Race cars a “men only” world

Every year the Spa grand prix takes place, and time after time I notice the absence of female pilots. According to the connoisseurs “Real race cars” require bold muscle power, an exclusive right for male pilots.  I don’t quiet understand the exclusiveness, but reality seems to prove it, or not ?


Spa Francorchamps

I got my PIT pass and started to reconnoiter the PIT, a place bursting of energy, noise and smoke.  Hectic technicians run back and forth in an effort to get the mean racing machine ready for the challenge, a battle between men and machine. The E.R of the racetrack oiled and greased.


Race car E.R

Beaten-up and stitched iron fighting machines doped with rich fuel mixes, the EPO of the racecar.


Rich mixtures of fuel, the cars EPO

Sway discussions between drivers and mechanics orchestrated by the roar of misfiring engines and high revving heartbeats.


Sway discussions

Total chaos, and yet there is order and discipline sprinkled with emotions and adrenaline.

The chaos is ended by the ultimate announcement “Drivers present your cars”, if not the most stressful moment in the PIT.  Swearing and cursing fills the air, wrenches drop, engines roar, and last minute body swipes terminate the process.


Final call

Cars rollout the E.R’s , one by one.  And yes, accompanied by the “PIT dolls”, beautiful young ladies scarcely dressed and a high sex appeal.  That seems to be the only time that females appear, besides posing with race pilots on the tribune of honor; nothing more then an eye-catching attribute.


Cars line up, nervously awaiting the red-yellow-green light. Smoke, screaming engines and noise fill the arena. Racecars blasting away as a horde of angry bulls fighting for the best position.

Lap after lap, cars and drivers are carefully monitored until the ultimate moment. The final meters, teams jump and scream, exhibit uncontrolled movements and then it stops.



Engines spit their last breath, tears fill the eyes of the o so rough men, tears of joy or disappointment.  And then the long awaited moment of fame, the tribune of honor, champagne flows, the winner blossomed by female beauties.  That seems to be the only female aspect in this men’s world.  I think, time for change.  But who am I , a crazy photographer…


Thanks for reading,



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