Eric Thompson: All praise to gladiators in steel

Holden's pride was salvaged by Garth Tander and Will Davison. Photo / Getty Images

Gladiators in steel. That's the only way I can think of describing the blokes who take their lives into their own hands around the streets of Bathurst.

Don't ever forget, the Mt Panorama circuit was first built as a tourists' Sunday afternoon drive above one of the oldest inland towns in Australia.

Thank the Lord someone had the foresight to recognise a better use for that loop road, now the site of the most iconic V8 endurance race in the Southern Hemisphere.

It's nearly 30 years since I've been to the Mt Panorama track, and boy have some things changed. But crucially the most important things remain the same.

The racing is still as fast as ever, the drama still as high, the crashes still as spectacular and the competition as close as ever. Yet again, after six hours of fender-bashing and the cut and thrust of close racing, it all came down to the last three laps to see who would hold aloft the Peter Brock trophy.

Garth Tander and Will Davidson salvaged Holden's pride after the mauling the red lion has suffered at the hands of the blue oval the past four years at the Bathurst 1000.

Over the four days' racing at the mountain, one thing is obvious. Each driver is willing to throw everything, including the kitchen sink, at the chance of winning this most iconic of tin-top racing events.

On race-day morning I caught up with Kiwi driver Craig Baird, who has participated in more long-distance races than most drivers could poke a stick at.

He's competed in 24-hour and 12-hour events and more than a few Bathurst 1000 races.

Howling around the Bathurst hills for six hours in most folks' mind would qualify as a feat of endurance - but not so, says Baird. He simply described it as a "six-hour sprint", unlike anything else in the world.

You can't really disagree with him. For the past couple of years mere seconds have separated the top two finishers. Gone are the days when drivers could win by a lap or more.

I even ventured up to the top of the mountain, in daylight I might add, and although things have calmed down a lot since the late 1970s and early '80s, there's still a whiff of the halcyon days when cars were burned, toilet blocks were blown up, burn outs were a must and the chances of being run over by a motorised couch were high.

Even though things up there are more civilised now, I still made sure I was back in the media room come sundown. But rest assured, the magic that is the annual Bathurst 1000 is still alive - and if anything the racing is even better.

Just as the race was finishing, I got a call from a friend who wanted to know what was going on.

New Zealand television had gone to the news with a couple of laps to go, so I did my bit and ran a commentary, live over the speaker phone, to a household in Rodney.

That's how important this magnificent race is to motor racing fans.