DOUGLAS, Isle of Man – The Isle of Man TT is 37.73 miles of twisting, rolling, climbing public roads that make the Nürburgring Nordschleife look like a go kart track. So sinewy and numerous are its bends that it was once famously decreed “unlearnable,” and its notoriously unforgiving nature is matched only by its prolific death toll.
From Glen Helen to Greeba Castle, the lack of runoff and nasty propensity for unplanned high-speed meetings with stone walls, lamp posts, store fronts and tree trunks makes death and dismemberment a rather binary affair on this island that’s barely a 30-minute flight across the Irish Sea from Birmingham.
But here’s something you might not know about the Isle of Man: While hundreds of racers have lost their lives in competition over the last century or so, exponentially more non-racers have met their makers during the two-week period in which rampant race culture takes over the otherwise sleepy bedroom island.
Last year alone, 34 civilian riders ended up in a body bag, many of them on “Mad Sunday,” the day when the course is open to anyone with a pulse and a willingness to push the limits of their luck. Fatality figures for regular riders often go unreported because when victims are airlifted back to the mainland, those deaths are officially reported as occurring off the Isle.
The starting grid just so happens to be conveniently flanked by a graveyard, but I’ve got cheerier things on my mind at the moment: Subaru, title sponsors of the TT, have persuaded the race organizers to allow journalists to negotiate the live course for the first time on four wheels. The powers that be must have a sense of adventure: When rally champion Mark Higgins was attempting to break the course record (which he eventually did) in a Subaru WRX STI last year, he had a monumental “moment” on Bray Hill. More specifically, Higgins started sliding sideways at 155 mph, steering and countersteering furiously before finally regaining control at about 110 mph, at which point he almost instantly accelerated back to warp speed.
We’ve just landed on the island along with four other American journalists, the sky is expectant with rain and the toll is at five civilian fatalities so far. Our van tour of the route later that day is stalled by an incident in which “human debris” awaits the usual rigmarole of accident investigation photographs, trajectory studies, and cleanup.
Testing a 200-horsepower sports car has never been so nerve-racking.
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