The 24h Le Mans Experience

There are races, and then there's Le Mans. Twenty-four hours of pushing limits. Not just the limits of the car or the driver, but of physics, focus, and faith.

Since 1923, this has been the ultimate test of motor racing, engineering, team work and drivers. Le Mans is the crown jewel of endurance motorsports and with good reason. Anything can happen between 4PM Saturday and 4PM Sunday.

In 2023 I travelled to Le Mans for the 24 hour race with Porsche. As quite a significant name in the Le Mans paddock, Porsche has an impressive setup for guests heading into the race weekend. A temporarily hotel more or less trackside for their guests, shuttle cars taking you wherever you want to go and of course the Porsche Experience Center Le Mans. Walking into the foyer, Porsche's concept car "Mission X" greets you as you enter. In addition the Porsche 963 had its own display, a car which would debut the 24 hour race that year. A short shuttle ride brought us to the Porsche Curves, where a private hospitality lounge welcomed us with familiar faces, well-stocked bars, and enough small bites to last us through the night. Among the crowd was Ted Gushue, founder of Type7. What started as a conversation about cameras quickly turned into an engaging exchange of stories, shared interests, and experiences.

The race begins at four in the afternoon. You watch for an hour or two. Then wander off to find a bite or a drink. Then you come back. The cars are still screaming down Mulsanne. Still dancing through the Porsche Curves. Hours go by. You meet up with friends. You hop shuttles to see new corners. You walk through thousands of people doing the exact same thing in their own rhythm.

Then comes the night. And the race changes.

The headlights are the only thing lighting up the forest. The roaring sounds of engines becomes sharper. The crowd a little quieter. You want to stay up through it all, but eventually your body calls time. A couple of hours at the Porsche Hotel. Enough to breathe. Then you’re back at the track before the sun rises and you get this strange, thrilling moment of realization: they’re still going. Flat out. It almost doesn’t compute if you’re used to racing formats that wrap up in under two hours.

At one point during the race I was invited into the Porsche Penske pitbox. They handed me a headset and let me listen in on the team radio. The radio crackled with decisions, tension, focus. Everything has to work. And it has to work now. There are no shortcuts at Le Mans. Just an endless push to stay ahead of the next problem.

By morning, it is like a dream still going. Mechanics sleep on the floor of the garage. Spectators lie passed out on the grandstands. The cars never stop. The drivers never let up. The pace is as relentless in hour nineteen as it was in hour two.

That is the thing about Le Mans. Just because someone leads at sunrise does not mean they will lead at the end. The race bites. It bends wheels and snaps nerves. It punishes the arrogant and tests the brave.

And when the checkered flag waves down the start-finish straight, the place erupts.

The crowd floods the track. The cars roll in with rubber-scarred bodies and scraped paint. Some look like they just rolled out of a scrapyard. But they finished. And that means something.

I tried to capture some of it. I also brought the Olympus OM-4 with a roll of Portra 400. Some things deserve to be documented the old way.

Some stories should feel like they came from the past.

So here they are. A few frames from a race that never really stops.

Captured on Canon R5

Captu

Captured on Olympus OM-4 using Portra 400