[Since many people from this area couldn’t make it out, I thought I’d bring you some of my thoughts from witnessing the first-ever Indy race in Alabama.]

I enjoy auto racing in all forms. When I got married I began to watch less and less NASCAR on Sundays and I’m lucky to have the time to catch the last 50 laps once a month.

So I was thrilled that I was able to get over to Barber Motorsports Park for the Indy Grand Prix of Alabama this past weekend.

I went out to the Indy testing sessions Friday to see what the cars were going to do come Sunday. I’ve covered most of the events at Barber since I’ve been a reporter in this area.

I really enjoy taking pictures of sporting events and I was glad that I was able to put my sports hat on again to get out to the park.

Indy cars are fast. Incredibly fast. When I first photographed them last year when the Indy series was in town to do some track scouting, I was amazed at their power and aerodynamics.

As I would stand next to an open spot in the fence to shoot the cars as they came over a particular hill, I realized that they were pulling me towards the track. I’m a pretty big guy, 6-foot-two and north of 200 pounds. So for them to pull my big behind towards the track when they are eight feet away says something about the power involved.

It’s been said that if it was ever possible to build a loop-the-loop and have a car drive on it, Indy racers could handle the job because there is so much down force created when in motion.

We photographers were warned of this during the photo meetings each morning. “You have to be very careful not to stand in any gaps along the barriers because the next thing you’ll know, you’ll be six feet from where you started,” they said over and over again.

When I first arrived on track Friday I went to my favorite shooting location, a miniature version of a corkscrew turn in front of the motorcycle museum that no fans can see.

There were 20-foot debris fences all around the track to keep photogs and fans safe if catastrophe should happen. Organizers cut four-by-two-foot holes in the fence at points to allow us to shoot freely.

There were also more photographers there than I had ever seen before. I huddled in between a row of hedges and the concrete barrier. I was next to a photographer who was using a huge 600mm lens. My car doesn’t cost as much as a 600mm lens.

“Nice glass,” I told him.

“It gets the job done,” he replied.

After catching a shot of eventual winner Helio Castroneves skidding off the track, the photog asked me who I was shooting for. I told him the local newspaper and his response shored up what I had been thinking all morning.

“I can’t believe they let all these people in with media passes. There’s some idiot over there with a 50mm lens shooting with a tripod. A tripod! These guys don’t know what to do if a car goes out of control and they’ve got no business out here while we’re trying to work. Anybody who can fake a website and get the credentials is out here.”

I made my way to the second straightaway on track. The cars were whipping by at an alarming rate and I noticed someone shooting who was standing by the guardrail where there was no debris fence. His leg was touching the fence and the cars were at times only a few feet from him.

I got the shots from about six feet away from that two-foot-high guardrail, but I knew that if anything went wrong I was a dead man. I took pictures from there for about 15 seconds.

On Sunday, when the cars are running their peak speeds, I didn’t want my recently inked living will to be used quite yet, so I parked myself at race control, since there was already a photog from our newspaper chain on track.

I got to see a few celebrities and was there for the winner’s celebration.

I was able to enjoy the race from the media center; away from the deafening noise Indy cars produce. I already don’t hear well and had forgotten my earplugs. Watching the race perched above pit row in the air conditioning was nice.

We were told there were around 53,500 people there for Sunday’s race alone. I enjoyed being amongst them, though technically I was working.

George Barber has done a wonderful thing with that racetrack. Talladega is this weekend. Maybe I can carve out an hour or so to check out some of the race Sunday.