24 Hours of Le Mans: A weekend behind the scenes in France with Wakefield’s United Autosports

Yorkshire folk may have even wandered past United’s compound, blissfully unaware of the plans to make history being laid out behind its walls. Once a year, in June, Yorkshire firepower descends upon the French countryside.

I spent the weekend burrowed in the United camp, soaking in the sheer scale of the operation and its quirky contrasts. There are dirtied hands working tirelessly in temporary garages, pouring sweat into the quest for glory. There is also extravagant pageantry, showmanship and flash drenched in class.

The entire city of Le Mans seemingly lines the streets for the driver’s parade. Every corner turned, an excitable crowd awaits. Grown adults battle children for free wristbands and hats that are thrown into the crowd.

Back at the track, imposing team emblems populate the sky, offering a persistent reminder of the prestige. The world’s biggest manufacturers are back at Le Mans this year - Ferrari, Porsche, Lamborghini, Toyota, Audi - all of them chasing Hypercar glory.

French football legend Zinedine Zidane waves the drivers off. Simple Minds belt out hits as night falls. Le Mans, as Jim Kerr would say, is alive and kicking.

Yet, embedded within United’s camp, there is something distinctly Yorkshire about it all. The operation is expansive beyond what most could fathom but everyone seems to know everyone.

Young and old converse like old school friends and no member of staff appears of unimportance. In a world of intense glamour, with champagne and racing cars aplenty, it is a reassuring element.

For all the modernity, there are subtle nods to history scattered throughout the sprawling landscape. Grainy footage of years gone by places emphasis upon what came before, what helped make Le Mans such a grand tradition.

The event may be glossy but the action itself is gritty, relentless in its challenges and enthralling with its blend of beauty and danger. There is an intense physical toll and drivers are visibly exhausted when changeovers happen.

In the heat of the battle, the pageantry and the showmanship fades and all the drivers are left with is their wits, and the knowledge that behind them in the garage is a team working tirelessly to make their drive as challenge-free as possible. It is this constant need for excellence, for precision and focus, that has fans peeling their eyelids open as the race goes through the night.

United have more than one dog in the fight. In the LMP2 class, two sets of driver teams battle it out. In the LMGT3 class, a further two teams compete as a product of a partnership with McLaren Automotive.

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The drivers come from far and wide yet share the United spirit of openness and kindness. It certainly wasn’t a show for a reporter either - they did not have a clue who I was.

Among United’s drivers is LMP2 star Filipe Albuquerque, a bona fide Le Mans icon with a 2020 win at the track on his CV. An affable figure, he receives the most acclaim from the public as United’s cars make their way through the parade. Ben Keating, another former Le Mans winner, is also mobbed.

To exist in the world of motorsport, its stars must be characters and manage the expectation of fans with decorum. As in other elite sports, much is expected of them before they don their kit. They must be motorsport drivers in more than just their driving and United’s roster are well-versed in how to play both sides.

When the race started, at 4pm on the Saturday, I had already been well and truly sucked in. I was hooked on the 24 Hours of Le Mans as a spectacle, less than 48 hours after landing in France for the first time since I was 10.

Excitement at the Circuit de la Sarthe only grew as the sun retreated and night fell on Le Mans. It was eerie and alluring in equal measure. Humid heat quickly gave way to the icy cold of night.

Crowds were divided between those wanting sleep and those wishing to power on, be it through partying or studious focus on the track. I opted for the latter… with the assistance of a few cups of coffee.

While there were ebbs and flows away from the track, activity was consistent on it and in the garages. While watching on television, it would be easy to assume pit stop work was purely reactive but there is little staff are not aware of.

Mechanics and engineers are glued to screens, honed in to pick up on any potential issues that may arise. It is a tense environment, but it has to be. When Keating gets stuck in the gravel within the opening hour, activity is dialled up significantly.

Potential blips are sought out to allow for the cooking up of solutions, with such activities being emulated across the sprawling line of rival garages.

Driver changeovers are a sight to behold, as are the pit stops that fly by so quickly you wonder how they could have had time to do anything. The drivers take centre stage but the old ‘team effort’ cliche has never been more appropriate. If the engineers are not slick, the team quite simply cannot function at the required level.

Drama intensifies between 5am and 7am, as hot tyres on cold tracks make for breathtakingly quick lap times. It is fast and it is furious, even if none of the cars leap between buildings. It brings me back to life more than any amount of coffee ever could.

As Sunday progresses, fans who resorted to slumber begin to drip back into the action. The hum becomes a buzz again, with the ear-splitting noise of engines once again falling back into the midst of screams and cheers.

There is heartbreak, too, as months of work is squandered by uncontrollable variables for some. Others develop a glint in their eyes as the possibility of their sacrifices paying off increases.

Tension mounts gradually as the end of the race looms, with energy levels rising along with the desperation of drivers to ensure a strong finish. There are more glazed eyes in the United camp as the hours tick towards 24, but absolute focus remains.

The garage is packed for the final 20 minutes of the race. United lead in the LMP2 class and the anxiety in the room is palpable. Hands clutch faces, potentially due to fatigue but more likely due to nerves.

When Oliver Jarvis comes in victorious, a sea of smiling faces erupt into cheers and cries of relief.

I had been warned of an abrupt end to the proceedings, of how quickly equipment is packed away. Even as your body wills you to sleep, there is something profoundly sad about seeing the temporary spaces deconstructed.

A rest is all you seem to want until it all goes away. I can imagine it is that feeling of longing for more that makes Le Mans such a drug.

In the United camp, tongue-in-cheek talk of how they will “never do it again” is rife. As far as sporting spectacles go, there can be few as draining as a 24-hour endurance event.

Yet, they will, most likely, be there again. Tents will fill the fields. Fans will descend upon the area, pouring money into the bars and restaurants decorated with chequered flags. It will be circled emphatically in calendars, earmarked as one to look forward to should there be a return.

United’s co-founder, Yorkshireman Richard Dean, had spoken of the event’s “strangely addictive” nature in an interview with The Yorkshire Post.

“By Sunday night of race day, everybody in the team swears they’re never going to do it again,” he said. “It really takes every last ounce out of you.

"There’s something strangely addictive. You tend to always go back for more. You get a couple of nights of sleep and you’re looking at the date in your diary for the following year. Once the pain disappears, you end up coming back again.

“It’s the one that takes the most preparation. It’s the one that takes the most out of everybody as a team. And it’s probably the most rewarding – as an achievement, financial from sponsorship and notoriety, and business opportunities it creates. Le Mans is probably number one.”

Which makes United’s victory this year to go with their breakthrough win in 2020 when there was no one in the stands due to Covid, all the more sweeter.

I had wondered if I would feel that way, whether I would feel drawn to an event I had only ever caught glimpses of in clips. I had pondered whether the pain Dean spoke of was something I could override with avid interest. I can wholeheartedly say it was.

The link between Normanton and Le Mans may surprise people and it would be safe to assume there were Yorkshire residents watching on via Eurosport, unaware of their representation.

2024 brought only disappointment for United’s other teams but they were hardly alone in their heartbreak. The race would be stripped of its grandeur were it not crushing to lose.

However as United started to vacate the French countryside, they did so knowing they had put Yorkshire well and truly on the motorsport map.