Terug naar de 24 uur van Le Mans 2012

Ten years ago today, I saw the 24 Hours of Le Mans (2011) in person for the first time. I should have been there now, celebrating this anniversary with friends. Unfortunately, just like last year, the 2021 edition has been postponed due to the global crisis. A few fans will be allowed to attend in August (less than 20% of the usual number) for what will be a significantly scaled-down edition. The atmosphere that makes the 24 Hours of Le Mans what it is will therefore be much less. That's why I'm looking back on that same atmosphere again this year, this time at the 2012 edition.

2012 was the most difficult year for me personally so far. In 2010, my mother was diagnosed with cancer. During 2011, it became clear she was losing the battle. Not exactly easy circumstances at home. To get away for a bit, I booked another weekend at Le Mans, this time with my school friend Jasja. It turned out my mother was acting better than she actually was; she thought I needed a break.

So, the plan was to go on a bus trip again, just like the year before. But for some reason, something always seems to go a bit wrong in the lead-up to such a trip. First, it turned out that the bus trip would be leaving a day late due to unforeseen circumstances. So, we couldn't do the pit walk or attend the parade the day before the race. So, we decided to drive my work car and set up camp there. That was already a challenge; when we arrived at Jasja's house, there was more luggage waiting for us than the car could hold, and then we had to add to it ourselves...making choices and loading efficiently, so to speak. ;-) The next morning we left (including a short detour back to Jasja to get his passport). After an exhausting drive in a small 107, including traffic jams, we finally arrived at the campsite mid-afternoon. Quickly pitched the tent and headed to the track!

Even at the campsites in Le Mans, the sights are truly breathtaking: expensive sports cars, carbide shooting, costume parties (mostly British), walls of beer bottles, all sorts of stickered and modified vehicles, burnouts, parties until the wee hours—utter chaos, but unforgettable. Arriving at the track, we saw the Group C sports cars, which raced at Le Mans in the 1980s, blasting into the Porsche curves. A fantastic engine sound, of course, with hundreds of horsepower backing up. And in the Aston Martin Cup, we even saw our hero, Mr. Bean, Rowan Atkinson, driving around.

Later, qualifying for the 24 Hours began. So I was able to fully enjoy myself with my camera. We explored various spots along the circuit. A nice bonus of the practice sessions is that you can still access all the grandstands; on the weekend, you only need a separate ticket for the grandstands. From the pit roof, we saw the Jota LMP2 car fly out of the final corner and touch its tires just before the finish line. Two years later, the Mighty 38 would win the 24 Hours in its class. The day ended with a nighttime spin on the Ferris wheel. It's quite something, looking out over the track and seeing the race cars tear by right below you.

There's no racing on Friday. That day is traditionally dedicated to the fans. During the day, the pit lane is open for the pit walk. Hordes of fans, costumed or not, shuffle past the garages to admire the cars and hope to meet their favorite drivers, score goodies, and take pictures. We even encountered a veritable legion of orange fans who sang in front of the pit garage of each team with a Dutch driver until the driver in question came out. They turned out to be Dutch track marshals who normally stand trackside at Zandvoort. This was their day off. The next day, they were again waving the flag at post 8bis under the Dunlop bridge. Marshall Patrick recounted how he had been there the year before to help with Allan McNish's huge crash.

That evening, we were in the city center, just like thousands of other fans. After a ride on an overcrowded tram, we stood row after row, watching the parade. It was raining, but that didn't spoil the fun. Unique cars passed by, and all the drivers were driven past on vintage cars. Lots of goodies were also thrown into the crowd. Some fans at the front stood with a whole pile of caps on their heads. Because we were a bit late, we were already a few rows back, but I was still in luck. While I was taking pictures, I saw Audi driver Allan McNish gesturing that he was going to throw something, and he did it my way! I dropped my camera (it was around my neck) and caught the t-shirt he threw with both hands. It was tugged at in all directions, but I had it, check! Because of that gesture, I might have bought an Audi two years later, those marketing guys always do... The tram back was overcrowded again. Hilarious scenes of, for example, a drunken Pescarolo green Viking singing next to an old woman with her groceries will stay with me.

Saturday finally arrived, time for the big race! It was still raining heavily in the morning, causing some incidents during the Group C and Aston Martin races. But by late morning it had dried up again, and the buildup to the race could begin. Once again, I watched the national anthems being played for all the teams and drivers. And after the Patrouille France, with their fighter jets, left the French tricolor flying in the sky, the cars were released, and the race could begin.

It was the first 24 Hours of Le Mans in the history of the World Endurance Championship. It also marked the debut of the first Hybrid LMP1s: Audi's four-wheel-drive diesel, and the Toyota, which had actually debuted earlier than planned. Due to Peugeot's sudden departure shortly before the start of the championship, the organizers had pressured Toyota to make its debut, thus providing serious competition for Audi. But that was a tough task, of course. Henri Pescarolo's team had two cars: their own, based on the Aston Martin that had failed so miserably the year before. And the Dome. Unfortunately, it proved to be the team's swan song. Years earlier, his team had made things very difficult for the factory Audis. But he had already gone bankrupt. His friend Jacques Nicolet had bought the estate and subsequently returned the keys to Pescarolo. But neither car was willing to run. We frequently saw them return to the pits for repairs. They left again to loud applause once they had been repaired, but neither car was very reliable.

There was also a special innovative class, the Nissan Deltawing. A bizarre-looking car with a narrow nose, an extremely small engine (small enough for someone to lift), and a remarkably futuristic shape. On the roads near the campsite, we'd already seen a road-going version of it that someone had built themselves—that's how it goes there. That evening, the Deltawing itself would be slammed into the wall by one of the Toyotas. The driver spent a long time there heroically trying to repair the car and get it back to the pits. The team threw tools at him. Unfortunately, he had to abandon his attempt.

That evening, we met up with Dennis. I'd met him the year before during my bus trip. So the three of us went out to take photos here and there. We saw an ambulance pass by, carrying Toyota driver Anthony Davidson. He'd injured his back when he crashed into a Ferrari, something that had already happened to two Audis in 2011. And so, only one Toyota remained. As we approached the pits again, we heard the commentator shouting. The other Toyota had stalled in the pits. We watched it being pushed backwards back to its garage. Much tinkering ultimately proved futile. An earlier collision with the Deltawing and teething problems from an early debut eventually caused problems. Night was falling, and the race seemed poised to go Audi's way.

The next morning we woke up again at the campsite. You don't really get much sleep there. Especially not when they're still setting off fireworks next to your tent and shooting carbide a bit further away at 3 a.m. And a few hundred meters behind your tent, cars roar past the trees. Since the train never showed up, we continued to walk our feet to the track. Tip: make sure you bring hiking boots, the grounds are quite large! So we slowly woke up a bit in the grandstand. In the absence of a church service in the grandstand, Jasja read from his Bible journal, and I finished off the standard Le Mans lunch: Une Americain: A baguette with sausages and a load of fries on top... Audi did indeed win the race, as expected. But not without drama for some of the cars. A few minor accidents for some of their cars. But around 3 p.m. we were at the fences near the finish line in the blazing sun. The No. 1 Audi won the race with the same drivers as the year before: Lotterer, Fassler, and Treluyer. The first race victory for a hybrid car was a fact!

The gates were opened after all the cars arrived, allowing all the fans onto the track and to watch the celebrations beneath the podium. In a way, I felt emotional. As a spectator, you saw how the teams sometimes have to fight hard to overcome setbacks and still reach the finish. Despite everything going on back home, I was still able to be there. In a way, it seems like a metaphor for life, especially in those days. But also in these years of crisis. Things won't always go smoothly, but you have to keep going! Let's hope for better times!