Geat clouds boil, escape made impossible by packed grandstands. The white, burned-hair funk of tire smoke settles onto sweating skin of every age, sex, and color, all united by grit and noise, standing and cheering. Two cars atomize tens of thousands of miles of perfectly good tire before one driver’s subtle misstep erases tens of thousands of dollars of bodywork with a deafening impact on the Irwindale Speedway banking. The crowd leaps to its feet, cheering hard enough to drown the wail of the victorious remaining driver and his engine.

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