In the heart of Berlin’s bustling highway system lies the ghost of a once-legendary racetrack — AVUS (Automobil-Verkehrs- und Übungsstraße), a name that still sparks the imagination of motorsport fans. What’s now a routine stretch of autobahn was once a terrifyingly fast racing circuit, where speed records were shattered and Formula 1 made a brief, unforgettable stop.
A Highway Turned Racetrack
AVUS opened in 1921 as one of the world’s earliest dedicated motor racing circuits — though technically, it was a closed section of public highway designed as a test track. Imagine two endless straights, each over 9 km long, joined at each end by a hairpin corner.
Its most famous feature? The north curve: rebuilt in the 1930s with brutally steep 43° banking, so severe it had no guardrails. Watching cars fly around it was both thrilling and terrifying. It wasn’t just a race venue; it was where Mercedes, Auto Union, and BMW tested the limits of technology, with streamlined silver bullets pushing past 380 km/h (236 mph).
Formula 1’s One-Time Visit
In 1959, the German Grand Prix came to AVUS. For one shining moment, Formula 1’s finest battled on this high-speed strip. But the race turned into a grim reminder of the risks:
Jean Behra, a top driver, tragically died in a support race after crashing at the north curve.
The event underscored just how outdated and dangerous AVUS was for modern racing, even in an era when motorsport was already perilous.
As a result, F1 never returned.
The Slow Decline
After the 1950s, AVUS continued hosting touring car and motorcycle events, but by the late 1960s, its reputation had faded. Safety concerns, rising speeds, and urban development meant racing here no longer made sense.
The north banking, once the crown jewel, fell into disuse and sat crumbling beside the highway. For years, it stood as a haunting concrete relic — weathered, cracked, and overgrown.
Swallowed by the Autobahn
By the late 1990s, Berlin authorities demolished the iconic banking. Today, the AVUS straights are simply part of the A115 autobahn, and tens of thousands of drivers speed along it daily, unaware they’re tracing the tire marks of legends.
You can still spot subtle traces of AVUS if you know where to look — an old control tower (now a hotel), the remnants of a grandstand, and some commemorative plaques. But the roar of the crowds, the scream of engines, and the daredevil racers are gone, leaving only stories etched into the asphalt beneath the city’s relentless traffic.
Legacy
AVUS isn’t just a forgotten racetrack; it’s a reminder of how motorsport’s wild early years shaped the pursuit of speed and technology. Today, as Berliners zip across the A115, few realize they’re driving across one of the most dangerous and spectacular circuits the racing world ever saw.
