The Döttinger Höhe in all its glory, by the one and only Rotary Engine Apologist, or @atrocidadcasera, on Twitter!

As I begin typing these words, the mild excitement/exhaustion surrounding the 54th edition of the Nürburgring 24h has long disappeared in the rearview mirror – in fact, I am currently counting the minutes as yet another regular Wednesday at work comes to a close. Despite that, my fingers are itching for a go at doing this again… So be it!

The 2026 N24 saw plenty of mixed fortunes, both on and off the track. A new attendance record, with upwards of 350,000 fans over the weekend, certainly cannot hurt the event’s fortunes – even with the reason behind the massive increase from last year’s already impressive 280,000 being doubtlessly connected to the presence of one Max Verstappen.

Leaving aside the (frankly annoying and useless) debate about “one person being bigger than the entire sport”, when paired with an absolutely stacked entry list – the largest one in twelve years, including fan-favourites such as the one-off, not-a-joke BMW M3 Touring 24H and the “People’s Princess” a.k.a. the returning Dacia Logan – the stage had been set for what undoubtedly should’ve been a classic.

At least that seemed to be the general consensus as the Top Qualifying sessions wrapped up on Friday, when an unexpected all-Lamborghini front row had everybody in a stunned silence. By the time the chequered flag was waved on Sunday afternoon, however, the mood and general feeling about the race as a whole had turned completely on its head, with optimism giving way to mostly harsh criticism and disinterest.

The pre-race Balance of Performance “adjustments”, in my view, are the biggest culprits – when you have extremely capable teams being handicapped prior to the start, despite not really qualifying well, those who are in the know might start to suspect something could be going on behind the scenes. The performance (or lack thereof) from several usual frontrunners seen in the twice-around-the-clock contest can only be deemed as mystifying, for the lack of better (or non-accusatory) words.

The enjoyment from the close running seen in the early stages or so soon gave way to what I’ve been referring to as the First Quarter Massacre, given all the carnage that played out during the race’s first six hours. The Markers of Doom were busier than ever during that period of the race, with a long list of top flight contenders eliminated in what felt like a continuous, neverending series of unfortunate events.

By the end of the sixth hour, things were pretty much decided for the rest of the race, with the two Winward-run Mercedes at the head of the field and nobody else able to put up a challenge for the remaining eighteen hours – or, as you might’ve seen me tweet, “pretending to fight” for however long was left on the clock at that moment. Following a close call between them at some point near the halfway mark, the order was essentially frozen to the end, and a high-speed parade was on the cards. Entertaining, is it not?

Were it not for the late-race drama involving the No. 3 Mercedes’s mechanical troubles and slight bits of speculation over whether the No. 80 sister car could suffer from the same fate or not, one could be forgiven for rating the whole affair as a rather unremarkable one, no matter how high the stakes.

While all this is very likely to sound biased – those who know me are well aware I was backing the BMWs and the sole Ferrari, while openly cheering against the Winward pair – I was not the only one visibly disappointed at how things went. From Twitter timelines to comment sections everywhere, there was plenty of discontent at the way the race played out. “Boring”, “bland”, “processional” – not to mention a few more uncouth terms – were some of the more common adjectives thrown in the mix.

Today, however, three days following the conclusion of the race, I’ve been doing a fair bit of self-reflection about things, and I cannot help but feel slightly ashamed. Have we grown so used to close finishes and nail-biting contests for the lead – usually resulting from sometimes unnecessary Full Course Yellows to bunch the field up all the time – that we have now become unable to appreciate when a present-day endurance race echoes what it would’ve probably looked like ten, twenty, thirty years ago?

One look down memory lane will tell us it was pretty much the norm for race winners to position themselves just out of reach after a few hours, while the rest of the competition – including faster cars with stronger lineups – fell by the wayside or encountered problem after problem. Given the unique nature of the full 25 km layout (or 15 miles, if that’s your cup of tea), Safety Cars and other “normal” kinds of neutralisation procedures are not used by any means, therefore making it extremely difficult to catch back up if you hit any kind of issue or get slapped with a penalty. It also means the N24 is probably the closest example we have, today, of a “pure” and unfiltered endurance contest (when you discount the BoP effect and as long as The Fog stays away…)

Which brings us to another point of reflection: at the end of the day, what constitutes a “classic” kind of race? As philosophical as I’ve just become about something rather trivial, I’ve only just come to realise I still don’t seem to have a definite answer to that kind of question. Is it non-stop action and drama? Is it a more “traditional” kind of thing, like we saw this weekend?

What about the 350,000+ people on site? Everything I mentioned above would hardly be an issue to them, one way or another. The festive atmosphere around the Ring, the enjoyment of all the sights and sounds of over 150 cars echoing around the Eifel Mountains and the consumption of unhealthy amounts of sausage mattered way more than simply having wheel-to-wheel battles for the overall lead throughout the entirety of the 24 Hours. To these guys, simply being there and soaking it all in is more than enough. It’s all a matter of perspective, even if your favourites hit trouble at the end of the first lap.

All that’s left to us, the chronically online (and chronically nitpicky) people, always on the hunt for something to complain about, is celebrate and pay attention to random little moments such as the Dacia overcoming its trials and tribulations to get across the finish line, or the M3 Touring’s consistency to achieve an unreal top five finish, or even the pole-sitting Lamborghini snatching second place at the last possible opportunity to complete a comeback drive few thought would be possible.

In the end, the No. 80 Winward guys and girls simply achieved what they set out to do in the first place. Congratulations to them. Should they return to defend their crown, that No. 1 will be more than deserved.

That said, onto 2027 we roll, with an (we hope!) actually competitive affair from start to finish on the cards.

P.S.: Anybody got a fast wagon or two lying around? It’s an interesting trend we could keep going…