The Bathurst 1000 is more than just Australia's greatest motor race. For the thousands who make the annual pilgrimage to Mount Panorama, it is a week-long ritual built on friendship, tradition and more than a few unforgettable stories.
Two of the event's most devoted fans, Tony Hawton and Dale Sudholz, have spent a combined century at the Mountain. Their experiences span everything from the infamous 'slab-a-day' rule to exploding cans of baked beans, and they say the event remains as special now as it was decades ago.
What makes the Bathurst 1000 so special?
Hawton first made the trip to Mount Panorama in 1977. This year marks his 49th Bathurst 1000, a streak interrupted only by the COVID-affected 2020 event. What began as a racing pilgrimage has evolved into something far deeper.
After camping on top of the Mountain for five years, Hawton moved to the paddock behind the pits in 1983. In the early 2000s, he and a group of friends established what they call the 'Flagg Inn', a collection of around 10 campsites that now hosts roughly 26 or 27 people each year, with about 80 flags flying above the site.
Some of the group travel from across New South Wales. Others Hawton sees only once a year. Now he shares the tradition with his grandson, who is attending his seventh Bathurst.
Sudholz's history goes back even further. He first arrived in 1969, driving two days from a farm outside Horsham in Victoria with mates before sleeping in the car. He has missed just one year since. After running race teams at the event in the late 1970s, he returned as a camper and helped start the 'Bathurst Hilton' in 1983. What began as a 12x12 tent and a barbecue has become a 43-year tradition.
Once you get hooked on this place, well, it's in your blood and you're here for life.Dale Sudholz, Bathurst 1000 fan
What is the 'slab-a-day' rule at Bathurst?
Drinking has long been part of the Bathurst fan culture, but the event now has clear limits. Each person may bring in one of the following per day: a carton of full-strength beer (up to 24 cans of 375ml or less at five per cent alcohol or less), a carton of light or mid-strength beer, a carton of pre-mixed spirits, a carton of cider, a sealed cask of wine up to four litres, two 375ml plastic bottles of spirits, or one 750ml plastic bottle of spirits.
When these restrictions were introduced, Sudholz recalls a global misunderstanding about the 'slab-a-day' rule.
A few years ago when you talk about the slab-a-day caper, when that came in there was a report that went viral around the world that it was mandatory that you had to drink a slab-a-day. Some of the comments on forums around the world were, 'How do you get to see the race on Sunday if you've got to drink a slab-a-day?'Dale Sudholz
The rule is optional, not mandatory. But drinking has long been part of the Mountain's culture. Sudholz remembers fans cracking open a beer first thing on race morning in the 1970s, though he believes things have become more civilised.
Hawton has watched the culture shift across his 49 visits. He spent five years camping on top of the Mountain and saw the downsides of excess.
Probably some of the worst memories are the people that were drunk and asleep on the ground when the race started. And you think, 'What are they here for?' Whereas I always come for the racing and, yes, have a beer or two.Tony Hawton
When did things get wild on the Mountain?
Sudholz has witnessed some extraordinary scenes over more than five decades. Before changes around 2000, an area at the top of the Mountain known as the 'Bull Pit' was notorious.
People used to bring old bomb cars and used to just drive them until they blew up sort of thing. They'd tip them over and throw some petrol on them and set them on fire, really seriously getting out of control up there through boredom, people doing that.Dale Sudholz
New rules have made the Mountain safer and more family-friendly, but the spirit of improvisation remains. Sudholz notes people still find ways to amuse themselves, including wheelie-bin rides down the racetrack after hours.
One of his funniest memories involves no cars at all. In the early 1980s, two young men from Sydney placed an unspiked can of baked beans in a campfire.
They're both sitting around this thing, looking at it, watching it to see what was going to happen. And all of a sudden the can blew and baked beans went up over them. That would be 40, 42 years ago and I can still visualise the baked beans dripping off the front of these people's faces.Dale Sudholz
Why do fans keep returning to Bathurst?
For Hawton, the excitement begins before he reaches the track.
When I drive down the Great Western Highway, honestly, I might sound silly to you, but as soon as I see the Mount Panorama sign, as hard as I try, I cannot stop going goosey on the back of the neck and the arms. I just love this place so much.Tony Hawton
After 49 trips, the meaning has shifted. It is no longer just about the racing.
It's about catching up with friends I haven't seen for 12 months of camp with us here. It's about the whole atmosphere of the place. It's not just about the race anymore. It's about everything from yesterday morning when we got here till next Monday when we go home.Tony Hawton
He hopes his grandson will one day carry on the tradition. For first-time visitors, Sudholz offers simple advice: walk the track.
You've got to walk the track and understand the steepness of it going from turn two up to the Cutting. Once you get up to Reid Park and up to the top, it's a hell of a climb, I can tell you, and you need a V8 to get up there.Dale Sudholz
What does the future hold for the Bathurst 1000?
For Hawton, the countdown to the next event begins almost immediately after the current one ends.
When I go home on Monday, I'll be saying to my wife, you know, 'It's only 51 weeks and we're back up there.' I'm just still as passionate about coming here 49 years later as what I was when my brother first brought me up here in 1977. Just absolutely love coming here.Tony Hawton
The Bathurst 1000 continues to draw generations of fans, each with their own stories. For Hawton and Sudholz, the Mountain has become part of who they are. And as Sudholz puts it, once it gets hold of you, it never lets go.
