Dropping this post on Monday when it was supposed to be for Sunday-but I couldn’t quite get it done in time! I worked 55 hours just last week and the next couple of weeks are going to be even rougher, but that’s not even the main reason this post took me so long…it was mainly because I couldn’t find my Hot Wheels news helicopter!
This here post is a more in-depth look that revisits a topic that I brought up in a much more limited way in a previous post here… namely, a turn by turn look at drag city Raceway!
But this is a much deeper dive, and it’s one that’s going to involve an aerial flyover followed by walking the track during a quiet moment at midday when it was closed for necessary maintenance between the running of the Group A and Group B sports car fleets for Banzai Runner V! Roxy, Jason, and I, your humble blogger, took advantage of this break in the action to bring you a boots-on-the-ground report showcasing the sights, sounds, and smells of what the track really feels like when you’re there!
Jason wasn’t able to join us for the first part of the trip, which was our flyover, where we scored a seat in the local HW “Newscopter” thanks to the generosity of both the track management, and the whirlybird’s intrepid pilot Albert Vasquez, a retired Imperial County sheriff who now works part-time flying the copter when called for!
In reality, our helicopter ride is in a hot wheels mainline made mostly of plastic, and identified only as “Proper Chopper,” so it’s a given that it’s an amalgam, likely based on a general impression of what small light duty helicopters generally look like. For our purposes, however, we’re going to say it’s a Bell 206 JetRanger. It may or may not be that, but it’s not real either, so it is what I say it is… Isn’t it cool how imagination works? 😄
In truth, up until preparing for this post, I had never given much thought to a helipad anywhere near the track. There are several places on the diorama where one could theoretically exist, but it seems to me like the most logical-which is to say most realistic-place that a helipad might be located would be the roof of the CHP building! That makes sense to me: does it to you?
And so, to the “CHiP stand” it was that Roxy and I arrived on a Wednesday morning at 6 AM sharp, to meet our pilot Al Vasquez, who has no trouble hanging around at the station since his own son Robert is a MC patrolman; service in law-enforcement runs in the family. Now, I don’t mind telling you that I’m not the best with heights, and while I’ve been in numerous small airplanes, I had never been in a chopper before, and I was a little bit nervous, but Roxy helped to keep me calm as we lifted straight up into the air from the helipad on top of the station and zoomed over the track, cameras in hand!
What we’re doing with this whirrly-bird’s eye view is capturing-both in fast color and high-speed panchromatic-everything that we know from the ground to give us a greater understanding of how it all works together: the depth, the distance, the true geometry of the track.
A race track isn’t just a band of asphalt; it’s a living, breathing organism. Its curves inhale the roar of engines and exhale the heat of their passing. The surface remembers — every patch, every groove, every streak of rubber is a scar. In the mornings it wakes slow, pale and cool, and by noon it’s pulsing with light and fury, sunbaked and restless. At dusk, it sighs; the ghosts of old races stir in the cooling air, whispering in the guardrails. From Brooklands to Riverside, from Monza’s banking to Drag City’s scorching straights, the great circuits all share this same pulse — something human built, but somehow alive, a creature made of speed, noise, and memory.
Unfortunately, helicopter airtime is expensive, so our flyover was brief, but we got what we needed, and we were back on the ground in time for the two of us to grab a late breakfast at the diner with Albert before running across Bear Valley Road to the track to meet Jason who was arriving with his own gear. Cameras and video on hand, we went out onto the track in his trusty Land Rover, frequently stopping and walking it, sometimes even touching the walls and guard rails and the asphalt to get a true feel for the beast that is Drag City Raceway!
Every stretch has a story, and every turn has a nickname: whether it’s an official term used by advertising literature in the track or by sports writers, or merely nicknames that longtime fans have bestowed, there’s hardly a foot of this coil of concrete and asphalt that doesn’t have an identity! So, foot by foot and turn by turn, here is this blog’s up-closest and most-personal look yet at the place where it all goes down!
Drag City Turn By Turn: Boots On The Ground!
LEGEND:
TURN 1: Banked Turn 1
High-speed commitment off the start/finish. Banking pulls cars in, but walls and traffic stack tight. Outside, the camping zone rises — fans perched on RV roofs cheer the chaos.
TURN 2: Banked Turn 2
Mirror bank, entry narrows. Carnage if someone dives too late. The hospital skyline looms just beyond, a grim reminder of what happens if you blow it here.
TURN 3: Beginning of Chicane
Entry kink before the carnival wall. Spectators in the lot lean against cars to watch this one — always dusty, always dicey.
TURN 4: Middle of Chicane
Between the Ferris wheel and the drop tower, cars twitch through the snap. Sparks in twilight look dramatic here, lighting up the midway.
TURN 5: End of Chicane
Slings you back toward the paddock side. Clean exit carries speed; a messy one leaves you slow and vulnerable into Paddock Pass.
TURN 6: Paddock Pass
The unofficial “fan name” for the wide and fast turn that skirts the track’s most exciting area for staff and spectators alike: crowded with crew leaning on fences yelling advice on one side, and kids with carnival ice cream cones on the other. Dirt runoff outside loves to catch the greedy. Great passing spot if you do it tight, but you’re vulnerable if you run wide.
TURN 7: Gentle Bend
Into the straightaway to pit row! On paper, harmless. At race speed, cars drift outward into the palm-lined fence. Pitlane exit merges nearby, making traffic unpredictable.
TURN 8: Beginning of S-bend
The flick right begins just past the VIP grandstand’s shadow. Fans in the costly seats and the special guests on the rooftop get the best view of the first cut.
TURN 9: Middle of S-bend
The line narrows between barriers. Weight transfer unsettles cars — small mistakes balloon here.
TURN 10: End of S-bend
Blind throttle-on exit with late-day sun shining from the west (left side). Glare catches windshields and makes this more treacherous than it looks.
TURN 11: Station East
First of the inspection station’s three flanking turns. Smooth but deceptively tight — engines strain under load here, often overheating in summer heat.
TURN 12: Station West
Tighter, with the sun in drivers’ eyes late in the day. Small grandstands on the nearby straight drown it in noise, but no runoff makes this dangerous.
TURN 13: Station North
The funnel leading into the hairpins. Momentum through here sets the tone — go in wrong and you’re cooked for both hairpins.
TURN 14: Hairpin 1
Around the campground! The braking zone screams — tires howl, bumpers tap. Spectators line the fences here, loving the smoke and accordion effect.
TURN 15: Hairpin 2
Under the 1st pedestrian gantry! Even tighter, immediately following 14. Exit bumps shake suspensions; a place where tempers often boil over.
TURN 16: Truss Trap
Another unofficial “fan name,” the 2nd pedestrian gantry looms overhead. Tight exit pinches cars together, and carnage under the bridge is common. Vintage Chevrolet Corvair signage on the truss gives it a gritty postcard look.
TURN 17: The Corkscrew
No longer a true corkscrew, but still an off-camber dive with a lurch. Cars lift wheels and photographers pack the water tower mound to catch it.
TURN 18: Sweeper Turn
Fast, flowing left beside the carnival strip. Drivers feather throttle here — the brave carry full speed, the timid lift and lose ground.
TURN 19: End of Sweeper Turn
Speed trap area — long strain on engines, often the place where mechanical failures end a race.
TURN 20: Dead Man’s Curve
The Legend! Aptly named, this innocuous looking turn claims more crashes than any other! A flat, sharp right before the main straightaway: no banking, no mercy! Wrecks here are brutal, especially as dusk shadows creep across.
Long after the engines fade and the dust settles over Wardglenn, Drag City still hums — a low, steady pulse under the desert wind. The track is never really empty. It remembers the weight of every car that ever tore across it, the echo of every cheer, the hiss of cooling brakes in the dark. Each turn has its own voice now, carved by years of triumph and ruin — Banked One whispering of speed, the Corkscrew sighing like a ghost in the hills, Dead Man’s Curve forever holding its breath. Walk it at dusk and you can feel the temperature shift where the sun once hit the asphalt; smell the faint trace of fuel that never quite leaves. It’s alive, somehow — a living thing made of metal and memory, waiting for the next race to bring it back to life.
And as the Secret Oktober sun climbs again over Wardglenn, each turn will wake in its own way — ready for another day of noise, dust, and the beautiful, reckless business of speed!
The helicopter is really cool and what a great idea to capture these aerial views of Drag City from the chopper like you really were flying over it. I thought that was so cool and imaginative! This is a great diagram and legend that you created. With the pictures and all, it really gives one their bearings of where the action is happening on the track!