There are drivers and even race engineers who will throw out words like “straightforward” and “simple” to describe the road course in Indianapolis. And yes, there are no wild bumps or gradient to contend with around its 2.439-mile, 14-turn layout. The ideal racing line for each corner is easy to decipher. Even some of the kerbs have lost their viciousness, which has subtly decreased the acuteness of angle at which they’re attacked. This is presumably to appease NASCAR, which holds a crash-fest here each summer.
And drivers risk pushing the limit here because in most corners, their greatest potential harm is time loss or, at worst, getting buried in a gravel trap. Unlike impacts with tyre walls at street courses or SAFER barriers on ovals, you’re unlikely to end up with deranged suspension or broken scaphoids.
But it’s the track’s supposed simplicity, which resulted in all 27 cars on the grid being covered by 1.3 seconds, that makes it so demanding: it’s very hard for a driver to make up time on his peers. Jackie Stewart, describing his Monza 1973 performance from dead last to finish fourth as his greatest Formula
