Violent speed: a ride with a race driver around the F1 Miami Grand Prix course
Two thoughts as I waited to snuggle into the passenger seat of a life-size Hot Wheels car, a McLaren 750S, for a couple of laps at speed around the Formula 1 Crypto.com Miami Grand Prix course:
Going two cereal bowls deep into breakfast, Part I, could create a refunding problem on the front end. At the other end, though, Depends in place.
Of course, unless my head actually exploded — not just feeling like a hangover, actual BOOM! splat — there was no way I’d resist the chance to be in a daggone near production race car with a former professional race car driver jerking, skidding and accelerating around a track annually used for an F1 grand prix.
And, yeah, I exited the car all but panting from the pace and physicality.
Hot laps in McLaren cars were the main attraction of Thursday’s F1 Miami Grand Prix Media Day at the Miami International Autodrome track on Hard Rock Stadium grounds.
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McLarens seemed appropriate. McLaren’s Lando Norris scored his career first Formula One win at last year’s F1 Miami Grand Prix, the first race of the season that defending and eventual world champion Max Verstappen finished but didn’t win. Behind Norris’ four wins and Oscar Piastri’s two, the team that still carries Bruce McLaren’s name and has returned to its original papaya color scheme would take the Constructors title as the season’s most successful team.
Pato O’Ward almost provided McLaren a perfect bookend last May, taking the lead going into Turn 1 of the Indianapolis 500’s last lap 50 years after Team McLaren’s first Indianapolis 500 win. Alas, Nashville’s Josef Newgarden got O’Ward in Turn 3 to take the win.
(New Zealander Bruce McLaren drove in Formula 1 from 1958 to 1970, the last few years with his own chassis design, then dominated the CanAm series with a near-invincible design. He died in 1970 testing a new CanAm car.)
The 750S was one of the models used Thursday. McLaren brags the V8 “supercar” can go from 0 to 100 km/62.1 mph in 2.8 seconds and 0 to 200 kmh/124.2 mph in 7.2 seconds.
Guiding this Road Runner that can zip away from Shelby Mustangs with Coyote engines would be Nico Rondet, a Frenchman raised in Brazil. After winning titles in various feeder series in Europe and the United States, including the 2001 Barber Dodge Pro Series, Rondet turned performance driving instructor. He’s also done the Ironman triathlon and is a commercial pilot.
First, I got tightly fitted with an old-school, open-faced Bell helmet that made me look like an extra in the 1966 movie “Grand Prix.” I slid into the 750S, the passenger seat framing me with nice leg room for someone 6-foot-1 1/2. Hugged as I felt, actual racing cockpits aren’t nearly as roomy.
I quickly found the hand grips. I knew better than to expect a ride similar to being with that high school friend who zoomed up 95, across and down the Palmetto until they got caught, got killed or got kids of their own. No, this was infinitely safer, but even clean racing speed laps come with violence.
As Rondet hit the first rapid left, then yanked the car around a right hand curve, physics threw me almost into the door, then back toward Rondet. He took one corner at almost a sprint car slide, bringing a “Wheeee!” in my head.
The warning when you’re riding in a car that will be rocketing at 150 mph toward a hard turn resembles the warning about jumping off a building: it’s not the speed that’ll get you, it’s the sudden braking. Rondet gave me a heads up about the end of the long straightaway on the 3.36-mile course.
The track’s longest, fastest straight shot ends with slowing, then standing on the brakes to negotiate a near-hairpin turn to the left. Imagine speeding down a No Outlet street, then whipping back into the driveway of the last house you passed. I readied myself, but still got jammed into the door as far as the seat and belt would allow.
As earlier, I felt like I was somehow riding the outside wall while still being in the car. Then, settling back in to less see the speed through the eyes than feel the speed through the butt.
So the process went for two laps, just more than three minutes. I thanked Rondet for the experience. The Special K and Frosted Flakes stayed down.
For 50 years, I’ve understood the addiction as a fan, the aggressive seduction via the sounds of the motors, the smell of rubber, the sight of colorful cars hurtling toward you, past you, then away, soon to return.
Thursday, I felt a kiss of the addiction that keeps drivers behind the wheel as long as they can wrestle the power and pin the course.
This story was originally published February 15, 2025 at 8:00 AM.
