There’s a first time for everything.
For years, I never paid attention to the sport of drifting. I’m not even sure it’s classified as a sport, but one thing I do know is that drifting gained a fan on Saturday, August 12, during Hot August Nights in Reno, Nev.
Even if it did leave me black and blue.
Having worked in the NASCAR industry for almost a decade, I was familiar with the race cars, drivers and ever-changing rules that went along with the sport. But stepping onto a drifting course was foreign to me. The cars, the drivers, the fans, the rules and the atmosphere were different — and I loved it.
I came to Reno specifically to cover Hot August Nights. I had never been, but was excited to get up close and personal with all the classic automobiles and fully immerse myself in a variety of events. I looked forward to it all.
However, if I’m being completely honest, there was one event I wasn’t looking forward to — the drifting competition. I tell myself now that the blazing heat may have had something to do with my reluctance.
That changed about 10 minutes in.
When we arrived at the Reno/Sparks Livestock Events Center, we walked around the facility looking for the drifting competition. We were expecting to hear the engines to draw us toward the event as a beacon of sorts. We couldn’t hear anything though, so we asked a kind man who pointed us in the right direction.
The competition was already in full swing when we arrived. I stepped up to the chain link fence to snap some photos. Although what was on the track was exciting, the photos weren’t the best because of the omnipresent fence.
A couple minutes later, we were told that since we had media credentials we could stand in the middle of the course to capture video and take photos.
What? In the middle of the course? With cars a mere couple of feet away coming straight at you?
Heck yes! Sign me up!
This was more than I had ever expected. I was not only going to get to learn about drifting, but I was going to get an up-close-and-personal introduction to it.
I donned my media vest and trotted out to the center of the course with one of my colleagues. There were a couple of photographers already standing out there who had been around drifting for years. They briefly told us a little bit about the rules (e.g., if a car spins out or completely straightens out they’re given a score of zero) and what to expect.
For those of you who, like me prior to doing a little research, don’t know much about drifting, according to an article on Motoiq, Kunimitsu Takahashi is “credited with creating the first techniques of drifting.
“The exact start date of when drifting began to be used is shaky, but it did start as a way to combat hard, bias-ply tires of the time, low to zero aerodynamics for grip, or a combination of the two,” the same article states. “This is especially true of the high horsepower cars of Grand Prix racing and Rally racing.”
In Jordan Butters’ article, “It Started in Japan: The History of Drifting,” on Drive Tribe, Butters gives a slightly more defined start date to drifting — the 1970s.
“Takahashi raced everything from Formula One to GT2 throughout his career, but it was his driving style in the All Japan Touring Car Championship (which later became JGTC and then Super GT) during the 1970s that captured the attention of Japanese street races, and eventually inspired the sport of drifting,” Butters explained.
Today, some of the most popular drift drivers are Vaughn Gittin Jr., Tanner Foust, Ken Block, Matt Powers, Ryan Tuerck and Chris Forsberg.
The best explanation for what the art of drifting entails also comes from Butters’ article: “coaxing the car into a slide before the apex of the corner, before powering out onto the straights, holding a high exit speed.”
When we arrived at the course, the drivers were in the middle of qualifying where they each had two chances to qualify for a spot in the field of 16 and a shot at the championship. For qualifying, the cars took the course one at a time until all the drivers had had their chance.
After every car had two runs, the top 16 qualifiers moved on to a championship tournament where the top qualifier faced off against the 16th qualifier, the second against the 15th, and so on and so forth. The two drivers took to the track at the same time for two runs. The winner would move on to the next round. Think NCAA College Basketball Tournament.
One car would start the first run in front and then start the second run behind the other car. Sometimes there was a need for the two drivers to square off for two more runs, usually necessitated by both drivers scoring zeroes.
Standing in the middle of the course, the members of the media were “protected” by small plastic barriers that also served as the course’s boundary. It was adrenaline-pumping to be standing so close to cars racing through hairpin turns and essentially driving sideways while at the same time appearing to be driving straight at you.
In one word, it was awesome.
It didn’t take the first car one full circuit of the course before I realized I could stay there all day, snapping photos and taking videos. As a matter of fact, about mid-way through the championship battle — they were getting ready to start the round of four — my colleague was ready to leave. I wanted to stay; so we did.
But it wasn’t much longer before I had to leave the course on a golf cart.
Midway through the qualifying round, a souped-up blue car blazed through a tight corner right near one end of the media’s designated area before heading into the next turn. The driver, however, didn’t turn his wheel in time and headed directly into our designated area. I was the closest media member and was forced to jump back several yards to avoid being hit.
A couple hours later, during the tournament, the same car was coming around the same turn with his competitor hot on his heels. This time he avoided the designated media area, but instead hit one of the plastic barriers lining the course.
The car sent the barrier flying … right into my left shin.
At the time, I was watching the race through my camera and was focused on the two cars and didn’t realize that one of the cars had hit a barrier, much less sent it flying straight toward me.
The impact sent me backward. To those watching it must have looked like I jumped because the announcer made a comment about “that photographer” being really good at jumping rope. Unfortunately, I can’t claim any type of jump roping mastery.
Fortunately, a golf cart was immediately brought to my side and ushered me off the course where a couple EMTs applied ice to my leg and drove me to my car.
My night as a member of the media at a drifting event had abruptly come to an end.
The thing that disappoints me the most about that night is not that I got hit by a barrier or that I’m sporting a nice, huge blue bruise on my leg, but it’s the fact that I didn’t get to see who won the event.
I guess a drifting fan was born that day. I can’t wait to go again.
