Thirteen Karts: Kartmania 2026

Level of Challenge

★★★★★

Extremely challenging

One Slow Lap

The plan was one slow lap. My two friends would go out in front, I would follow in a single kart at whatever pace I could manage, and by the end of that lap I hoped to know the circuit well enough to go round on my own.

I had studied the track map before we left. Fourteen turns, a long straight, and a banked corner that Kartmania says is the only one of its kind in South Australia. I knew where the circuit went. I had just never driven it.

We were in Adelaide for a friend’s fortieth birthday, and a session at Kartmania in Gepps Cross was something he had been talking about wanting to do. I was reticent. What changed my mind was reading that the track had two seater karts, which meant there was a way onto the circuit whatever happened. So I said I would go along and see.

What I Used to Do

Before I lost my sight in 2018, I raced. I took a Birkin, the South African built replica of the Lotus Seven, and a Toyota 86 to track days, and raced the Toyota in the Michelin Cup, an amateur series in South Africa. Alongside that came plenty of informal karting with friends, which I always loved.

Apart from racing games on the Xbox, I have not driven since. Driving is something I have genuinely missed, and I wanted to find out whether a kart might give a little of it back.

The Queue

When we arrived the place was almost empty. I explained to the person at the desk what I was hoping for, and they said they would do their best to put the three of us into a session on our own. They were straight with me that it might not be possible.

I was incredibly nervous, and more excited than I had expected to be.

Then two large parties arrived. The queue to sign in filled the office, and by the time our turn came there would be thirteen karts in our race. When we left later, people were still queuing to sign up for the sessions after ours.

Drawing the Line

I thought it through as clearly as I could. Three karts on a circuit I had learned from a map was a challenge I had prepared for. Thirteen was something else. I would have been finding my way round the track while trying to keep clear of twelve other karts I could not reliably see, driven by people who had no idea I was out there with sight loss.

The risk was no longer only mine. Any mistake I made would land on somebody else.

So I decided not to drive.

There is an idea at the heart of how I think about Go Anyway, sometimes called the dignity of risk. Disabled people have the same right as anyone to take ordinary risks, and protecting someone from every difficulty, however kindly meant, is its own kind of harm. But the right to take a risk is also the right to weigh it. Nobody made this decision for me. The staff did not turn me away and my friends did not talk me out of it. I looked at what the challenge had become and judged it was not mine to take on that day.

Not a Passenger

My friends offered straight away to take me round in a two seater. It was a kind offer, and I said no.

Changing how you take part is often the smart way to keep taking part, and I have done it many times. This time the change would have removed the one thing I had come for. A dual kart would have put me on the track as a passenger, and I did not want to be a passenger. I wanted to drive. A two seater is also slower, and one of them would have given up his race to carry me.

That turned out to matter. My friend, the one celebrating his birthday, won the race and set the fastest lap. He could not have done either with me sitting beside him.

From the Sidelines

I sat at the side of the track and watched as best I could. I could see karts going round, but I could not tell who was who or who was in the lead. I only found out my friend had won when it was all over.

After the race I went back to the desk. The staff apologised and gave me a full refund.

What Counts

I was disappointed, and I will not pretend otherwise. I had been looking forward to this more than almost anything on the trip.

But Go Anyway has never said that success means finishing. Discovering a limit counts. Stopping can be the right result. A challenge sized for three karts became an overwhelming one with thirteen, and the honest response to that was to step back rather than push through.

Watching some of the karts go round, I doubt I would have been much slower than a few of them. That was never the point. Speed was not the risk. Unpredictability was, and with that many karts on the circuit it could easily have ended badly for someone.

I still had my share of the day. Watching my friend enjoy his birthday race, and hearing at the end that he had won it, was worth something too. From Kartmania we went on to Coopers Brewery, the second half of the birthday plan and an afternoon I could take part in fully.

Next Time

I would love to try go karting in Adelaide again. I cannot do it on my own, so it will be with friends, on a quiet weekday, booked by phone, with the plan agreed before we arrive. One slow lap behind them. Then on my own.

Reader Challenge and Invitation

Before your next big challenge, decide what would make you stop, and tell the people going with you. Then go anyway. If you reach that line, trust it.

All accessibility details in this article were verified against the organiser’s published information at the time of writing. This reflection is based on my personal experience on the day. Individual experiences may vary, and none of the points raised are intended as a judgement of the event itself, but as an honest account of how I navigated it with my own access needs.