Rosamond is a magical part of California— 80 miles north of Los Angeles, it’s the kind of rural where you can land a Cessna within about 90 percent of the city limits and face no consequences. Building permits and speed limits are suggestions swiftly disregarded, the kind of rural where a cop will pass you on a two lane road called something like West A street at one-hundred-and-ten with a nod. Thorny tumbleweeds, single story ranches, uninterrupted mountain views, Rosamond is where restlessness builds, a place nobody moves and few ever leave.
Ironic, then, that this empty township has become something of a haven for the automotive world— Willow Springs International Raceway, The Fastest Road in the West, calls Rosamond home, and happens to be where I find myself trekking to on this freezing April morning.
I was unsure during the week leading up to the Doghouse Garage Streets of Willow track day if I was actually going to make it— I knew that it would be a strong turnout, but the weather called for fairly substantial rain. While I’m all for laughing at Californians who stay in when it sprinkles like any other self-respecting LA transplant, with no way to protect my camera from the elements, the last thing I wanted to do was drive two hours to stare at an empty, wet track. Waking up Friday morning revealed bright, blue, clear skies and some mild wind, however, and so skeptically, I pressed post on last week’s Test Fit and packed up to head North.
There’s a freedom I feel setting off to cover track days, a mix of anticipation for a usually several hour long road trip and that rare, unbridled lightness that comes from making a day out of watching Hondas crack Vtec all afternoon. That joy carried me all the way to about San Fernando, where, with biblical proportions, the skies opened up the moment I merged onto the 14 North. Too far to turn back now, I swerved around the hazard light, left lane, 50 mph warriors and trudged forward, anxiously waiting for the ominous, dark clouds to part by the time I got over the valley.
Not helping the fear of a rained out event, I soon passed a group of track-prepped ZN8s heading South with fury, spotting the bright red Position Advance x Art of Attack GR86 leading the charge. Lunch, I told myself, they’re just grabbing lunch.
They were not, dear reader, grabbing lunch.
I ultimately found out that my late start to the day meant that I had avoided heavy rain during the drivers’ meeting and much of session one, meaning that by the time I got to the track to catch the last few run groups before lunch, most of the surface had dried, but a considerate group had already packed up and pushed off for the day.
Fortunately for me, however, the bold few who held out for clear skies ended up making the right call— the wind was bitter in a way that reminded me that not all of SoCal is *SoCal,* but the rest of the afternoon gracefully, remained dry.
As the last drivers of the morning pulled off to cash in their tickets for lunch, I took a lap around the pits— predictably for a Doghouse event, the paddock was mostly Hondas, and good Hondas at that. EK Hatches, FK8s, and DC2 Integras remain the weapon of choice, but interestingly, I found more Fits than I was expecting. I’m happy to see that they’re becoming an alternative option for track-prepped Honda hopefuls, and I had a lot of fun chatting with a few Fit owners about the much more upright seating position and obsession with destroying axles they offer over a comparable Civic.
Early season shakedowns seemed to be a general theme of the day, with many of the drivers finishing major restorations or upgrades in the lull between the new year and early Spring. Case in point, this DC2 owned by @shogunn__ on Instagram was getting its first laps in with a new turbo B18C, and was also my favorite styled bay of the event.
Maybe cliche to say at this point, but I was really hopeful given the number of tastefully roached fenders and heavily brake dust-coated wheels I was able to spot in the quiet few minutes I had left in the pit before drivers came back from racetrack chicken tender lunch. There’s a story in the way that real track cars pick up damage, and while I know I’ve been at too many car meets in the last few weeks, any time I get to see what a stylish, well built car looks like with the kind of earned patina that only comes from being used on track, it’s always still a little exciting. Narita Dogfight’s “Lower Your Track Car” stickers have found a receptive audience with Doghouse drivers.
Painfully aware of the wall of storm clouds rolling back in, I let the five minute warning call for advanced group announced over the charmingly ancient PA system serve as my call to hit the barriers with my zoom lens, and to get ready for an afternoon of faster splits and new fender welts to begin.
The views downwind of turn one of at Streets are exceptional, the kind of sight that convinces you for a second that maybe life out in Rosamond could make sense. My day dreams of becoming one of the many front-yard-S-chassis residents near the track were cut short, however, by the kind of bliss only derived from standing inches away from a symphony of B series motors blasting off past a lazily hung green flag.
I will not lie to you— I’m not great with track photography yet. I’m so used to shooting at higher shutter speeds, constantly trying to minimize jitter, that I forget when it’s useful to have some motion blur. I ended up cutting a lot of my photos from the day out of this article, but if you were at the event and want to see if I have any photos of you, please feel free to reach out! To the drivers I made look slow as a result of my lack of practice, I apologize. You were hauling ass in my heart.
Willow Springs is kind of a funny circuit to shoot at in general, because it constantly feels like you’re breaking the rules. The support roads around the compound are a labyrinth which overlap other skid pads and track layouts, so getting to the back end of the track means passing through other groups who love to stare at you with wonder and confusion as you drive past.
Cold weather aside, standing in the middle of spectacular views with a seemingly endless number of Hondas blasting past is a euphoric experience, and for those of you who haven’t had a chance to experience California car culture, I hope you get to enjoy moments like these soon. Whenever I get frustrated or bored of my usual circuit of car meets, an internet friend will occasionally remind me of the importance of hanging around with the kind of people who take a Friday off of work to go get faster— staring down an S2000 thrashing around Willow Springs, I make a mental note to thank him again for the advice.
With the last driver headed back towards the pit to pack up for the day, I thought I felt something on my head as I snapped off my lens and packed it back inside its soft case. By the time I took a left, past the wrought-iron gates telling me to get home safe, and back onto my first of several wildflower-lined Rosamond streets, the rain had full-on slicked the road in a greasy, wet sheet.
The drive home, in between moments of mild hydroplaning, was reflective. A stack of 100 things waited for me on my desk disapprovingly, and leaving each of them unfinished was the only thing that felt right in my chest. Fridays for me, thankfully, are not life-and-death, but missing an opportunity to waste an afternoon under an old, faded Budweiser sign might have been. Thankful in the moment to have not known what could’ve been, but instead for the opportunity to focus on what was, I pulled off into a Shell for a pack of Skittles and $10 worth of gas, just to watch the Hondas fly by one more time. ///RC
A huge thank you to the very cool people at Doghouse Garage for hosting a great event, and for being so kind as to let me cover it. If you drove last Friday and would like for me to check if I have any photos of you, please either send me a DM or shoot me an email at RacingCouture@Gmail.com with a description of your car, and I’d be more than happy to help.
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