MOUNT PANORAMA emerging into sight from behind a haze of mist rather than one of heat was the first indication that this isn’t your average LIQUI MOLY Bathurst 12 Hour.

When 2020 running of Australia’s International Enduro launched into life just before 6am, the Central West of New South Wales was already basking in 30-degree temperatures and that’s before the sun poked its head up over the Mountains to the East.

This morning it was single-digit cold and while the weekend is looking far more promising from a weather standpoint than it could have, it’s still far from the scorching oven / tropical sauna that Bathurst can be during the usual timeslot.

I rolled into town this week expecting to feel a different vibe about the place, given the weather, the smaller-than-usual grid and the compressed, covid-affected build up that appears to be the nature of things in this day and age.

And yet do you know what it felt like?

It felt like Bathurst 12 Hour week.

Different? Sure. But still the same excited vibe before the last decade’s worth of GT races the Mountain has experienced. It feels good.

The nice lady behind the counter of the sandwich shop on William Street I visited for lunch yesterday agreed.

“We’re just lucky to have it at all after the last few years,” she said, while making me what turned out to be a very tasty grilled Chicken roll (hold the Mayo,thanks).

“Everyone likes the 12 Hour races. It’s different to the Bathurst 1000, quieter, but we don’t mind that. People still come in. It’s a different crowd. Even though the date is different it still feels the same.”

Positive signs from the locals, then.

And it must be said that Bathurst looks stunning in all its late autumnal splendour, with orange in the trees a pleasant change from the dry, yellow grass we usually find during the February heat.

Even the prime opportunity for hate generation – the smaller than hoped-for 20-car field – has failed to attract the spite and gnashing of teeth that those who manage the social media accounts (hello..) expected.

Pragmatism of a small grid has been tempered by optimism that while it is compact, it is bloody strong. Like, there could be 12 or 13 potential winners strong.

“In 2020 it was a case of who had the best three Pro’s and there were always half a dozen combinations that stand out,” one team member mused to me in the paddock yesterday.

“But this year it’s all about the Am drivers. You know the Pro’s will all be within much of a muchness of each other but the race comes down to the Am’s. It’s quite exciting to see how that will play out.”

And it really is. It might not be big, and there will definitely be some nervousness among TV, Race Control and Promoter land for the lead-up sessions and the first six hours of the race because lets be honest, attrition is not what this race needs.

But get a dozen good GT3 cars into hour six or seven? Blockbuster potential assured. And Bathurst being what it is – the most bonkers, insane, stupid brilliant race track on the planet – you know that’s probably what we’re going to get.

I’m prone to hyperbole as much as, if not more than, anyone when it comes to the 12-hour. I’m deeply passionate about the race, both where it’s come from and what it has evolved to. Three quarters of my career in the sport has been intrinsically linked to this event. My business is linked to its success or failure.

It is, on balance, my favourite car race and that’s a big call because god only knows I like a lot of car racing.

But even I’ve had to work hard to keep the public optimism high and the private pessimism low in piecing together this year’s edition.

However, I’ve spent just the one day at the circuit and that’s all gone.

The media centre already had a mix of languages and accents as the world, admittedly in smaller numbers than before but still present regardless, began to arrive.

The media are ringing about events and coverage and how they can access photos and videos to promote the event here and abroad.

TV has rigged the mountain with kilometres of fibre. The big screens are in place.

The campgrounds are filling; firewood and blankets replacing blow-up swimming pools and shadecloth, but still the same hardy group of 4,000-odd (that’s a turn of phrase, not a commentary on the campers) souls that turn out each year, rain hail or shine.

There’s van Gisbergen, Engel, Mostert, Van der Linde, Waters, Winkelhock and more so no worries from a driver ability point of view.

And in the lane, a group of Very Good Racing Car Teams have set up $15m worth of GT3 machinery that on Sunday morning will roll onto the best race track on the planet (neigh, universe) and go to war for 12 hours.

I’ll admit I’m easy to please, but it gets the hair on the back of my neck up as much as any other year has.

And the best thing is it appears that despite the weather, the field, the challenges, the date and everything else that could turn people off, it’s doing the same for others too.

To me, it feels like the Bathurst 12 Hour, one of the most special races on our calendar.

And that feels pretty bloody good to me.