a tiny asphalt racetrack. There is no infield, just a rubber-streaked oval two-tenths of a mile in circumference, little bigger than a hockey rink, surrounded by a wire fence and grandstands of bleachers and folding metal chairs. During the week, the Indianapolis Speedrome stands as empty as many of the abandoned buildings on the industrial east side. But every summer Saturday night, the place comes alive with beer-swilling fans who’ve paid $11 to watch four  hours of action, semi-pro drivers trading paint in everything from go-karts to jalopies, all of it just prelude to the mayhem that is the main event, a little-known battle royale of bent metal that may just be auto racing’s truest spectacle: the Figure 8.

When Prohibition ended, the boozy, bawdy days of the Indianapolis Press Club began. Patrons favored a martini “so potent that on the third sip” their tongues would be “paralyzed,” according to one account.

“I’m not the type of chef who shoots for perfect food. I like a little chaos in my eating.”

An eclipse chaser recalls his 2017 quest.

David Scott spent 23 years in prison, wrongly convicted of murder. But after two years on the outside, he wonders if he’ll every truly be free.

She contested a drug suspension while living in the sport’s unlikely hinterlands of exurban Indiana. In the heat of her battle, Tara Moore found a new life to fight for.

The boss thinks Friday is a workday. And maybe it is for the rest of those poor folks back at the office. But when the days are sunny, the nights are warm, and the water’s just right, two-day weekends hardly seem long enough. So we hereby declare Friday workdays to be optional. And by “optional” we mean we won’t be showing up at all. Join us, won’t you?

David Rubin, one of the country’s leading landscape architects, planted himself in Indianapolis two years ago. He has been elevating the city’s public spaces ever since.

Two Indianapolis podcasters who spent years reporting on the Delphi murders witnessed the benefits of the true crime community’s hive mind—but they also saw where the trend goes horribly wrong. The authors of the just-released book Shadow of the Bridge recall one of the case’s darkest chapters.