Circuit Zolder Comes to Project Motor Racing

July 04, 2025

The Flemish Forest

Circuit Zolder, barely 60 minutes east of Brussels and hidden among the poplars and greenery of Limburg province, is the antithesis of Belgium’s other motorsport icon, Spa-Francorchamps, which has always imposed its shadow over Zolder’s fortunes.

Where Spa sprawls across the Ardennes in all its regal splendour, Zolder folds 4.011 km (2.492 mi) of asphalt into a tight, claustrophobic amphitheatre on land that was a hunting reserve until the traditional post-war appetite for motorsport ended up with the crazy idea of building a track that would lure the best drivers in the world.

To make that work, officials hired none other than Dutch engineer John Hugenholtz (famed designer of Suzuka and Zandvoort) to thread a ribbon of track through the trees and valley, and the track opened its doors in June 1963.

From then until the early-’70s, Zolder hosted mostly regional and local series … right up until the mid-’70s when fate came calling because—of course—big brother Spa was in trouble.

The Legends Comes Calling (and Leave a Forever Scar)

When Spa’s original 14-km public road course was deemed too dangerous, the Belgian Grand Prix needed to find a safer, permanent venue. And so, while Spa was defanged and declawed, international motorsport found a new venue at Zolder.

The circuit’s mix of medium-speed bends and flat-out kinks was seen as a safer alternative to Spa, and its layout produced some quirky winners through the years—not least Gunnar Nilsson’s only F1 win in 1977 under monsoon rain.

Zolder’s GP stint though is forever marked by the tragedy of 8 May 1982, when Ferrari’s golden boy, Gilles Villeneuve, tangled wheels with Jochen Mass during qualifying. Gilles, who was on his way to the championship that year, has a bronze bust that watches over the chicane that bears his name to this very day—an eternal reminder of the sad events of that day in May 1982.

A couple of years later, with the pitlane becoming an issue and the circus becoming ever more professional, the GP circus returned to the rebuilt Spa, leaving Zolder the difficult task of reinventing itself.

The 24 Hours of Zolder: de Remschijven!

Zolder’s reply was to nurture its own unique 24-hour cult. First run in 1983, the race mixes GT3s, viral factory entries, and clubman BMW Cup cars in one crazy, loose-limbed grid guaranteed to offer some close rivalries. Locals camp trackside grilling braadworst long into the night, and the winner’s trophy—a polished cylinder of brake discs (aka “de Remschijven”)—carries some, uh, weight for those able to conquer an enduro race that has provided some indelible moments through the years. (Not least that time in 1997 when a Volvo 850 estate {yes, wagon} tried to qualify for the event with tailgate as makeshift wing!)

Chicanes, Kerbs and Tweaks

The nature of the track is about rhythm, braking finesse, and minimal margins. The important turns are:

Terlamenbocht: A flat-out right-left flick; exit kerb decides whether you rocket onto the back straight or bury the car in gravel.

Eerste Eenvoudige Linkse: “First simple left” in name only; you brake lightly while the car’s still dancing from the preceding kink. Nothing simple here. Not even the ride into the scenery if you mess it up.

Villeneuve Chicane: Post-’82 right-left added for safety; ride the sausage kerb hard to gain tenths or hesitate and become a sitting duck for the brave and committed chasing you.

Bolderbergbocht: Zolder’s bravest corner, a full-commit right-hand sweep under the footbridge (prototypes may require a sanity lift). Stand on the bridge and it’ll take you no time at all to figure out which drivers are there to win, and which are there collecting a paycheck.

Sacramentsheuvel: Innocent in the dry, treacherous in the wet when puddles gather on the camber.

Legacy in Miniature

Zolder will never steal big bros Spa’s thunder—but you know, it’s too cool to even try. It’s motorsport in concentrated form: accessible, intimate, gritty, and unapologetically old-school. Sixty years on, the fences may be higher and the TecPro thicker, but Zolder’s soul remains: a compact theatre of speed where fans still hear V8s echo through the birches and smell brake dust mingling with Belgian frites.

Zolder is a forever reminder why smaller stages can still produce the loudest dramas.

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