James, you may have not had fast time, but you certainly had a good time. Well done.
Photography by Rob Wilkinson unless otherwise credited
I didn’t plan to do Gridlife as a spectator.
The original plan? Show up, unload, race, maybe break a personal best–or at least not break the car.
Instead, I broke my car halfway through Friday’s warmup. Not even halfway through the first session.
One minute I was heel-toeing into Turn 4 like a hero, the next minute I was coasting to a stop on the back side of the carousel because the Haltech Rebel’s engine protections shut down my car due to elevated water temps.
While waiting to be towed back in, I told Kevin on the radio: “It’s broke.”
Kevin, being the optimist he is, replied: “Let’s get it back before we throw in a towel!”
Once back in the pits, we discovered that I’d lost my serpentine belt, which explained the high temps. The boys replaced the belt, charged the battery and fired up the car, only to hear the unexpected sound of rod knock. Our beloved junkyard LY6 had some sort of failure in the bottom end.
Photograph by James Wood
That’s a story for another time.
Just like that, I was benched. My weekend shifted from “send it” to “spectate it”–armed with a folding chair, a pair of cheap sunglasses, and a strong desire to lose my voice yelling “SEND IT!” at friends and strangers in race cars.
But before all that heartbreak, there was Thursday–and oh man, it was good.
We pulled into CMP under a Carolina sunset that made the sky look like a candy-colored dream. Saw friends in line waiting to get in like Adam Jabaay, Josh Garcia, Eric Kutil and Dewey Dewitt.
The paddock was just starting to breathe: trailers rolling in, tents popping up, cars getting unloaded. That pre-weekend optimism was everywhere. You could feel it.
Got the car unloaded and through tech without any drama–probably a personal record. As I shut the hood and wiped the grime off my hands, a couple folks strolled over with that universal paddock grin and said, “Yo, the new engine is rowdy. What is it, a junkyard motor?”
“Yup,” I said. “Junkyard LY6. Swapped it with some bad decisions and a torque wrench.”
They just nodded and smiled: “Hell yeah. Glad to see you back out here.”
Those little paddock moments where strangers become temporary teammates? That’s the real magic.
One thing I LOVE about Gridlife is the eclectic group of cars that come. Anything from brand-new Supras to 40-year-old Japanese shitboxes, crazy swaps and supercars.
This year, I wanted to pit with the old Japanese car homies. This included Josh Garcia with a 1UZ-swapped AE86, Marshal Moore with a Mk4 Supra, and Sam Corke–he brought his new M2, but we give him a pass because he used to have an Evo, so he’s included in the brotherhood of Japanese shitboxes.
Of course, the storm rolled in right on cue. Around midnight, the sky cracked open like someone dropped a swimming pool on the paddock. Tents collapsed, canopies tried to fly and I lay half asleep in the back of the F-350 wondering if I’d wake up floating toward Turn 1.
Lightning lit up the trees. My air mattress gave up. Even though I was half conscious, I was stoked.
Gridlife 2025 was happening. We were in it.
The paddock was already buzzing–trailers half unloaded, torque wrenches clicking like background music, and that one guy tuning his car with his laptop balanced on a tire like a budget pit crew commander.
And for a brief moment, I was part of it.
Right up until the engine made a noise like someone dropped a wrench into a running blender.
Cue the pit lane walk of shame. Hood up, tools out, heads off. But after 5 minutes of diagnosing and 20 of denial, I had to admit it: The weekend was over–for the car. But I’d already paid for my wristband and packed a cooler, so I figured, screw it, I’ll watch other people chase records in their cars instead.
With my RX-7 parked under a sad little shade tent like a fallen soldier, I pivoted hard into full spectator mode. And honestly? It was kind of glorious.
While walking to Turn 1, my friends from Queen B Ice Cream drove by. They were bummed about the RX-7. My consolation prize? A Blue Bell strawberry shortcake ice cream bar.
I posted up near Turn 1 with my friends, a cold drink, a floppy hat and zero responsibility. The drifting sessions were absolute madness: Nissan S-chassis cars chucking themselves sideways like they had nothing to live for, Mustangs making questionable life choices, and a rotary RX-7 that screamed like a banshee and smelled like regret.
The crowd loved it. Every time someone chucked a car into the kink at 140 mph, we went feral. People were throwing up peace signs, air horns were blaring, and someone was handing out Capri-Suns like it was a kindergarten birthday party. Vibes: immaculate.
Once the big track went quiet, the real chaos kicked off over on the kart course. Gridlife turned on the stadium lights, and suddenly it felt like a scene from “Tokyo Drift”–if that scene was set in South Carolina and featured way cooler cars.
A crew of heavy hitters–Grant Anderson, Cole Richards, Hert, Lee Yearwood–lined up like it was a demolition derby with style points. Headlights lit up the mist, engines barked and then boom: full send.
Smoke rolled over the fences and the crowd lost their damn minds. It wasn’t just drifting, it was an art form done with more tire than logic and more angle than sense.
I swear people were standing on coolers, screaming like it was Game 7 of the World Series. Someone next to me shouted, “Hell yeah, brother!” as a car flicked into a corner with 6 inches to spare from the barrier. It was unhinged. It was perfect. It was the kind of thing you try to film but end up just watching with your jaw open.
Then came the music. The tire smoke cleared, and the infield lit up. EMO Night ON: all the songs I listened to in high school mixed with EDM. It was a vibe that on paper I wouldn’t like, but in person it felt right. DJs, lights, a dude dancing in a dinosaur costume–it was motorsports-meets-music-festival chaos. I loved every minute of it.
But the real after-party? That went down at the Queen City Overland camp. Fires were blazing, s’mores were being aggressively over-toasted, and someone had set up a projector playing “Fast & Furious” like it was a sacred ritual.
There was cornhole, a mountain of snacks, coolers that seemed to refill themselves, and what felt like a hundred of your closest friends–even if you'd just met them that day.
Laughter echoed through the paddock, headlights lit the treetops, and for a moment, everything felt infinite. It wasn’t just a party–it was a celebration of being exactly where you were supposed to be. After a few too many drinks, it was time to stumble back to my lavish hotel–aka my trusty F-350.
Sunday mornings at Gridlife feel like the end of summer camp if your bunkmates were turbo nerds with impact guns. The cars were tired, the people were sun-fried, and you could feel that bittersweet end-of-weekend drag setting in.
I made one last loop around the pits. Some people were still swapping tires waiting for their last shot to get into the big show, the Podium Sprint. Others were zip-tying their cars together for one more session.
My RX-7? Still broken. Still parked. But I didn’t care anymore.
I may not have turned as many laps as I wanted, but I got it–the energy, the culture, the shared insanity. Gridlife isn’t just about driving. It’s about the people who love this weird, beautiful, high-octane world enough to show up even when their car can’t.
Absolutely. Preferably next time with a functional engine–but even if I end up in the paddock again with a busted motor and a busted ego, I’ll still be there. Because whether you’re behind the wheel or behind the fence yelling at people to take cleaner lines, Gridlife feels like home.
I’ll see y’all next time. Peace!
FALKEN CLUB TR
1st: Jerami Bailey 1:41.967
2nd: Evan McLaren 1:42.014
3rd: Stan Fayngold 1:42.134
STREET
1st: Joshua Halka 1:40.057
2nd: Mike Coons 1:40.502
3rd: Team Turn In Concepts 1:41.787
STREET GT
1st: Ryan Mathews 1:38.889
2nd: Mark Kilgore 1:39.506
3rd: Austin Hertel 1:39.940
STREET MOD
1st: Ryan Mathews 1:35.386
2nd: Dewey Dewitt 1:37.088
3rd: Kal Fortner 1:37.548
FALKEN SUNDAE CUP
1st: Chris Rice 1:55.699
2nd: Ryan Mukherjee 1:55.822
3rd: Sam Deuling 1:56.143
TRACK MOD
1st: Team VitourP1.com 1:38.043
2nd: Luke McGrew 1:39.462
3rd: David Bamforth 1:40.196
UNLIMITED
1st: Errestas Puzelis 1:32.619
2nd: Jim Rauck 1:33.201
3rd: Phillip Glass-Hess 1:37.735
Race 1
1st: Eric Kutil
2nd: Matan Rosenburg
3rd: Eric Magnussen
Race 2
1st: Eric Kutil
2nd: Matan Rosenburg
3rd: Eric Jensen
Race 3
1st: Eric Kutil
2nd: Eric Magnussen
3rd: Matan Rosenburg
Race 4
1st: Matan Rosenburg
2nd: Eric Kutil
3rd: James Cathers
Race 1
1st: Ryan Leach
2nd: Andy Voelkel
3rd: Nico Bratz
Race 2
1st: Ryan Leach
2nd: Andy Voelkel
3rd: Nico Bratz
Race 3
1st: Ryan Leach
2nd: Andy Voelkel
3rd: Nico Bratz
Race 4
1st: Ryan Leach
2nd: Andy Voelkel
3rd: Nico Bratz
James, you may have not had fast time, but you certainly had a good time. Well done.
Great write-up. Felt like I was there. I miss track time. Of any kind. It's my zen place.
In reply to J.A. Ackley :
Thank you JA! It was an adventure like always :)
Displaying 1-3 of 3 commentsView all comments on the GRM forums
You'll need to log in to post.
