Races on Rachadaphisek are held every Tuesday and Thursday night, but Saturdays usually pull the largest crowds. By midnight vendors and restaurants are preparing for the night as racers and their fans start to fill roadside grills to drink whiskey and Red Bull, a vitamin drink that is a favorite with long haul truck drivers for it’s speed-like ‘kick’. Even before the racing starts, bets are planned: motorcycles, money and girlfriends are all up for grabs on the track.

As the police make regular patrols of the street, timing the races is crucial. Like real flies, the racers will emerge out of nowhere to start their races and like flies they will scurry when baton wielding policemen appear. Clashes between police and bikers are common, with racers being shot and killed and cops being run over by vengeful bikers. So outrageous have some of the incidents been that even Thailand’s revered King Bhumipol has spoken out against the racing.

Regular police crack downs have little effect as the numbers of racers and race ways increase with every new mile of asphalt laid down to serve the car. While officials view racing as a law enforcement problem, it is increasingly obvious that racing is a byproduct of Thailand’s rapid industrialization. In the past 20 years the country has witness massive social and cultural shifts and the governmennt has done little to help those affected and disenfranchised by Thailand’s chaotic development. The racers have little to do in Bangkok, where parks have been paved to make car parks and parents struggle to make ends meet in the new material world.

Bangkok’s ‘flies’ are a perfect metaphor for the sprawling, unplanned capital—uncontrolled, wild and in your face. The racers, like Bangkok, heed no rules and obey no laws. While Thailand’s leaders speak of teenage delinquents and broken homes, the flies are in fact the natural result of Bangkok’s cruel, impersonal and destructive roads. Born in the concrete and steel jungle, they only obey the laws of that jungle.