Indianapolis Motor Speedway, Indianapolis, Indiana

A high whine begins in the distance, reverberating in that place between the chest and the pit of the stomach.

The smell of burning alcohol (used for fuel) hangs heavy in the air, alongside waves of heat.

The speedway stands are silent.

The whine deepens a little, grows louder, and then those listening hear another chasing the first … then two … then 10.
Suddenly, an Indy car bursts into view of the Turn 1 bleachers and thousands of people surge to their feet with a roar.

The entire pack zips past in the space of a few seconds, tires wailing against the bank of the turn. As they disappear into Turn 2, the sound wavers and fades. But the fans stay on their feet because they can already hear more cars on the way.

It’s the Indianapolis 500 – the “Greatest Spectacle in Racing.”

Entering the speedway grounds in 2006 was just like any other year, but it wasn’t like anything else in the history of the world.

For one thing, the Indianapolis Motor Speedway is the largest sporting facility in human history – eight times bigger than the Roman Coliseum. It holds more than 400,000 people and is always packed solid on Memorial Day weekend. People come from across the globe to converge on Speedway, a small town completely surrounded by Indianapolis.

“It’s the event, the speed,” said David Rein, a racegoer for more than 20 years. “Nobody else goes this fast, not in the U.S. anyway.”

Rein was taking a break to hit the concession stand in the cool shadows of the bleachers. Like at halftime of a football game, fans head below decks any time a yellow caution flag comes out. Descending the metal stairs, race fans enter a throng of people all rushing to beat the green flag back to their seats.

But no one seems to mind the crowd.

In fact, there isn’t much Indy fans do mind. They operate with an air of friendly determination. If it’s 110 degrees, they won’t leave the sizzling metal bleachers. If it’s pouring rain, they’ll grab cardboard boxes or whatever’s handy to use as an umbrella. Often, they strike up conversations with perfect strangers to pass the time as the track dries. Ear plugs, sunscreen and winter coats are tools of the trade.

Nothing will stop them from watching their race.

“I watch to see who wins,” said spectator Jenny Patterson, gesturing at her Danica Patrick shirt with a laugh.

Patrick, a native of Roscoe, Ill., took Indy by storm the year before, in 2005, as she held the lead in the final laps. Only running a little short on gas prevented her from being the first female winner as well as the first female leader of the race. Patterson’s glee at Patrick’s current standing in the top 10 was apparent − after all, this was the event she’d waited all weekend for.

It had been a long weekend for Patterson. Patterson is one of many fans who begin camping the Friday before the race, cramming RVs and pickups onto highway medians and into the yards of obliging locals.

On Sunday morning, those same locals are collecting $20 or more a pop for parking – and they fill every available nook and cranny. People swarm over the town, hauling coolers and scalping extra tickets.

By the time the green flag drops, the excitement is palpable. People surge to their feet, yelling for their drivers and booing opponents. Rivalries that have been building all weekend explode for the few hours of the race. But Patterson knows what it’s really all about.

“It all comes down to the finish,” she said.

2006 left no room for disappointment. Although Patrick dropped back to eighth, another young driver gave fans and fellow drivers more than they’d bargained for.

Like Patrick the year before, rookie Marco Andretti was thirsty to win.

The 20-year-old is the third generation in a family of racing legends. Mario, Michael and Marco Andretti represent Indy racing at its finest. It seemed the saga would continue as Marco Andretti charged around the final turn.

Then, barreling down the final stretch in hot pursuit, Sam Hornish Jr. made his move.

Hornish and Andretti crossed the finish line together, their tires nearly rubbing. The crowd exploded. The finish was replayed on the Jumbotron again and again. Still, no one could be sure who won.

Finally, the announcer blared that one man had pulled ahead by just .0635 of a second – the second-closest finish in Indianapolis’ 96-year history.

Hornish took home the Borg-Warner trophy that night, but Andretti got his own fair share of praise.

And with the dropping of the checkered flag, 400,000 people began making plans to return to Speedway in 2007.