Indy

The lead of the horror-tinged heart-tugger “Good Boy” is a copper-colored retriever named Indy who pads around an eerie house deep in the New Jersey woods investigating its mysterious creaks, shadows and smells. Like the Method-style actors of “The Blair Witch Project,” he goes by his real name onscreen. An ordinary dog without a whiff of Hollywood hokum, Indy doesn’t do implausible stunts like Lassie or Rin Tin Tin or comprehend anything that his owner, Todd (Shane Jensen), says besides simple phrases: sit, stay and, gratefully, the title itself. But we’re invested in the mindset of this mundane hero. His nose twitches are as dramatic as an ingenue’s gasp.

First-time feature director Ben Leonberg raised Indy as a pet first, movie star second. Along with his wife, Kari Fischer, who produced the film, Leonberg shot “Good Boy” in his weekend house, staging scenarios for Indy to explore until he had enough material for a (barely) full-length spook show. Even at 72 minutes, “Good Boy” is belabored in the middle stretch. It would make a fabulous one-hour TV special.

Using his personal footage, Leonberg (who also edited the film and did its gorgeous, inky-wet cinematography) opens with a montage of Indy growing up from a tiny puppy to a loyal best friend. We love the dog more in five minutes than we do some slasher final girls who’ve survived several sequels. Indy is the most empathetic scream queen of the year so far — and I mean that literally as his breed, a Nova Scotia Duck Tolling retriever, is known for its high-pitched wail. American Kennel Club lists the Toller as the U.S.’s 87th most popular dog. I expect this movie will lead to an uptick. (Steve Martin already has one.)

What’s wrong in Indy’s new home? A pair of tragedies wind together like vines, although from the dog’s point of view, the distinction between them isn’t always obvious. This battered two-story home with ominous scratches on the basement door has been in Todd’s family for six generations, as the cemetery out back proves. Bequeathed to the youngish urban hipster by his grandfather (indie cult icon Larry Fessenden), a misanthrope who willed his taxidermy collection to a vegan, it’s a good place to disappear.

Todd, who’s in bad physical and emotional shape, has isolated himself in this scraggly, foggy forest to get some privacy from his sister, Vera (Arielle Friedman). There’s also a past death that the dog is able to perceive. A sniff of a rotting old chair frightens Indy so much, he wets the rug.

“Scaredy pants,” Todd teases Indy. The dog can’t explain what only he knows.

Several unnerving things are happening at once, including the presence of a silhouetted stalker, old bones that give the dog nightmares and Todd’s unpredictable mood swings. There’s also a ghost in the movie, I think — at least, there’s a heavy hinge that shouldn’t be able to open without a spectral nudge. Indy stands about two feet tall, so the camera often stays at that height too, gliding close to the floor where the view from under the bed looks as big as an airplane hangar.

A realistic dog’s-eye view of a creepy cabin is a good hook, although people hoping to see an otherwise satisfying genre thriller will feel a bit underwhelmed that Leonberg and his co-screenwriter Alex Cannon are conflicted about pushing the scary elements of the film too far into the supernatural. With a complicated backstory off the table (Indy looks restless whenever adults are having a conversation), the movie taps into our burgeoning belief that animals do have a special sixth sense, like how hospice workers know to pay special attention to whoever gets night visits from the resident pet.

Still, “Good Boy” doesn’t stray too far from the film’s core strength: a normal dog doing normal dog things. In a twitch, a head tilt or a whine, Indy communicates his emotions: curious, lonely, contented, confused, fretful, desperate or petrified. There’s no CG in the dog’s performance, no corny reaction shots and no use of animal doubles either. Todd’s own legs, however, are often doubled by Leonberg, an onscreen switcheroo that’s possible because the lens doesn’t tend to look up.

I liked the plot better on a second watch when I knew not to expect Jamie Lee Curtis on all fours. The ending is great and the build up to it, though draggy, gives you space to think about the interdependence between our species. Dogs are wired to be our protectors and yet, through generations of nurturing, they’ve come to trust that we’ll also protect them. The inarticulate betrayal in the film is that Todd isn’t making good decisions for anyone. His bond with Indy is pure and strong, yet one-sided in that Todd is too distracted to ease the dog’s fears. Indy is bereft to be left alone for long stretches of time in a strange house. But he can’t do a thing about that, nor the sputtering electricity, the fox traps in the brush and the neighbor (Stuart Rudin) who skulks around in hunting camouflage.

In Todd’s facelessness, he’s a stand-in for whatever you want: absentee parents, a struggling partner or child or friend. There’s a scene in which he comes home in obvious need of a cuddle, only to push his dog away. Maybe you’ve been both people in that shot: the person overwhelmed by their own pain and the loved one who has no idea how to soothe them. It’s terrifying to love someone this much, to give them the full force of your devotion only to get locked outside.

Consciously or not, Leonberg has made a primal film about helplessness. Watching it, I was knocked sideways by a sense memory of how it felt to be a child. Like Indy, kids get dragged around to places they don’t want to go to for reasons that aren’t explained, and when they whine, they’re commanded to pipe down. Even as we get older — when our own point of view can stand taller than two feet — the things that truly scare us are the ones that make us feel small and confused.

INDIANAPOLIS — Alex Palou took the ceremonial swig of milk in victory lane at the Indianapolis 500. His wife had a sip, she in turn gave a sip to their baby, and team owner Chip Ganassi ended up with the bottle and took a drink, as well.

“Whole milk,” he said before switching to Spanish. “Esta muy, muy buena.”

Then, the first Spaniard to win “The Greatest Spectacle in Racing” took a victory lap with them around Indianapolis Motor Speedway in the back of a pickup truck. At one point, Palou climbed onto its roof and raised his arms in triumph, the winning wreath draped around his neck. He briefly lost his balance and Ganassi instinctively reached out to grab his star driver.

No need.

Palou rarely makes a wrong move.

“All my family around, it’s amazing, honestly,” he said, smiling. “All the team around, they make me look really good on the track.”

Palou came to the speedway as the two-time defending IndyCar champion — he has three titles in four years — and had opened this year with victories in four of the first five races. It’s the kind of start not seen since 1964, when A.J. Foyt won the first seven races of the season, including the Indy 500.

But until Sunday he had never won at an oval track like Indy.

“I’m glad that today was our day,” he told The Los Angeles Times. “I think I had tools to to to win at other oval races, but today was the first one that we were able to put everything together and and get it.

“This has been the biggest win. By very, very far.”

Without an Indy 500 win, he said, his career would be incomplete.

“Like he said last week, if he was to go through his whole career and not win here at Indianapolis, it wouldn’t be a complete career,” Ganassi said. “I don’t want to say his career is complete now — he’s got a lot in him yet. Look at the last five, six races we’ve had. It’s just incredible. He’s on a roll.”

Palou was in fuel-saving mode over the closing laps, following former Chip Ganassi Racing teammate Marcus Ericsson. Palou got tired of staying put with 16 laps remaining and charged ahead — a move Ericsson said “will keep me up at night. What I did and what I didn’t do.” Palou was never challenged from there, taking the checkered flag as a crash brought out a caution.

“You never know you have it until you cross the start-finish line,” he said. “I knew I had an amazing car. I knew that I was going to have a chance at the end. But I didn’t know that we were going to have a chance to win until we crossed that start-finish line.”

He stopped the car just beyond the Yard of Bricks, climbing out of it and nearly losing his balance as he raised his arms in triumph. Palou jumped down and took off in a run down the front stretch, pulling off his gloves and tossing them behind him, and ultimately was engulfed by his father, Ramon, and his team in a jubilant celebration.

Scott Dixon and Dario Franchitti both hugged him, a pair of former Ganassi Indy 500 winners welcoming him into their exclusive club.

“I cannot believe it. What an amazing day. What an amazing race,” Palou said. “I cannot believe it. It was tough. Tough conditions out there, especially if you were like, third or fourth in the pack. Even leading, the fuel consumption was super high, so they didn’t want me to lead. I wanted to lead, honestly, so yeah, made it happen.”

Marco Andretti loses control of his car on the start of the Indianapolis 500.

(Michael Conroy / Associated Press)

Meanwhile, Ericsson climbed from his car in pit lane and pressed his hands to his face, the disappointment of coming oh-so-close to a second Indianapolis 500 victory etched across his face. David Maluks was third for A.J. Foyt Racing.

“It’s pretty painful,” Ericsson said of his second career Indy 500 runner-up finish. “I need to look at it again. You replay it in your head a million times after the finish, wondering what I could have done differently. Second means nothing in this race.”

Josef Newgarden’s bid to win three consecutive Indy 500s ended with a fuel pump issue. He was trying to become the first driver to come from the back row to win because he and Team Penske teammate Will Power were dropped to the back of the field for failing inspection before the final rounds of qualifying.

Power wound up 19th, the highest-finishing Penske driver on a miserable day for the organization owned by Roger Penske. He earlier this week fired his top three IndyCar executives for a second technical infraction in just over a year, and has had to defend the optics of his teams failing inspections when he also owns IndyCar, Indianapolis Motor Speedway and the Indy 500.

Penske has won the Indy 500 a record 20 times.

It was the sixth Indy 500 win for Ganassi, who has been on a dominating wave since hiring Palou before the 2021 season. Palou won the championship in his first year with the team, added two more titles, and now seems on pace for a fourth one.

“I’ll tell you what, that kid’s a good driver. I think he’s off to a good start,” Ganassi said. “We’re gonna have a good season. It might be OK. Yeah, might be okay. Might be looking at a championship.”

Ganassi also vowed that winning the Indy 500 win “is going to make Alex Palou’s career. It is going to make his life.”

Palou started the race tied with Pato O’Ward as the co-favorites, listed at +500 by BetMGM Sportsbook. O’Ward finished fourth — the fifth time in six career starts the Mexican has finished sixth or higher. Kyle Larson won’t complete “the double” after crashing out of the Indianapolis 500 before he headed to North Carolina to compete in the Coca-Cola 600 NASCAR race.

It’s been 12 months since Arrow McLaren driver Pato O’Ward tasted arguably the biggest defeat of his career. He was leading the competition until the final lap in the Indy 500 when he was passed by Team Penske’s Josef Newgarden.

That afternoon, O’Ward wept bitterly after again being denied the ultimate victory at a track where he has performed well. During his three Indy 500 appearances, the Monterrey, Mexico, native has two second-place finishes — in 2022 and 2024 — and $3.16 million in winnings.

O’Ward enters Sunday’s 109th Indianapolis 500 (9:45 a.m. PDT on Fox) as the slight favorite to win the Indy 500.

The other major contender on Sunday is Chip Ganassi Racing’s Alex Palou of Spain. The Sant Antoni de Vilamajor native, the reigning IndyCar Series defending champion, has won four of the season’s five races, although he has never won the Indianapolis 500.

Pato O’Ward, front and center, is comforted by a crew member after finishing second in the Indianapolis 500 on May 26, 2024, in Indianapolis.

(Darron Cummings / Associated Press)

For many, O’Ward also is a sentimental favorite after showing he can rally from setbacks and compete for wins. O’Ward finished last season in fifth place, with three wins and six top-five finishes. He is fourth in the standings with two top-five finishes and one pole.

“It’s the hunger to win, to be able to come back and have another shot. I love what I do, I love my job,” O’Ward told L.A. Times en Español when asked about his resilience heading into Sunday’s race.

This week, the native of Monterrey decided to prepare pozole and quesadillas for his team. When he’s in Indianapolis, he usually tries to avoid the hustle and bustle and concentrate on winning.

“I live, breathe and sleep with racing,” said O’Ward, whose racing career began in karting in 2005.

“This has been a goal that’s been living pretty much in my head for many years,” added O’Ward, who qualified 232.098 mph on the 2.5-mile oval and will enter Sunday’s front row, the first Mexican to do so in the history of the Indy 500.

O’Ward, who drives the No. 5 car, has seven IndyCar Series victories and has progressed far from his early days as an inexperienced kid who shyly gave media interviews.

He has kept a tight circle around him as he has worked to improve.

“For people on the outside, it’s hard for us to welcome them because I like to keep things pretty tight-lipped,” said O’Ward, whose team is made up mostly of family members. “It’s people you trust them with your eyes closed and you always know they’re doing their best for you.”

Today, O’Ward is one of the leading faces of the series, with thousands of fans from around the world wearing T-shirts with his name on them to support him in a stadium that has already sold out its 250,000 seats despite the drama surrounding last year’s winning team.

Team Penske has been in the spotlight after it was punished for using modified attenuators, which resulted in failed technical inspections last Sunday. The team was accused of stuffing and smoothing the seams of the rear attenuator, a part that is standard for all teams and therefore cannot be modified.

Pato O’Ward drives into the second turn during the IndyCar Grand Prix at Indianapolis Motor Speedway in Indianapolis on May 10.

(Michael Conroy / Associated Press)

Upon hearing the news, O’Ward showed his frustration. IndyCar on Monday announced penalties to Team Penske for placing Newgarden and Will Power in the final starting positions for the race, as well as $100,000 fines for each car that failed inspections.

The Team Penske car, which Newgarden won with in 2024, is now in the renovated IMS Museum and features a modified rear attenuator similar to the one seen Sunday at Indianapolis that resulted in penalties. In addition, photos have been released from last year’s race in which the No. 2 Team Penske Chevrolet appears to have those same modifications.

“Looking ahead to the remainder of the week and this weekend’s race, we will do everything we can to make it clear that these are not only the best races on the planet, but races where the best win under completely fair conditions,” Indycar President J. Douglas Boles said in a statement.

After learning of the punishments, Team Penske owner Roger Penske fired three Team Penske executives: President Tim Cindric, Chief Executive Ron Ruzewski and general manager Kyle Moyer.

Roger Penske owns the IndyCar Series through Penske Entertainment Group, in addition to owning Indianapolis Motor Speedway, home of the Indy 500, creating more questions about the perceptions of conflict of interest ahead of Sunday’s race and the rest of the IndyCar Series season.

Palou wants his first Indy 500 win

Palou, known for his calm, consistency and composure on the track, has yet to win the Indy 500. Despite having four wins in the first five races of the season, drawing comparisons to the four straight victories by the legendary A.J. Foyt in 1964, Palou is not satisfied and wants a “life-changing” win.

Palou scored a second-place finish in 2021 in the Indy 500 and earned $2.8 million from that race.

“Obviously, it’s the one race that I know and that we all know is life-changing for a driver. I’ve won four this year and it hasn’t changed my life,” Palou, 28, explained to L.A. Times en Español. “On the other hand, winning this weekend’s 500, the 500 miles, I believe and I know that it changes the life of the drivers who win it.”

Palou, the winner of the 2021, 2023 and 2024 IndyCar championships, qualified at 231.378 mph in his No. 10 Chip Ganassi Racing car to start sixth on the grid Sunday.

Spain’s Alex Palou, center, celebrates after winning the IndyCar Grand Prix auto race at Indianapolis Motor Speedway in Indianapolis on May 10. Pato O’Ward, of Mexico, left, finished second and Will Power, of Australia, finished third.

(Michael Conroy / Associated Press)

The Spaniard said he is going through the best moment of his career, not only in sport, but also in his personal life, as he enjoys spending time with his 18-month old daughter, Lucia, born in 2023.

“It’s harder, it’s a lot more work and it’s impossible to have a good strategy to win that competition because every day it changes,” Palou said about caring for his daughter. “But it has been the best thing I’ve ever done in my life. The feeling when she smiles, when she hugs me or when she tells me something. She’s 18 months old now, but she’s still starting to say ‘Daddy’ and she’s starting to say things and it’s amazing.”

Despite winning the second championship in a row, Palou said his team has continued its intense pace.

“I would say that basically that’s the great work of the team and that after winning the championship no one has relaxed. That’s what’s most impressive that it was the other way around, if not that they put in even more effort than they had in 2024,” Palou said.

Palou has also given a lot of credit to his father, who has been his mechanic since he started in karting.

“We spent many, many hours together and many, many bad moments, very hard and also many good ones, but in the end he has been the person who has taught me … to go fast, to brake harder, to have more speed in mid-corner and also how to get up after a bad moment,” Palou said.

Palou was the first Spaniard to win an IndyCar championship in 2021 and wants to continue to inspire future generations of Spanish drivers by proving that you can not only make it to this circuit, but also succeed.

Prema Racing rookie Robert Shwartzman will make his Indy 500 debut in the pole position. It is the first time a rookie has won the Indy 500 pole since 1953. Takuma Sato, a two-time race winner, will join Shwartzman and O’Ward on the front row.

This article first appeared in Spanish via L.A. Times en Español.

At the top of a hill in a sprawling Santa Clarita industrial park in the shadow of Magic Mountain’s roller coasters, a significant chapter in the history of motorsports was written.

But the story isn’t finished yet.

From the outside, the building is nothing special. Behind its walls, however, Honda Racing Corporation has designed, tested and built the engines that have won 14 of the last 21 IndyCar championships and all five IndyCar races this season. In Sunday’s Indianapolis 500, a race Honda has won 15 times since 2004, four of the top six starters will have Honda engines, including two-time winner Takuma Sato, who qualified second.

It’s a level of dominance unmatched in IndyCar history — in a series Honda probably helped save.

A technician works on an engine at Honda Racing Corporation. All of Honda’s engines for North American racing series are built in Santa Clarita.

(Robert Hanashiro / For the Times)

Amid the open-wheel civil war between Championship Auto Racing Teams and the Indy Racing League, Honda was prepared to walk away. Robert Clarke, who started Honda Performance Development (before it was renamed HRC in 2024) and made it a cutting-edge research and development facility, convinced American Honda president Koichi Amemiya to supply engines to IRL teams in 2003 after Honda left CART in 2002.

“It just was not Honda’s image of what a race car should be. That’s why Honda initially didn’t want to be involved,” Clarke said. “In my discussion with the president it was ‘OK, we developed all these skills and know-how. Are we just going to give that up and just walk away?’ That’s crazy.

”We invested literally billions of dollars. And we’ve seen the success.”

Chevrolet and Toyota eventually did quit, leaving Honda as the only IndyCar engine manufacturer for six seasons. Amemiya then doubled down, funding Honda’s move to its 123,000-square-foot home while expanding its workforce to 250 from an original staff of fewer than 10.

Honda hasn’t looked in the rearview mirror since.

Clarke, 75, left Honda in 2008 though he’s still something of an executive emeritus, one who wears the brand on his sleeve and often refers to the company with the collective pronoun “we.”

Robert Clarke, left, speaks to IndyCar driver Dario Franchitti at Mid-Ohio Race Course in July 2007.

(Jay LaPrete / Associated Press)

He was 10 when his father took him to his first race to watch a friend run in an amateur open-wheel event. When young Robert was invited into the garage and allowed to work on the car “I was hooked,” he said. “My bedroom walls were covered with pictures of Formula One cars and all kinds of racing.”

He took the long road to Honda racing, though, studying architecture and art/industrial design in college, then teaching for five years at Notre Dame. His first job at Honda was in the motorcycle accessory and product planning departments but when the company announced it was going to enter open-wheel racing, Clarke volunteered and he was soon tasked with building the program from the ground up.

That was in 1993. By the time Clarke left Honda 15 years later, the company’s place as a major force in IndyCar racing was secure and Honda’s two-story hilltop headquarters became his legacy.

The focus of work in the building now is mainly on supporting Honda teams in IndyCar and the IMSA WeatherTech SportsCar Championship. As such, it has become a one-stop shop for racing teams, housing comprehensive engine research and development operations; prototype and production parts manufacturing; engine preparation and rebuilding; a material analysis facilities; more than a half-dozen engine dynamometer test cells; a machine shop; electronics lab; parts center; multiple conference rooms; and administrative offices.

A view of the machine shop at the at the Honda Racing Corporation in Santa Clarita.

(Robert Hanashiro / For the Times)

Next year it will provide support for Honda’s effort to supply Formula One engines to Aston Martin.

Mostly the building is a maze of quiet office space where engineers sketch out their designs on computer screens, well-lit assembly bays where mechanics assemble the prototypes, and the noisy high-tech dyno rooms where those prototypes are tested. Every stage of a racing engine, from conception and construction to being shipped to the track, is managed at the facility.

“We develop the technology quickly,” said David Salters, the British-born engineer who heads HRC. “We try them. Sometimes they work, sometimes they don’t work and you try again. The point of having a racing facility inside your company is you can be agile. You can try stuff. You can train the people.

“The people are the most important thing of all this.”

The whole process is more NASA than NASCAR in that there’s not a speck of grease or oil on the bright, white vinyl flooring and everybody’s hands are clean.

David Salters, president of Honda Racing Corporation.

(Michael L. Levitt / LAT Images via American Honda Motor Co.)

“This is a world-class facility. It needs to be clinical and professional in the processes and systems we have here,” said Salters, who was head of engine development for the Ferrari F1 team and held a similar position at Mercedes-Benz before joining Honda a decade ago.

“It’s like an operating theater. We’re basically dealing with engines or electrical systems, which are like jewelry. They cannot tolerate dirt or anything like that. Everything has to be spotless and clean and well-organized. This is aerospace.”

And when the engines don’t work, they’re brought back to HRC and the engineering process is repeated in reverse in search of flaws. As for why they’re doing all that in a sleepy bedroom community better known for its paved bike paths and rustic hiking trails than for its motorsports history, that’s easy: Location, location, location.

Clarke originally expected to recruit engineers from Indianapolis and Charlotte, N.C., the heartland of American racing, while Honda insisted on keeping its operations near its corporate offices in Torrance. Clarke feared dropping people from the Midwest and South into L.A.’s traffic-clogged sprawl would be such a culture shock, he’d lose his best engineers.

So he chose Santa Clarita, which was isolated enough to not feel like L.A., but close enough to Torrance to be accessible. And the building came with an “Only in L.A.” feature: It shares a driveway with the studio where the popular TV series “NCIS” is filmed.

“Every so often a helicopter will land in the car park and we’re all told we can’t go outside in case we get swept away,” Salters said with a chuckle. “There was some ‘Star Trek’ thing where they decided our foyer could be useful. So for a few weeks we had a movie set in our foyer; we rented it out.

“You’ve got to look at business opportunities.”

Adi Susilo, chief engineer of powertrain at Honda Racing Corporation, looks over large monitors before the start of the 12 Hours of Sebring in March.

(Robert Hanashiro / For the Times)

It’s early on a chilly Saturday in March and HRC’s headquarters is mostly empty save for one corner on the building’s second floor where nearly a dozen people, some wearing headphones, have gathered behind computer screens facing six giant TV monitors.

A continent away, in central Florida, more than 50 cars are lined up for the 12 hours of Sebring. Each driver with a Honda engine has an engineer monitoring their car’s performance.

Before the pandemic, engineers would travel and work with race teams on site. But for the last four years the engineers have been working mostly at HRC, monitoring in-car telemetry that provides real-time information about everything from engine status and tire pressure to suspension behavior.

“Data is king,” said Adi Susilo, one of the HRC engineers. “Humans make mistakes. Data rarely does.”

F1 teams have monitored telemetry remotely for years, but it didn’t become common in IndyCar racing until 2023. Now it’s a vital part of every major racing series, including NASCAR.

Powertrain chief engineer Adi Susilo looks at a full-size mock up of an IMSA prototype at Honda Racing Corporation.

(Robert Hanashiro / For the Times)

Engineers work out of what looks like a college classroom, only quieter. When the sound of a disembodied voice does cackle out of a headphone, it sounds like NASA Mission Control, the tone flat and unemotional, the conversation short and to the point.

“It’s better for solving problems,” said Susilo about working away from the track. “If there’s a problem, you just walk downstairs and talk to the guy who built the engine.”

That won’t be the case Sunday. For the Indy 500, Susilo said it’s all hands on deck, so most of Honda’s race-day engineers are in Indianapolis where the telemetry will be broadcast to their work stations in trailers at the track.

“A few of the IndyCar races are run that way,” he said, “but the 500 is almost always run that way just because everyone’s out here for the event. We’re also testing a new, hopefully more robust, telemetry streaming as it’s much harder to make sure we get 15 car’s worth of data.”

At first, the idea of having engineers looming electronically over the timing stand was a hard sell. Trusting someone with clean fingernails watching the race on monitors thousands of miles away wasn’t easy for some crew chiefs.

“What happens for people like me is that you have to erase the old-school way of thinking,” said Mike Hull, a former mechanic and driver who is now the managing director for Chip Ganassi Racing and chief strategist for driver Scott Dixon, a six-time IndyCar champion. “You’re electronically shoulder to shoulder with them.

“If you don’t listen to what somebody has to say, it stifles free thinking. Free thinking sends you down a path that you may not have originally been on, but makes you stronger at what you’re doing.”

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1. Race engines being assembled at Honda Racing Corporation. 2. A technician in the HRC machine shop works on an engine. 3. Engineers monitor data during the 12 Hours of Sebring in March. 4. A engineer monitors telemetry remotely from HRC headquarters. (Robert Hanashiro / For the Times)

Dixon, the 2008 Indy 500 champion who will start Sunday’s race in the second row, agrees. Which is he why he’s made several trips to HRC to personally thank the engineers who design his engines and those who help direct his races.

“You always feel like there’s a big group behind you,” he said. “You just don’t get to see all them in one place but you know the machine is there, working pretty hard.”

One drawback, Dixon said, is you have to be careful what you say on the radio during races because you never know who’s listening.

“Twenty people at home, just on the team side, will be listening just on that one car,” he said. “So the communication is very wide open. You definitely have to watch your Ps and Qs.”

Two years later race teams have grown so comfortable with people looking over their shoulders, the engineers have become as much a part of the team as the cars. So when a nearby wildfire forced the evacuation of the building, Honda rented rooms at a nearby hotel, set up their TVs, computer monitors and a coffee machine in a conference room and worked from there.

“We’re pretty blind without it. The race teams are pretty competitive,” Susilo said. “They feel that instinct still does work. But it’s more data-driven.”

Honda powertain engineer Jake Marthaler monitors data during the 12 Hours of Sebring in March.

(Robert Hanashiro / For the Times)

Given the investment, the pressure can be intense.

“Every two weeks we want to have the latest development. We want to have made progress,” Salters said. “Every two weeks you have a deadline and the deadline does not move. It’s not like they’re going to say ‘OK, we’ll just delay the race a week.’ The flag drops, you’ve got to be ready.

“It’s sort of an engineering sport isn’t it? It’s like a true sport; the best team will win.”

If the IndyCar-Honda marriage has mostly been good for both sides, it has recently hit a rocky patch.

Honda’s supply contract with IndyCar ends next year and the company hasn’t hid its distaste over the cheating scandals that have recently tarnished the series. Last week Team Penske drivers Josef Newgarden, the two-time defending Indy 500 champion, and Will Power were forced to the back of the field for the start of Sunday’s race after illegally modified parts were found on their cars. Team Penske, which uses Chevrolet engines, was also caught cheating at the beginning of the 2024 season.

On Wednesday, the team fired three of its top racing executives. IndyCar, which is owned by Roger Penske (also the owner of Team Penske) said it is exploring the creation of an independent governing body absent of Penske employees.

Scott Dixon drives into the first turn during practice for the Indianapolis 500 on Friday.

(Michael Conroy / Associated Press)

That may not be enough to restore trust in the series. Honda, which supplies engines to 13 full-season IndyCar entries and three Indy 500-only cars, has declined to comment on the rules violations, but confirmed its continued participation in the series beyond 2026 may depend on Penske’s ability to separate himself from policing the series he owns and also competes in.

Honda said in a written statement Thursday that it has many concerns, among them “the relatively high overall cost to participate as an engine supplier” and “the potential (perceived or real) conflict of interest which may exist” with Penske’s ownership of the racing series, three of the cars competing in the series and his “significant stake” in Ilmor Engineering, which designs and manufactures engines for Chevrolet, Honda’s biggest competitor.

“Honda continues to have ongoing negotiations with IndyCar’s management and technical teams regarding our future as an engine supplier for the series,” said Chuck Chayefsky, manager of Honda & Acura Motorsports.

Whatever road Honda takes with IndyCar, it’s unlikely to change most of the day-to-day work at HRC, which is heavily involved with IMSA and will soon be working on F1 power-unit development.

So while the cars may change, the racing will never stop.

The car Ryan Hunter-Reay drove to victory for Andretti Autosport in the 2014 Indianapolis 500 sits on display at Honda Racing Corporation in Santa Clarita.

(Robert Hanashiro / For the Times)

“Thirty years ago our sole purpose in life was to look after racing in North America for Honda and Acura,” Salters said before last week’s events in Indianapolis. “Last year we changed that. We’re now part of a global racing organization. That’s another opportunity for associates here.”

“The automotive world, it’s pivoting,” he continued. “We are trying some new stuff. We’ll see how it goes.”

One chapter has been written. But the story isn’t finished.