I still remember the day when the then all rather new sport/activity/lifestyle of Drifting grabbed me by the throat, slapped me around the ears, and – pretty much – turned my life upside down.
It was a Friday afternoon open test day at Pukekohe Park Raceway and I was there – as I often was in the years I was the Editor and (nominally chief road bike tester) of Kiwi Rider motorcycle magazine, to ride a motorcycle, rather than watch a bunch of drift cars get into all sorts of out-of-shape trouble around the track. But, you know what happens when something piques your interest……………….
But I’m getting ahead of myself. Colleague Geoff Osborne and I used to head out to Pukekohe on a test day Friday, pay the $90, and use the motorcycle sessions to properly test and photograph the high performance sportsbikes (Suzuki GSX-Rs/Yamaha YZFR1s/Suzuki Hayabusas etc) that were all the rage at the time.
With its loooooong back straight, mix of fast and slow corners (not to mention fairing-grounding bumps, hollows and divets) ‘The Park was a perfect place to push these high-speed projectiles in relative safety – except after the bloody drifters had been out!
They’d fling themselves off the track so regularly, in fact, that track manager Gary Devon was constantly postponing our (motorcycle) sessions so he and his helpers could head over to the Castrol complex of corners and sweep back off the track all the dust, clods and layers of that distinctive terracotta-coloured dirt the drifters had dragged onto it.
That little issue aside, I couldn’t really see what all the fuss surrounding this new ‘extreme’ motorsport was all about – until the day future D1NZ champion Adam Richards rocked up (all the way from the ‘Naki, as it turned out) with a bunch of mates and a cool, desert camo-painted (and what I later found out was an RB26 Nissan Skyline GT-R-engined) Nissan Cefiro.
These days of course, loud, low-slung (the term I believe is ‘filleted’) ‘Cefs are a dime a dozen. But then (this would have been 2005 of 06) it was the first proper drift car I think I had even seen at close quarters. And I don’t mind admitting, I was impressed.
As you do when you are at days like the Pukokohe ones you wander round checking out who else is there and what they are riding or driving. And after chatting away about all sorts of bike, car (and even 4×4) stuff I left Adam to it.
I remember doing a second bike session then (as I waited for the third and final one) wandering down to the Castrol esses to see whether Adam was in actual fact any better than the other guys in their 180 SXs and 4AGE Toyota AE86s who seemed always to be tripping over themselves and flinging themselves off into the salad.
The result, as it turns out, is still etched in my mind.
First of all came the sound; an angry otherworldly howl as the kicking, bucking ‘Cef exploded down the start/finish straight, Adam hooking gears as he went, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Australasia’ fastest right-hand-entry sweeper was fast approaching.
Then, just as I was mentally brushing up on my 111 phone manner, there was a barely imperceptible pause, followed by a sonic-style ‘boooooom’ then a skrrrr, skrrrr of handbrake and tyres as Adam effortlessly flicked the big ‘Cef first one way then another (at the top end of fourth gear and probably around 160/170km/h) as he set himself up first for a full-on ‘broadside’ through the 200km/h the sweeper then a late ‘switch’ for the quick but deceptive left, right, right, sweep through Castrol and the end of the circuit’s drifting section.
It was a performance which was at once as violent as a prison yard gang brawl and as far from the established ‘laws’ of control as anyone could imagine, yet at the same time as smooth and liquid as oil flowing from a container, and as millimetre-perfect as a lap record-setting TRS or Scottie Mclaughlin Supercars pole lap
I – in a word – was gob-smacked, and resolved to find out more about this new-fangled sport called ‘Drifting.’
Thirteen years later the car I originally built as an all-purpose ‘club/Targa’ car is now a dedicated ‘drifter’ complete with flash US-made ASD hydraulic handbrake.
In that time I have entered and trailered the old R31 to grassroots drift meetings all over the upper North Island. At these meetings I have probably been the oldest driver there by at least 20 years, yet I have never been made to feel any less welcome by the 20-somethings organising them or the Gen Xers and now Millenials who I join on the track for typical 20 minute free-form skid sessions.
Over the years I have seen many people – young, old and in-between – try their hand and like me, immediately fall hopefully, head-over-heels in love with doing things in a car you simply couldn’t imagine unless you have first seen someone do it.
That said I have also seen the odd person try but fail miserably to let all those years of ‘grip’ training go.
I know, it took me at least two sessions at Meremere to allow myself to let go of the steering wheel the first time, and then it was only after my coach that day, Jonny Udy, suggested – in the most diplomatic way possible – that I should let him actually drive my car so I could see what it was capable of.
The result was terrifying and illuminating in equal proportions, but it definitely worked because afterwards I was throwing the old Skyline around like a Boss.
Like Surfing, Drifting is very much a lifestyle activity; to the point where some of the best drivers actually prefer the laid-back vibe of a typical grassroots day over the more rigid battle-based format of the local Link ECU and Demon Energy-backed D1NZ National Championship.
Turn up at one of the many grassroots days organised around the country by the different groups and one of the first things you will notice is how social the sport is. Every car has a passenger seat and bringing along friends and family members to share the thrill is par for the course, something you just don’t see at traditional ‘grip’ meetings.
Right now the activity to still going gang-busters at the grassroots level, with no real sign of things slackening off. What’s really great about the sport/activity/lifestyle at the moment, too, is that – again, like Surfing – there is room for everyone; from a constant stream of newbies seeding the bottom end as those already hooked, continually upgrade their equipment and seek greater challenges. Not just at home either.
One of those challenges is paying homage to the home of the sport – Japan – with Kiwi drifters now regulars at Ebisu, the self-styled ‘home’ of the grassroots side of the sport, high in the hills east of Fukushima, approx. 3 hours north-west of Tokyo.
The fact that I am still one of the few blokes chucking a car around at events with a decent-ish sort of prior motorsport CV tells me that Drifting isn’t for everyone. Daynom Templeman made the transition from NZV8s to D1NZ absolutely seamlessly. As has top kZ2 class karter Graeme Smyth. But most of the others attracted to Drifting came from what these days you would label ‘extreme’ sports like motocross, skateboarding and whatever doing outrageous stunts on BMX bikes is called.
Because I got my start in competition on dirt bikes I suppose I got used to things slipping and sliding underneath me from a fairly young age which I think has helped me adapt.
That said, how much (the car moves around under you) is really up to you, your car and your confidence/willingness to scare the crap out of yourself/ability to laugh maniacally as you realise how close you were to the armco/tyre bundle/other car but somehow got away with it again. Which, when you think about it is the exact antithesis of what ‘proper’ grip-based motorsport is about.
Perhaps that’s why I like it. If you catch my drift!
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