A paradox played out in Miami during a recent Formula 1 weekend: On fashionable city streets, a tangled toy box of candy-colored Lamborghinis, Porsches and other performance cars were all dressed up with no place to go — certainly not at the hurricane-force speeds for which they’re designed.
One speed-demon destination for them will soon be found two hours north — in St. Lucie County, on 663 acres of former orange groves. There, Ari Straus and his family are plotting the P1 Motor Club, the latest country-club-style racetrack that lets members indulge their inner Ayrton Senna or Lewis Hamilton.
Mr. Straus and partners are spending $270 million to build a pair of motorsports circuits where members and their families can satisfy a need for speed, and learn the art of driving from real professionals, not a high school gym teacher. Those include Mr. Straus’s daughter Aurora Straus, who drives a ferocious Mercedes-AMG GT4 for Murillo Racing, teamed with her newlywed husband, Kenny Murillo.
Ms. Straus points to an explosion of interest in motorsports, led in part by the Netflix hit docuseries “Formula 1: Drive to Survive,” on F1 drivers and their ruthless teams. Add a postpandemic urge for bucket-list experiences, and wealthy people willing to pay for them, and members’ circuits are growing globally.
“We learned from Covid that life is short,” Ms. Straus said. “Having a life-changing experience with family and friends you care about is something we value exponentially more today.”
As the P1 Motor Club takes shape, I recently rode shotgun on a four-wheel-drive tour with Mr. Straus and Chris Duplessis, a four-time U.S. rally champion, snapping photos of alligators lazing in irrigation canals. Enormous earthmovers were carving out lakes and elevation changes, unheard-of on notoriously flat Florida circuits such as Sebring. The tracks integrate homages to fabled corners such as the plummeting Corkscrew at Laguna Seca in California and the serpentine uphill curves at Virginia International Raceway.
“They’re Lego pieces of famous tracks around the world, turned into a monster circuit,” Mr. Straus said.
The difference here is that drivers who make a mistake can slide onto hundreds of feet of grassy runoff instead of smacking a wall or guardrails, as at many old-school circuits, and jump back on the track and nail a tricky corner on the next lap.
An inaugural three-mile Treasure Coast circuit and a forthcoming 4.5-mile P1 Circuit are designed by top companies that have helped create nearly every modern F1 facility. The snaking courses will generate the G-forces and gut-checks that drivers favor, with lengthy straightaways that allow powerful models to top 180 miles an hour.
I got a spin around the Treasure Coast circuit in a Mercedes-AMG GT. The 603-horsepower, 197-m.p.h. brute should be right at home here. Mr. Duplessis, the club’s aptly titled director of fun, took the wheel and began drifting on the still-gravel surface as if we were in a “Fast and Furious” movie. Since my drive, the 16-corner circuit has received a meticulous final paving, and drivers are weeks away from testing their mettle at full speed.
“The idea here is to let drivers explore the limits of their cars, with maximum perceived risk but low actual risk,” Mr. Straus said.
That’s also where expert coaching comes in. In 2014, John Strangfeld’s family surprised him with a “Taste of the Track” day at Monticello Motor Club in New York, a track the Strauses helped found. Mr. Strangfeld, who worked for 40 years at Prudential Financial, rising to chairman and chief executive, had appreciated sports cars for their aesthetics but had never imagined driving on a track.
With his first laps in a Mazda Miata, the racing world’s famously affordable overachiever, he was hooked. A self-described “washed-up equestrian,” now 72, he realized it was time to pursue a less-risky hobby than horse eventing, which includes cross-country and show jumping.
“You’re working with one brain instead of two, and you have a roll cage. It was a good time to declare victory and head to another sport,” he said.
Mr. Strangfeld is among 263 charter members at P1. He said he was looking forward to driving his Porsche GT4 Clubsport, the racing version of the sweet-handling Cayman. He most enjoys racing against the clock, analyzing and improving his performance with his longtime driving coach.
Mr. Straus and other developers credit Mark Basso, who opened the Autobahn Club in Joliet, Ill., in 2005, as the godfather of motorsports clubs. Mr. Basso hit on the idea as a Trans Am-driving teenager, tearing around his parents’ Illinois golf club and drawing the ire of management.
“I thought, why isn’t there a country club for car guys?” Mr. Basso recalled.
By the late 1990s, when he was married with four children, he craved a new physical and social outlet. “How do I get that same passion, adrenaline and camaraderie?” asked Mr. Basso, a former football player. “Golf is OK, but racing is golf on steroids.”
Mr. Basso and his brother-in-law tried to sell investors on the idea. “The banks said, ‘Good luck with that,’” he said.
Unbowed, they offered lifetime memberships, with no dues, to 50 founding members for $100,000 each — “a lot of money at the time,” he said.
Several clubs have followed. At the Concours Club in Miami, members include the four-time Indianapolis 500 winner Helio Castroneves. The Thermal Club runs near Palm Springs, Calif., and then there are Spring Mountain Motor Resort and Country Club near Las Vegas and Atlanta Motorsports Park.
No luxury country club comes cheap, and sports cars cost more than a set of golf clubs or tennis rackets. P1 charged initial members $150,000 to join, and that has risen to $192,000, with a cap of 850 families. Annual dues are $12,000 for each driving family member. Mr. Straus believes the circuits’ design will encourage members to drive more rare and collectible models than they might otherwise avoid risking damage to.
“But if someone comes out in a spec Miata, I’ll be happy,” Mr. Straus said.
Like many peers, P1 will follow another model pioneered by Autobahn: selling real estate to provide capital for development, including lavish clubhouses, lofts or homes with track views, and garages to store cars. Technicians can provide turnkey maintenance for members.
“People don’t want to work on their cars; they just want to come out and play,” Mr. Basso said.
At P1, an initial phase has presold 66 of 68 garage townhouses overlooking tracks. Over roughly five years, plans include 125 luxury residences, a clubhouse, a floating pirate barge restaurant, drifting and karting tracks, and pickleball and padel courts. A Commerce Park will support race teams, manufacturers or suppliers. Mercedes-Benz is already a partner, with plans to host its AMG Experience for owners.
Last fall, Mr. Basso was invited to Japan to speak at the Magarigawa Club, a track perched atop a mountain about two hours south of Tokyo. Circuits have opened or are being developed in Spain, Germany and Australia.
“The seeds keep sprouting from our little tree,” he said.
These clubs are breeding grounds for young racers, but also teenagers taking the wheel for the first time. Ms. Straus and her mother, Molly Straus, plan to replicate a teen driving camp they created at Monticello.
“Dozens of parents have told me they’re more comfortable having their 16-year-old driving, versus driving themselves, which is a testament to these programs,” the daughter said.
The intense concentration demanded by the sport, and its unalloyed joy, reliably transforms teenagers fixated on phones or distracted by social media, Ms. Straus said.
“The same thing that makes racing so therapeutic for adults makes it therapeutic for children,” she said. “I always view track driving as meditation for Type A personalities.”