Summer’s a Drag


I’m sure I can’t be the only one but the scorching heights of summer make me think of nitrous-boosted lumps, the smell of donuts and dirty burgers and the aroma of burnt rubber. Head to the Santa Pod Raceway, in the wilds of provincial England for the forthcoming bank holiday Monday and dig the height of the European manifestation of a yankee bred discipline.

The thing we love about the 440 yard straight line formula is its stripped down utilitarianism. Only here can your mate with a juiced up, cropped, dropped and blown mutant Cortina rub shoulders with Norse gods who make it their mission to make 300 MPH is five seconds across a quarter mile.

Yes, we dig drag racing. For the many-textured colour and aural sensation of it all. And we love the aesthetic element too. There’s tonnes of colour, tonnes of noise and oodles of raw horse power. Check Influx contrib Dom Romney’s pictures for more inspiration


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