{"id":48105,"date":"2017-06-07T15:15:50","date_gmt":"2017-06-07T14:15:50","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.influx.co.uk\/?p=48105"},"modified":"2022-06-14T12:08:13","modified_gmt":"2022-06-14T11:08:13","slug":"drift-outlaws","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.adrianflux.co.uk\/influx\/culture\/drift-outlaws\/","title":{"rendered":"Drift Outlaws"},"content":{"rendered":"

Wah\u2026 wah wah\u2026 waaaaah!! In stabs and ricochets, a deep-lunged bellow thumps out of the gloom.<\/strong><\/p>\n

Far over to our right, beneath the ageing concrete flyover, a square-edged shape pivots through 90 degrees and launches into the sunlight. Squinting, you can make out a pair of kidney grilles and a Hofmeister kink: BMW motifs swimming into focus. But this is no middle-lane, middle-aged 320d. Eight angry cylinders shake in the open engine bay, beneath acres of ducting and a spinning, screaming supercharger. Frankenstein\u2019s monster has got his slide on.<\/p>\n

\"Outlaws<\/a><\/figure>\n

The BMW skids across the width of the arena, holding a constant angle and trailing clouds of bright white smoke. Squealing tyres and jabbering motor, alternating between deafening blasts and silence. Somewhere beyond the action, a crowd overflows through the spectator area, the walls, the pavement and shrubs of grass on the hill high above. There\u2019s an amphitheatre spirit: too-cool-teens catching the action with a wall of iPhones; children gawping from their parents\u2019 shoulders; a sea of fingers pointing and gasping at the action.<\/p>\n

\"Outlaws<\/a><\/figure>\n

The driver slashes at the handbrake, locking the rear axle, and the car bounds back the other way. A second later, less than a blink or a breath from the concrete wall, the tyres are spinning again, in a single horseshoe drift that sprays sound and smoke over the crowds. Tiny pellets of vaporised rubber rain down in its wake, coating everything with a thin film of sickly-sweet black. Drift Outlaws is in town.<\/p>\n\n\t\t