What Motorsport Feels Like

Standing in the centre of Druids at brands hatch, in the dark, with camera in hand I was immersed in the smell of burning fuel in my nostrils, a scent that begins to lightly scratch the back of your throat, almost as a gentle reminder of the sheer power of the machines that you are witnessing. The sound of screaming V10's, V8's and flat 6's span round my head in this whirlwind of glorious symphony; a tone that no petrol-head could ever get bored of. You know you've fallen in love with the sound of an engine when the hairs on your arms stand on end and you get this cold tingling sensation run through your body like a shot of high octane electricity. A technicolour light show streaked the apex's with the glowing red of brake disks. The blue exhaust flames flickered in a tiny hot cloud and the many colours of the LED's jaggedly tracing the profile of the cars that rushed past, created an ever evolving pattern a metre or so above the track.

In that moment I didn't care that the cold earth below my feet was seeping into my already mud clad trainers, I didn't care that my toes were slowly dropping off, I didn't care... because what could be better than this?

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