Turn two at Wilmot Hills Road Racing Course is a sharp uphill right with an apex precisely at the crest. I’m driving a Porsche 718 Boxster Style Edition, wondering how drivers would handle this challenging corner at speed. I’m not worried about careening off the track, however. At a brisk 20 mph, my laps are purely ceremonial.
Wilmot Hills Road Racing Course shut down 57 years ago.
It’s one of three ghost race tracks I visited as part of our ongoing series on abandoned tracks, but my mission here goes far beyond artsy photos of crumbling pavement. Of the many emails I received since the first abandoned tracks feature went live in January, a few pointed me to old tracks between Chicago and Milwaukee. One kind reader shared with me the story of his father, who raced a Porsche 356 and an RS 550 Spyder in the very same region.
How amazing would it be to visit these places—Wilmot Hills, Lynndale Farms, and Meadowdale Raceway—in a modern Porsche? Could I at least get a hint of what it was like 60 years ago, when the racing was grassroots and the tracks were wild? I had to find out.
Porsche loaned me a 718 Boxster Style Edition for the trip, a modern successor to the 356 and 550. With the state of these tracks, I couldn’t enjoy the old straights and curves at speed. But in the Boxster, I could at least feel the same sun that warmed those drivers’ faces back in the 1960s, the peak period for these tracks.
Visiting these extraordinary locations was a surreal, emotive experience.
Lynndale Farms Road Racing Course: 1964-1968
There’s no other way to say it... Lynndale Farms is now a subdivision. Approximately 25 miles west of Milwaukee, this was the last stop on my day-long ghost track tour, but the most surprising. The outline of the original 2.5-mile road course is largely preserved through the subdivision’s roads, including the 2,000-foot front straight and the esses leading up to it.
Yes, esses in a subdivision.
Chuck Reupert didn’t drive a Porsche on this course, but he was among those who raced at Lynndale during its four short years of operation. I chatted with his granddaughter Michelle, who still lives in the area and races along with her husband Adam, and father Mike. Chuck campaigned an H Modified Dart and had a chance to buy a plot of land at Lynndale when its fate was sealed, but passed on the opportunity. A combination of bad weather, noise complaints, and its proximity to Road America were factors in Lynndale’s brief existence. But thanks to Michelle and her family, we get a sense of what the track was like through some vintage photos.
Six decades later, this place still feels like a racetrack as you drive past the houses. Turn one is a modest right with a surprisingly steep drop that must have been thrilling and terrifying. It flows into turn two, a fast right that leads to a hairpin and eventually, the back straight. Or rather, it would’ve led you there if it still existed. The hairpin is now a cul-de-sac, so I’m forced to casually turn left onto Lynndale Lane. That takes me to the back stretch, which also leads to a dead-end.
I’m surprised by how the neighborhood roads capture the essence of the track, but also by the people who live there. For 45 minutes I paraded around the quiet subdivision in a visually striking Porsche, accompanied by ace photographer Jeremy Cliff who wasn’t shy about guiding me to the best places for pics. Surely someone would wonder what the hell was going on, but we were met only with smiles and friendly waves. Clearly, photobombers in neat cars are familiar to Lynndale residents.
There's a small strip of original track on the eastern side of the subdivision. It’s not accessible to vehicles, but it is preserved on public land. Coincidentally, the homeowner living next to it arrived while we were snapping photos. He was all too eager to talk cars and said the old pavement was protected as part of a conservancy. As long as the subdivision exists, that small section of Lynndale Farms Road Racing Course lives on.
Meadowdale International Raceway: 1958-1969
A most amazing race track once existed barely 40 miles northwest of Chicago. The 3.27-mile course had a main straight nearly a mile long, connected to the back straight by the Monza Wall—a steeply banked 180-degree corner that, sadly, no longer exists. But portions of the original tarmac still do. The entire layout is preserved as a hiking and biking trail in the Raceway Hills Forest Preserve. And it’s absolutely beautiful.
The Preserve strikes a wonderful balance between honoring the legacy of the track while creating a peaceful sanctuary in the decidedly hectic suburbs of Chicago. During my visit, I encountered no shortage of people biking and walking the old route, enjoying a mix of forested and open areas.
The back straight is particularly wide—the track’s straights ran side-by-side here before the Monza Wall. At three-quarters of a mile, the front straight seems to just disappear into the woods. A flat expanse of tarmac connects the straights to where the Monza Wall once stood.
Linda Daro is the president of the Midwest Racing Preservation Association (MIRPA), which she founded in 2008. The group is dedicated to keeping the memory of Meadowdale alive. Aside from saving portions of the track and the original silo—the only remaining structure from the old days—the non-profit organization hosts automotive-themed events throughout the summer.
“I love racing, and there are so many memories, so much history with the people who raced at Meadowdale, we didn’t want to lose that,” Linda explained. “We’ve had great support from the community; There’s so much passion for this place, even with those that aren’t race fans. Our annual car show usually brings about 300 to 400 cars, all parked on the straightaway, and people fill the park to take it all in.”
Cars usually aren’t allowed on the trail, but Daro was all too happy to open the gate by the silo for me and the Boxster. Meadowdale was a tough track. It had a rough track surface even when new, with few runoff areas. When the last checkered flag dropped in 1968, this place could've easily become a shopping mall. Instead, its shell and spirit are under the protection of the Dundee Township Park District, the Forest Preserve District of Kane County, and the Midwest Racing Preservation Association. I wish I could’ve driven portions of the old surface, but that’s okay. There are worse fates for old racetracks.
Wilmot Hills Road Racing Course: 1953-1967
It was hot and humid as I rumbled into Wilmot, but I still lowered the Boxster’s roof. This track is different from the others, notably because the old track is still mostly there. More than anything from this journey, I wanted a taste of what racers experienced back in the day. Lynndale and Meadowdale still had their outlines, but only Wilmot has an accessible surface for the Porsche to bite.
And I got that taste right away. I'd seen satellite images and old photos of the course, but I was still taken by surprise when I steered the Porsche down the driveway for Wilmot Mountain Ski Resort, through an S turn and onto a broken straight.
I suddenly realized this was the back half of the track.
In fact, it started a couple hundred feet prior—I’d idled by without realizing it. And then came the cruel irony as I passed a crooked 15 mph speed limit sign. 60 years ago, racers like Joseph B Swanson Jr were going through here at five times that speed.
“My dad started out racing in 1961. His first car was a new Porsche 356 Super 90 Roadster,” said Joseph Swanson’s son, Joe. Joseph received the car from his uncle as a gift, but didn’t cruise town with it. Instead, he yanked off the bumpers and hit the track.
“[T]hat first year, he was the class champion in the Chicagoland SCCA”, Joe said. “He did very well, then he bought an RS 550 Spyder from a dealership in Chicago and had a successful season racing that. He wanted to move up a class, so he sold the 550 and got an Elva Mk VI. Then in 1963 he got married, and the family basically said they didn’t want him racing anymore, it was too dangerous. So that’s where he stopped.”
Standing at the entrance to turn one, I understand the Swanson family’s concerns. It’s a fast right coming off the main straight, and there’s a hell of a big hill leading to turn two. You don't see the apex until you're at the top, cresting just in time for the corner. Between the poor visibility and the elevation change, it's the kind of corner you want to master for the sheer satisfaction of getting it right.
Sadly, I’ll never have that experience. Buildings sit on the southern end of the track now. The track surface is a collection of potholes and cracks that finger out in every direction. Wilmot’s racing days are done, but the resort’s General Manager Chuck Randles isn’t opposed to a car show. How cool would it be to have Swanson Jr's old Porsche 550 back under the sun at Wilmot? He passed away when his son was eight years old, but the younger Swanson researched his dad's racing legacy and found the 550 still exists.
As for the new Porsche I was driving, the Boxster Style Edition was a perfect companion on this 1,500-mile road trip. 300 horsepower is far more than the 356s and 550s had in their period, but the 718 isn’t far removed from Porsche’s mid-century ethos. The Boxster is smaller and lighter than the 911, and the drop-top’s four-cylinder mill is a direct callback to the flat-fours used in those classics. That’s especially true for the 550, which also utilized a mid-engine layout like the 718.
Cresting turn two at Wilmot, I rolled on the gas with the roof down and the flat-four soundtrack behind me and tasted that faded glory. Lapping the short one-mile layout must have been one hell of a ride. And the experience became even more bittersweet with news that Porsche is ending the Boxster and Cayman as we know them, paving the way for a new generation of electric roadsters.
Back at the hotel that evening, I was sunburnt, exhausted, and already contemplating where to go next. Instead of one day for three tracks, this trip could easily be a full day for each. I yearned to walk the loop at Meadowdale, talk with residents at Lynndale, and hammer that crest at Wilmot. And it would all flash by like Joseph’s 550 or Chuck’s Dart crossing the finish line. At least the future for these places is secure, leaving me room to return someday. Other old tracks aren’t as fortunate.
They deserve one more moment in the light, before they’re gone for good.
