The Last Time They Were This Fast
The 2022 Indianapolis 500 saw the fastest front row qualifiers since 1996, the last time a new track record was set. Image via Chris Jones/Penske Entertainment
The last few years have been a bit of a renaissance for the NTT IndyCar Series in terms of talent. From the emergence of future global motorsport superstars like Colton Herta and Pato O’Ward, to the open-wheel migration of legends like Jimmie Johnson and Scott McLaughlin, to ex-Formula 1 drivers like Marcus Ericsson and Romain Grosjean settling in, the recent additions to the driver roster have settled in nicely alongside longtime front-runners like Scott Dixon, Will Power, Josef Newgarden, and Alexander Rossi.
That talent couldn’t have been on better display than it was in last weekend’s Indianapolis 500 qualifying, where three rounds of time trials across two days saw history being made. 16 of the 20 fastest qualifying runs in event history were posted across those two days, with Dixon, teammate and defending series champion Alex Palou, and Rinus VeeKay comprising the fastest front row in 500 history.
Scott Dixon accepts his fifth Indianapolis 500 Pole Award, just one shy of tying Rick Mears’ all-time record. Image via Chris Owens/Penske Entertainment
Dixon’s pole-winning speed of 234.046 miles per hour—that’s the average speed over four laps, remember, not just one—wasn’t just good for his fifth pole at this event, it was also the fastest pole-winning time in race history, and the second-fastest run ever. Even Johnson, the slowest qualifier in Sunday’s Fast 12, proved that he belonged at the front of the field with a thrilling near-miss that proved the ex-NASCAR champion hasn’t lost a step on big, fast ovals. It still wasn’t enough to knock him out of the 230s.
It's been nearly a quarter of a century since speeds this fast have come to the front row at Indianapolis. To look back at the last time is to dig up some conflicted and painful memories of the sport’s past. But it’s also an illustration of just how far the sport has come in that time, not only in terms of who’s competing, but also what it’s taken to get cars back up to these speeds safely.
Tony Stewart leads the 1996 Indianapolis 500 field into Turn 1 at the start of the race. Image via IUPUI/IMS Collection
The 1996 Indy Racing League season was comprised of just three rounds. The last of these would be the 80th Indianapolis 500, as the upstart series attempted to establish a new calendar that would start each summer and finish on Memorial Day weekend. Between this and a unique “25-8” rule where the top 25 teams in IRL points coming into the race would receive guaranteed starting spots in the event, there’d be a fresh set of intrigue at the race, with not only a champion set to be crowned, but also some protection for big names to start after the high-profile DNQs of Bobby Rahal and Al Unser Jr. in recent years.
Except, of course, the IRL was the renegade, start-up series, competing against the long-running Championship Auto Racing Teams for American open-wheel fans’ attention. Indianapolis Motor Speedway owner Tony George conceived of the IRL as a means to get more American drivers into his premier race, and built a new series around the idea. The rulebook for the first year would also embrace previous-year CART machinery, with 1995 spec and older cars allowed to compete—and new CART chassis ineligible.
Arie Luyendyk started second in 1995 with Team Menard, before jumping ship for Byrd-Treadway Racing in 1996. Image via Indianapolis Motor Speedway
While the CART teams could have overpowered the IRL by running the two prior events at the all-new Walt Disney World and defector Phoenix ovals, the series instead took the declaration of war and ran with it. Some CART operations sold their older-spec equipment to IRL teams, and the series created a rival event, the US 500 at Michigan, to run the same day. That event would also feature a standalone qualifying session that directly conflicted with the first weekend of Indy qualifying, effectively preventing any CART team from running both races unless it sent an entirely different group of personnel to Indy with an old car.
With the “stars and cars” elsewhere, Indy’s entry list was uniquely constructed, to say the least. AJ Foyt Enterprises was the only full-time CART team to make the complete jump for the entire first year of IRL competition, and expanded to multiple full-time entries for the first time in decades. Dick Simon Racing would keep a hand in both on a regular basis, but after partnering with Andy Evans’ Team Scandia, would put more of its focus on the upstart division. Other part-time or Indy-focused former CART teams like Team Menard, Hemelgarn Racing, Pagan Racing, and Project Indy were also on hand, while CART regulars Galles Racing and Walker Racing would create Indy-only programs for Davy Jones and Mike Groff, respectively, to appease their sponsors.
Gone were names like Andretti, Unser, and Fittipaldi. In their place was an entry list that featured more rookies than it did drivers who had previously run the race, although names like Roberto Guerrero, Eliseo Salazar, and Eddie Cheever had finished in the top five before, and a highly touted up-and-comer named Tony Stewart was proving to be as advertised in his move up from winning the USAC Triple Crown the year before. But the dash for the pole would come down to two drivers: 1990 race winner Arie Luyendyk, and defending polesitter Scott Brayton.
1996 was to be Scott Brayton’s first full-time American open-wheel season in three years. Image via 1996 Indy 200 at Walt Disney World race program/Chris Leone Collection
While the IRL was designed as a means to propel more young American drivers like Stewart into open-wheel superstardom, it also served as a lifeline for a talented slate of veteran racers who had found themselves on the outside looking in for the previous few years. After nearly a decade of competing for both his family team and Hemelgarn, Brayton had been a full-timer with Simon for five years from 1989 to 1993 before losing his ride to the Panasonic-backed Hiro Matsushita. He’d land with Team Menard for Indy-only entries over the next two years, in part because his family had built numerous turbocharged Buick V6s before the brand left CART, and Menard’s team continued to rely on the powerplants in part because of their record-setting pace in qualifying.
Luyendyk’s career had taken a disappointing turn of its own after his Indy triumph in 1990. Team owner Doug Shierson sold his operation before 1991, and while Luyendyk took two wins with the new, Vince Granatelli-led operation, he’d end up running more IROC races than CART ones in 1992 after the underfunded team shut down. Seasons with Chip Ganassi Racing and Indy Regency Racing proved that Luyendyk still had the speed to go for wins on the big ovals, with runner-up finishes at Indy in 1993 and Michigan in 1994.
Both drivers would run for Menard in 1995, with Brayton the faster qualifier on the pole and Luyendyk the better finisher in seventh. But Fred Treadway and Jonathan Byrd would have other plans for Luyendyk in 1996, signing the Dutch driver to their new operation. Luyendyk would run sans teammate at Indy this time around, while Brayton would lead a multi-car Menard operation that also featured Cheever, Stewart, and Mark Dismore.
Jonathan Byrd (L) tapped Arie Luyendyk to lead his team into battle for the inaugural IRL season. Image via 1996 Indy 200 at Walt Disney World race program/Chris Leone Collection
While the two veterans were preparing for battle, it was Stewart who would throw the first volley in Rookie Orientation. His blistering speed of 237.336 mph on Monday would break the unofficial track record, and was nearly nine miles per hour faster than anyone else that day. He’d also lead a Menard 1-2-3 on Tuesday over Cheever and Brayton before a Wednesday washout.
Thursday saw Luyendyk return serve—in his backup car, no less—with a top speed of 237.774. The next day, he’d push the Ford Cosworth XB-equipped Reynard 94I even faster, posting the fastest practice lap in event history at 239.260. As Treadway Racing had entered the backup car as #35, its number would be swapped with the team’s primary (and locked-in) #5 per IRL approval in time for Saturday’s Pole Day.
Ironically, the ex-backup car would suffer an engine issue during open practice that day, forcing Luyendyk to go back to his original primary car to make a qualifying run. Time trials would kick off at 2PM with Lyn St. James the first to roll off, and eventual race winner Buddy Lazier cracking the 230 mph barrier right after her. At 2:20, Jones and Galles would break the one- and four-lap track records that Roberto Guerrero had set four years earlier, and the rout of the record books was on.
Tony Stewart spent much of Pole Day in 1996 atop the scoring pylon. Image via 1996 Indianapolis 500 race program/Chris Leone Collection
Two runs later, Richie Hearn would set the rookie four-lap record. It would last all of five minutes. Stewart’s 233.179 hot lap, and 233.100 average, made him just the fifth rookie in history to set both overall records. Cheever’s 231.781 and Brayton’s 231.535 would also put them in the mix up front, and Dismore’s 227.260 at just after 3:40PM would all but guarantee all four Menard-backed entries a spot in the race.
Finally, after having to go back to Plan A, Luyendyk would wheel the renumbered #35 Reynard 95I-Ford he’d originally entered as his primary car onto the track at 5:27PM, more than half an hour after the most recent attempt had been made. A first lap of 231.756 was promising, although it’d have only been good for a second-row spot. But while most Indy qualifying runs get slower as they go on, Luyendyk’s only went faster. He’d hit 233.058 on his second lap, and crack 234 on each of the next two, to post an average speed of 233.390—good enough to top Stewart on all counts.
Team Menard, seen here in 1996 preseason testing, worked quickly to prepare another car for Brayton. Image via 1996 Indy 200 at Walt Disney World race program/Chris Leone Collection
Suddenly, a shock move: Brayton’s #2 car—the one that was guaranteed to start in the race no matter what—was off the board. Two minutes later, Brayton’s #32 backup car, which had only run 13 laps that morning and not yet broken the 235 barrier that the primary had, was out on the track, in the ultimate all-or-nothing move at 5:42PM, attempting to deny Luyendyk his second 500 pole.
With his pedal to the metal, and Stewart encouraging the crowd, lap one was good enough: 233.675 mph. Lap two would falter slightly at 233.536, but was still tracking clear of Luyendyk’s average. Yet again, though, Brayton would find another gear for his final two laps; he wouldn’t crack 234 the way Luyendyk did, but he’d post a pair of 233.8s to establish an average speed of 233.718. The total time difference between the two qualifying runs was just .216 seconds over 10 miles. A few moments later, Scott Sharp would wave off the last run of the day, and that was that. Luyendyk would keep the one-lap record, while Brayton would take the pole.
Davy Jones (L), Scott Brayton, and Tony Stewart, the top three official qualifiers after 1996 Indianapolis 500 Pole Day. Image via IUPUI/IMS Collection
It turned out that a Menard car would have sat on the pole anyway. Luyendyk’s car, prepared by a first-year team, would be found seven pounds underweight just hours after its qualifying run. As a result, the time was disallowed, and Stewart would move up to second on the grid. While somewhat embarrassed by the oversight, Luyendyk and company were undeterred, returning to the 94I on the second day of qualifying and posting the record qualifying speeds that stand at IMS to this day: 236.986 across four laps, and 237.498 on the last of them. The front row, meanwhile, would be more than two miles per hour faster on average than the previous year’s, taking down yet another record that would stand for more than a quarter century.
Six days later, Scott Brayton would be killed instantly of a basilar skull fracture after a cut tire deflated and sent him into the Turn 2 wall during a practice session.
Scott Brayton’s helmet sits on the pit wall in 1995. Image via IUPUI/IMS Collection
26 years on, Brayton’s death remains the most recent at the Speedway during the month of May itself (Tony Renna would lose his life in a private testing crash in October 2003). The IRL had long planned to introduce a new formula in 1997 anyway, and the larger, normally aspirated engines would slow 500 qualifying speeds dramatically. Luyendyk would get his second pole and his second win the next year, but his pole speed of 218.263 wouldn’t have even come close to making the field the previous year. In contrast, CART would continue to build off its existing formula, with Gil de Ferran setting the all-time closed course speed record at California Speedway four years later with a qualifying speed of 241.428 in a Reynard-Honda for Penske.
But professional motorsport has undergone a badly needed safety renaissance over the past quarter-century, after legendary drivers from Dale Earnhardt to Dan Wheldon have given their lives in competition across various series. The current Dallara IR-18 shares some visual cues with its predecessors but features substantial changes within and around the cockpit. Innovations like the HANS device and tethers, while seeming like common sense to the modern race fan, were years if not decades off from widespread use when Brayton and Luyendyk went to battle.
Each time speeds would creep back up at Indianapolis, pushed up in part by the defection of former CART teams in the waning years of the American open-wheel split, a rules change would bring them back down. Back-to-back speeds in the 230s in 2002 and 2003 gave way to Buddy Rice’s 222.024 in 2004 when the displacement changed, and even the move back to turbos in 2012 with a new chassis package represented a drop in speed.
Ed Carpenter’s three Indianapolis 500 poles place him in elite company: he’s one of just three active drivers, and 10 overall, with three or more starts from the inside of Row 1. Image via Joe Skibinski/Penske Entertainment
Ed Carpenter would be the next to crack the 230s in 2014, while Dixon’s 232.164 in 2017 in the last year of manufacturer-specific aero kits was nearly marred by a spectacular incident that destroyed his car, but still let him walk away. Finally, after years of rumors and development, IndyCar introduced the aeroscreen, developed by Red Bull Advanced Technologies, to shield drivers in the cockpit from 2020 forward. While the cockpits are less exposed than ever before, the top remains open, allowing fans to continue to watch the drivers at work and preserving an element that fans and many drivers alike wanted to keep.
Thus far, its addition has coincided with the return of the 230s. Marco Andretti scored a popular pole with a speed of 231.068 behind closed doors during the COVID-impacted 2020 edition, while Dixon bettered him at 231.685 the following year. Both drivers actually posted faster speeds in the preliminary qualifying rounds before times were reset for the pole shootout.
Dixon’s 234.046 marked the first time since Carpenter in 2018 that the pole-winning run was the fastest qualifying attempt of the month. Image via Matt Fraver/Penske Entertainment
Sunday’s performance, though, brought back shades of what made qualifying at Indianapolis so special over the years when records regularly fell. Sure, the event is different now; bumping is the luxury of a field with more than 33 cars rather than the end of a two-weekend qualifying process, there’s much less practice, and the festivities start with an actual race on the IMS road course.
But plenty remains the same. These days, it’s VeeKay carrying the Dutch flag and driving for a team, Ed Carpenter Racing, whose roots are firmly planted in Indianapolis. Carpenter himself, George’s stepson and the only owner-driver in the field, typically leads the part-timers looking to run up front these days. The teams that skipped the 1996 edition came back, one by one, until the sport reunified in 2008, and drivers who lost the chance to run at Indy in the prime of their careers would return, in some way or another, to chase a 500 ring.
And for about five exhilarating minutes on Sunday afternoon, a former polesitter named Scott would close off the day with a run that would enter the Indianapolis 500 record books, reminding us just what chasing speed records at the Speedway feels like.