It seems fitting that one of the first posts in my attempt to revive this blog is about a return to Drift 101. The first post in this blog was published in 2016. The last post before the unintentional hiatus, from my first visit to Drift 101, was in 2018.
Re-reading my first post on Drift 101 elicits a few winces, as a lot of things do when reviewing a previous version of yourself. I vaguely remember the state of mind I was in when I wrote it, six months after the class, trying to impart the elation from the experience into the post and also relive it enough to encourage the continuation of my writing. It’s hard to say if I intended to take such a long break from this project, but when I found myself with a little extra time last year I knew what I wanted to do, go back to Drift 101.
As the SF Bay Area continues, seemingly, to shrink, so do the areas to practice…err…car control. That, combined with an increasing amount of “I’m getting too old for this shit” makes the already questionable activity of sliding your car around downright foolish. Nevermind getting confused with or grouped with the “Takeover” set. Back in my day we found spots away from town to have a good time harumph harumpph harumph.
And sure, you could just go to a car control clinic or any number of drift events to get a few sessions in but, arguably, those are more intimidating than track days. Whereas you can show up to a track day with a Honda Odyssey and still have a good amount of fun, the needs for a drifting event require a more specific tool. Is your diff locking up? Do you either have junky enough tires or enough power to break them loose? If no to the prior question, is your e-brake tight or your clutch healthy enough to handle a few kicks?
None of those issues are insurmountable, but unless you have a spare car built more for drifting or are so lost in the sauce that you’ve modified (read: ruined) your daily just for the purpose, they’re enough of a blocker. My AE86, which had been a previous owner’s drift beater, ate its T50 transmission right around the time I attended Drift 101 back in 2018. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back, and the replacement for that car was yet another iteration of my Miata lyfe, all expensive sticky tires and next to zero practice sliding around.
The cars after that would be similar non-drifty things; another E30, a Z4M Coupe, an NC2 Miata, an Integra Type R. Despite my appreciation of the skill and shortening list of things I wanted to do with cars, I just couldn’t get around to drifting. By chance, the drifting inspiration was reignited by a midnight excursion in a borrowed GR86 in late-2022. I actually had test-driven the BRZ when they first came out back in 2012, but the amount of things about it I didn’t like made me gun shy. I bought a used S2000 instead. This time it seemed that Toyota had fixed everything that bugged me about the first generation. The GR86 had a nicer interior, a much more usable torque band, and even smaller things like the clutch feel had been improved. This time I went out and bought one brand new.
One of the things I liked most about the car, now mine, was the balance. You could feel how eager-to-play the rear axle was. At the same time, I was also well aware that my skill in balancing that rotation had room for improvement. So, what better way to get more comfortable managing rotation than to take a[nother] class on drifting?
Though still 240SXs, the school cars had been updated to S14s. S13s are what I picture first when I think of drifting and are what I was in last time, but the S14’s improved weight balance via the fuel tank repositioning made for an easier ramp-up. Though I came into it acknowledging I’d, at best, forgotten everything from the first two-day class and, at worst, developed a bunch of bad habits layered over the previous lesson, an unrecognized muscle memory kicked in pretty quickly. What’s more, despite my belly aching on the dearth of remote parking lots and undeveloped subdivisions, being at the Willow Springs Speedway reinforced the safe feeling of a closed environment, allowing me to focus on the task and not random curbs or whether that noise was a passing ambulance or an approaching constable. Donuts quickly became figure-eights, general exercises became more focused on clipping points.
The adage “the more you learn the less you know” is a great help in describing the learning curve. My first class was valuable for correcting a lot of assumptions and poor habits in this area of car control, and the more comfortable I became this time around the more of the Matrix I could see. Mind you, I couldn’t actually read it. You don’t go from Cantonese 101 to watching Infernal Affairs in its original language, and nuances like modulating e-brake application and understanding that rear grip is not an on or off condition continued to bake my brain. Just being able to see those concepts existed though was encouraging.
Like before, I didn’t spend much time trying to record my experience. The two snippets below are what I got before my GoPro ate its batteries and I just moved on. They don’t look like much (did any of my other exercises?) but they stick out for me because they’re nearly the same exercises that I managed to complete at a [self-graded] C level one out of every ten times in 2018. This 2024 instance was more like one out of four, with that lovely effect of allowing me to see the opportunities for improvement instead of just the struggle to complete the tasks. Not impressive for the drifters out there, I’m aware, but you gotta start (restart?) somewhere.
Am I ever going to get around to building a drift car? Who knows. Every time I take this class the inspiration is there, but the thing I really want to take away from this is not just going sideways. Rather, I’m looking for that expansion of the skill envelop and the broader universe of grip just beyond the breakaway point, seen in every performance car review, every racing highlight, and present in every good car like the GR86. Hell, it’ll probably still come in handy during that next Honda Odyssey track day.