Ghost tracks of F1: The forgotten circuits

Before the pristine runoffs and Tilke-designed corners of modern Formula 1, there existed a wilder era of racing – where circuits were carved from volcanoes, built on airport runways, and threaded through village streets. These forgotten tracks didn’t just host races; they forged legends, claimed lives, and ultimately shaped the sport we know today. Let’s walk through the ghosts of F1’s past.

AVUS – Berlin’s Brutalist Speed Temple

The Automobil-Verkehrs- und Übungsstraße wasn’t so much a racetrack as a statement in concrete. Two endless straights connected by a 43-degree concrete wall turn, AVUS was where engineers discovered just how fast cars could go – and drivers learned the limits of human courage. When Phil Hill averaged 188 km/h during the 1959 German GP, the writing was on the wall – this was too dangerous even for 1950s F1. The track’s final insult came in 1995 when a Mercedes CLR GT1 literally took flight during practice, ending AVUS’ racing career for good.

Pescara – Italy’s Coastal Gauntlet

Winding through Adriatic fishing villages, the 25.8km Pescara Circuit turned public roads into the longest, deadliest test in F1 history. Stirling Moss needed three hours of white-knuckle concentration to win here in 1957, later admitting he hallucinated from exhaustion. Locals would watch from their doorsteps as Ferraris and Maseratis flashed past at 290 km/h, close enough to rattle teacups. The circuit claimed its last victim in 1961 when a young Wolfgang von Trips crashed during practice, foreshadowing his fatal Monza accident weeks later.

Charade – The Volcano’s Playground

Nestled in the Auvergne’s dormant volcanoes, Circuit de Charade didn’t just challenge drivers – it actively tried to kill them. The track’s volcanic gravel became shrapnel during crashes, shredding tires and flesh alike. Jackie Stewart still carries scars from when the mountain spit him into a ravine in 1969. What made Charade magical – the natural amphitheater, the blind crests, the scent of wild thyme – was exactly what made it too dangerous to survive the safety revolution.

Nivelles-Baulers – Belgium’s Forgotten Mistake

Built to replace the lethal Spa-Francorchamps, Nivelles-Baulers was so sterile drivers actually petitioned to return to the old death trap. Its wide runoffs and flat corners made it safe – and utterly soulless. By 1974, the Belgian GP had become a farce, with more marshals than spectators. Today, the crumbling grandstands stand as monuments to when safety went too far.

Palmietfontein – Africa’s F1 Fever Dream
Johannesburg’s Palmietfontein Airport became South Africa’s unlikely F1 venue in 1956, its runway layout producing racing so chaotic even Juan Manuel Fangio struggled. The circuit’s brief moment in the sun ended when a local driver plowed into a timing hut during a support race, proving temporary circuits were exactly that – temporary.

Dijon-Prenois – Where Turbocharged Legends Were Born

The 1979 French GP at Dijon-Prenois gave us motorsport’s greatest duel – Villeneuve vs Arnoux, wheel-to-wheel for a full lap. What few remember is how the track’s cambers and crests made such heroics possible. When F1 outgrew the Burgundy countryside, Dijon faded into obscurity – but that one golden afternoon secured its immortality.

Montjuïc – Barcelona’s Beautiful Killer

Before the Olympics came the carnage. Montjuïc Park’s street circuit combined deadly elevation changes with laughable safety – straw bales and hope. The 1975 Spanish GP turned fatal when Rolf Stommelen’s car vaulted into the crowd, killing four spectators. Today, the Olympic stadium stands where cars once flew, the circuit’s memory buried under progress.

Sebring – America’s Bumpy Introduction

When F1 came to Sebring in 1959, the concrete-patched airfield tore suspensions apart and rattled fillings loose. Bruce McLaren called it “racing on a washboard” – but the track’s character left an impression. While unsuitable for F1, Sebring found its calling with endurance racing, leaving us to wonder what might have been.

Brands Hatch – Britain’s Lost Legend

For two decades, Brands Hatch’s swooping Indy circuit gave Silverstone a run for its money. The track’s natural amphitheater made every seat the best in the house, while its fearsome corners separated champions from pretenders. When F1’s growing size outgrew the Kent countryside, Brands became a monument to when racing was intimate and dangerous in equal measure.

Österreichring – The Original Red Bull Ring

Before its sanitized redesign, the Österreichring was a high-speed rollercoaster through the Styrian mountains. Its fearsome corners – like the downhill, off-camber Voest-Hugel – separated the brave from the broken. When Mark Donohue died here in 1975, it began the track’s road to obsolescence – though its spirit lives on in the modern Red Bull Ring’s fastest sections.

These ghost tracks whisper a cautionary tale. In pursuing safety and consistency, F1 lost something raw and beautiful. Yet their DNA survives – in Eau Rouge’s crest, Monaco’s tunnel, and every time a modern driver complains circuits have become too sterile. They remind us that before F1 became a science, it was an art – and art is sometimes messy, often dangerous, but always unforgettable.

For those willing to seek them out, some ghosts remain. The volcano still watches over Charade. AVUS’ concrete banking still stands near Berlin. And if you listen carefully at Brands Hatch on a quiet morning, you can almost hear the echo of Cosworth V8s bouncing off the trees. Almost.