Jim Resnick

It was a day I dreaded at the last minute, but not for any expected reason.

Driving BAC’s single-seat track-day weapon, the Mono, on a course I’d never seen before was child’s play compared to the filter through which I’d have to do it.
I threw my back out 36 hours prior, with the long muscles in my back clenching up stiff and unyielding like mandolin strings. Merely walking upright required an unsightly posture for which I was both embarrassed and pissed off.

There wasn’t enough ibuprofen in the world.
But the Mono didn’t care, and that’s what mattered. Much more race car than road car, the BAC Mono comes from that specialized region of the automotive fringe that seeks the closest thing to an actual thoroughbred professional race car, but for mere enthusiasts who missed the professional racing driver boat and have normal careers as bankers, lawyers, software engineers, or journalists.

The demographic for track-day specials like the Mono is nonsensical until you realize that the entire family of car diseases—and the track-day strain of it in particular—cares not for demographics.

Cater to the passionate and the passionate will come.
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