Over the past month, the motorsport world has been shaken by a series of devastating tragedies. Multiple racing drivers lost their lives in separate incidents at Donington Park and the Jim Clark Rally. Two motorbike racers were killed in an 11-bike crash at Oulton Park. And perhaps most heartbreakingly, a young junior driver was taken far too soon in a crash in County Cork.
These aren’t easy stories to read. They’re not easy to write about either. But they matter. Because no matter how far safety has come, motorsport in 2025 still carries risk. And when the worst happens, it’s a sobering reminder of the razor-thin line we dance along every time we strap into a seat and tighten the belts.
I had the chance to race at Donington Park last year in EnduroKa. It was an unforgettable experience, full of adrenaline, camaraderie, and proper grassroots spirit. Knowing that the same track has been the site of recent loss hits hard. My thoughts are with the families of those we’ve lost, as well as the marshals, officials, and everyone who was there on those days. They carry a heavy burden too, and deserve all our respect and support.
I’ve not yet raced in many places, but even from the sim rig here on Islay, even from the dreams and spreadsheets and planning stages of it all, the danger is never completely out of mind. Motorsport isn’t just thrilling because it’s fast or noisy or competitive. It’s thrilling because there’s something real at stake.
We all know the risks. No one who gets into racing is naïve to what can happen. The danger is part of the deal. And yet, for most of us, that doesn’t make us back away. It pulls us in deeper. Not out of recklessness, but out of love. Out of a desire to test ourselves, to feel alive in the truest sense. It’s a strange thing to explain to those outside the sport. How can we accept that something we love might kill us? But for me, it’s simple: I’d rather go out doing something I love than spend my life wondering what if.
That’s not to say we throw caution to the wind. Quite the opposite. We invest in safety, in training, in preparation. We learn the flags, we respect the marshals, we know when to push and when to back off. But we also know that risk will always be there. It’s baked into the DNA of this thing we call racing.
My mum likes to say “Mummy says no” whenever I bring up racing. And honestly, I get it. It’s a dangerous game. But it’s one I’m still drawn to—maybe even more so because of that risk. Because that’s where the magic lives: in doing the thing you love, even when it scares you.
So today, I just want to say this: to those we’ve lost, rest in peace. You reminded us why we love this sport, and why we fight to make it safer every year. And to those of us still chasing the dream—whether on a remote island or the biggest stages in the world—let’s never forget the privilege it is to even get the chance to try.
Motorsport is dangerous. It always has been. But it’s also beautiful. And I, for one, am not afraid of that balance.
