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Ode to the
24 Hours of Spa.

A race weekend. A pocket camera.
A few observations from the madness.

01 / The experience

It's nothing like North America.

I've been to plenty of motor racing events around the world, but nothing quite prepared me for the 24 Hours of Spa.

I happened to be in Belgium while the race was on, so I figured I'd rent a car for the weekend, drive out to Francorchamps, and park in a field behind some guy's house for €40.

A lot of race weekends have a party atmosphere, but as I was about to discover - nobody does it quite like the Belgians.

A helmeted driver seated inside a race car, framed by its open door.
Two brightly coloured race cars running side by side against a dark wooded hillside.
A red Ferrari surrounded by people in the busy paddock.

02 / The camera

The wrong camera
for the job.
The right attitude.

I was travelling for work, so all I had was my Ricoh GR II. A brilliant little pocket camera, but hardly the obvious choice for photographing a race weekend.

No long lenses, no elaborate kit. Just a camera that fit in my pocket.

Turns out, the wrong camera for the job can still be the right camera for the experience.

A Ricoh GR II held in front of a red, white and green Ferrari in the paddock.

03 / The ode

An ode to the madness.

the 24 hours of spa is more of a rave than a race, a challenge for the patrons and pilots alike.. two hours into the race and i start to see the signs.. four hours into the race and i’m dodging the stumbling drunks.. six hours into the race...... i’m ready to join the madness. night falls as fast as the rain and i find myself at a roadhouse drinking beer and rainwater. the race is yellow flagged but the dance floor is not - everyone is soaking wet and it’s hilariously clear that none of us use duolingo.. ten beers later it’s something like 2am. new faces keep arriving from the soaking darkness as if they’re spawning from the shadows. the race is back on and we can see the cars whipping up eau rouge. i ask a man next to me for an update. on wobbly legs he falls forward and slurs in my direction “ yes, it is ‘appening! ” .... indeed it is .. i’m suddenly out of the rain and in the roadhouse. i believe we’re drinking whiskey and my clothes are being cured by a cloud of cigarette smoke. i notice the rain has stopped and remember the long walk back to my accommodations. now’s my chance, au revoir.. i walk into the wild and it hits me - WOW, i’m at the 24 hours of spa! i attempt to savour the moment but i’m offered a shot of whiskey. i drink with whoever, acquire a hot dog, and march from the madness.. Hunter S. Zlompson

04 / The photographs

One camera.
Twenty-four hours.

A race car approaches the sweeping climb at Spa, framed by kerbs and grandstands.
Two race cars run side by side with a dark wooded hillside behind them.
Spectators gather around a grey Lamborghini race car with its door raised in the Spa paddock.
Race cars round a corner beneath storm clouds, viewed through a narrow opening.
A lime-green race car sweeps past the colourful kerbs and blue grandstands.
A blue and orange race car approaches the uphill section of the circuit.
A sweeping view over the circuit and paddock beneath dark storm clouds.
A race car streaks past yellow barriers and a green wooded backdrop.
A race car seen between tree trunks from the wooded spectator area.
A race car passes the pit buildings and grandstands at speed.
Two race cars pass the yellow barriers with the forest blurred behind them.
A blue and orange race car captured in a panning shot against the green circuit backdrop.