Will it get hotter? Windier? Colder? Weather gambles are a big part of the Indy art. (LAT photo) » More Photos

For their haying decision, we should thank Indianapolis Motor Speedway’s founding fathers. Seriously. They never could have known this at the time, but 99 years after the first race at the track (a two-lap contest among seven riders on Indian motorcycles), the effect of weather on this particular and peculiar sporting event is its most unique and challenging aspect. The one who masters the weather – beyond the competition and the track – is the one who masters the race.

Ponder that a moment. Dario Franchitti didn’t just luck into his win last year; his crew outfoxed the skies. Buddy Rice did the same in 2004, screaming with joy over the radio while folks in the higher levels of the southwest vista watched a tornado dance near the airport. The Indianapolis 500 is nothing without the weather and what it does to the modern open-wheel race car. Hold this event indoors and it loses every bit of its appeal and intrigue. Hold it outdoors, and weather seeps into almost every corner of strategy. Weather makes this race.

A few weeks ago, during a lap around the track for a story detailing the quirks of the Speedway, Darren Manning cited the most important obstacle to making a vehicle go ridiculous speeds around a 2.5-mile racetrack. Wind. The first thing he does when he gets on pit road, Manning says, is check the windsock atop the scoring pylon. Then he checks the flags atop the grandstands. Wind almost always goes from southwest to northeast or northwest to southeast. It pulls and pushes and lifts the cars, attempting to send them into the fence or worse. Even a slight wind gives drivers a blast in Turn 2 or Turn 4 that threatens to send them to Greenwood or Zionsville or points beyond.

In that context, then, think back to Helio Castroneves’ pole-winning run in 2003 in a wind so ugly it should have been named. It’s a miracle anyone held on to a car in a 45 mph gale, let alone did four laps at 231.7 mph. Qualifying is always the craziest, riskiest thing drivers do at the Speedway. That specific day, and that specific run, will forever rank among the craziest and riskiest. And best.

Know why? Yep. Because of the weather.

In the face of a grimy, crummy day Thursday, teams turned an ambitious 2,700 laps – nearly two-thirds the total they had accumulated the entire month – yet nobody crashed. Then, in the face of rare sunshine Friday, two drivers crashed in the first 45 minutes of practice. In the middle of the best conditions of the month, one began to wonder why some of the top teams – namely Andretti Green – hadn’t done much with it. Then, around 4:15, front-row starter Ryan Briscoe crashed his T-car, and the answer was spoken.

The weather is and always will be the primary player in the Indianapolis 500. Ever since wings first appeared on cars in the early ’70s and airflow became the most essential component in the process of going fast, all elements of meteorology have been in play. Wind speed and direction. Humidity. Track temp. Ambient temp. Sunlight. Cloud cover. Barometric pressure. Weather at Indy isn’t just a side effect. It is the main effect.

There isn’t one team worth its anemometer that isn’t hooked into Doppler on pit road. Walk into any garage in Gasoline Alley and you’ll find the TVs tuned to the Weather Channel. All of the rainouts this month (in all, 30-some hours of track time have been lost to weather) have altered the approach of every team on the grounds. More lousy conditions are expected Saturday, further altering the approach and strategy.

Now it’s not just about what the track will be like, but when it will be like what they think it will be like. Rain is supposed to become a threat sometime around 2 p.m., and 22 spots on the grid are open. Does one rush it or take it easy? Does one present at the beginning of the day or risk it to wait for better conditions? Will it rain or won’t it? And if it doesn’t, how will weather affect the track? Will it lose grip? Will the wind pick up? And from what direction? In other words, almost every single decision comes down to weather.

The best Indy 500 radio conversation in recent years took place just moments before rain made a winner of Franchitti and turned Briscoe’s car into a rolling Jacuzzi. Family and friends of AGR crew members began ringing their cell phones to say it was raining nearby. First, it was raining in Brownsburg. Then it was raining near I-465. Then it was raining three blocks away. Each advance of the squall was relayed to Franchitti.

The spoken message from pits to driver carried an unspoken message, a signal that Franchitti was getting closer and closer to victory. What was ugly for others was beautiful to the winner.

So don’t dread it. Embrace it. Weather is, above all else, king of the Indianapolis 500.


Jeff Olson is a Senior Writer for RACER magazine. For details about the current issue, visit www.racer.com.

The opinions reflected herein are solely those of the above commentator and are not necessarily those of SPEEDtv.com, FOX, NewsCorp, SPEED, or Haymarket Worldwide.