“I could do this,” I said, stepping out of my friend’s 1UZ-swapped Nissan 240SX at a drift event here in New England. Now, if I’m being honest, that line usually gets me into trouble—but has it ever stopped me? No. This moment happened just over a year ago. After taking a hiatus from autocross, I was itching to get back into some form of motorsport. I knew a couple of friends who were already involved in the local drift scene, and Lock City Drift was just under an hour from my home base in downtown Boston. This seemed like a no-brainer, so I got to work.

The Prep

First, I needed a car. It had to be nice enough so as not to cause me problems, but cheap enough that I wouldn’t be bankrupt if I had to write it off. With that in mind, I set a $10,000 budget for the car and mods. After hankering over rusty 240s and trying to convince myself that I should raise my budget to afford a C5 Corvette, I settled on the most practical choice: a 2004 Nissan 350Z. While it didn’t sound the best or look that unique next to the dozens of other 350Zs at every event, it was a reliable ride that could easily slide. I picked up this example for $8,000 with 91,000 miles and a clean (ish) CarFax.

This particular Z came ready to go with budget coilovers, aftermarket swaybars, and, of course, a manual transmission. I had the rear diff welded and my car “drift aligned” by the local speed shop for $400. I then bought a Sparco bucket seat for $350, plus an extra set of wheels and tires off Facebook Marketplace for $500. If you’re keeping track at home, that puts my grand total at $9,250. Toss in an oil change and it was time for my first event.

I approached my first season with a motto: “Seat time is everything.” I needed practice and any money not spent on improving my ability as a driver was a distraction. I wanted to push myself to excel at this sport and catch up to my seasoned friends.

My First Day Drifting

If you’ve never been to a drift event, I would best describe it as a vehicular rodeo. Countless cars slide around corners at speeds that’ll make you sweat, slamming their engine off the rev limiter, and displacing all oxygen with tire smoke for 5-10 seconds at a time. It is an incredible spectacle. 

That was gonna be me by the end of the first day, right? Wrong. 

On my first day, I absolutely sucked. Lap after lap I spun out, attempting to slide my car around some cones. Before this day, I had participated in many parking lot shenanigans, but to successfully slide a car around a preset course without straightening, hitting anything, or spinning out was a different beast. Thankfully the track staff and friends gave me pointers, and by the end of my first day I could consistently slide around, but I was far from seamlessly maneuvering a complete course. My learning curve was steeper than I’d first thought.

Deeply humbled, I signed up for the next beginner clinic on the calendar. These small-group lessons are meant to get drivers comfortable with the basics, without fear of holding up the track. With the guidance of instructors and more advanced drivers, I quickly realized I needed to slam on the gas—both literally and figuratively. The day went by and I was getting closer to success. Sometime during my second full day doing the same lap on that godforsaken skidpad, something clicked. I finally began to understand the balance of gas, steering, and weight transfer in a way that I could timidly slide around the entire track from start to finish. Cheering to myself alone in the car as I punched the air in joy, it felt like I was finally getting it. I knew I could and eventually would, but this was a mega confidence boost.

A great example of why seat time is in fact ‘everything.’

Pushing Myself For More

I dove into the rest of the drifting season trying to get as much seat time as I possibly could. I can’t overstate how much that helped. Tickets to my local events tended to sell out in minutes, so I made sure to hit the “refresh” button at exactly the correct time, pretending I was buying tickets for the Eras Tour.

Midway through the season, I invested in a set of Work Emotion CR Kai wheels to make my car look the part, and a Harbor Freight utility trailer to tow all my tires and tools behind me. Up to that point, I jigsaw puzzled everything into the tiny cabin of the two-door Nissan. While this technically put me over my $10,000 budget, it was a nice present to myself for making it this far, so I let it slide. Heh.

In August, after five events, I really hit my stride. I could consistently drift multiple layouts following cars in tandem. For the uninitiated, that’s when multiple cars try to get as close as possible while maintaining a slide around a corner.

I finished off the season with a bang by attending Drift Nirvana’s Drifters Of December. This involved 250 other drift cars and a 22-person Airbnb rental. For some reason I thought it was a good idea to street drive my drift car 500 miles from Boston to West Virginia, towing my tiny trailer the whole way. Thankfully, the car came out mostly unscathed. I went into that weekend having never been off of a skidpad and left having completed multiple full-size racetrack courses, all while making memories with those sights, sounds, and, unforgettably, that smell.

Looking Back

The drifting community is incredibly kind and inclusive. Although I started as a beginner, I never felt judged for my lack of experience. Everyone was just excited to have more people join the party. Most importantly, I had formed a great group of friends who helped me not only perfect my car but also dial in my driving skills.

After countless laps during the 2024 season, I’m proud to count myself as an equal amongst the drivers I have been watching for years. I used to say, “One day that’ll be me.”  I’m grateful to say that time has passed. 

To prep for the 2025 season, I have a growing list of parts to add to my 350Z including a bolt-on angle kit, adjustable suspension arms, and a subtle body kit. These items should not only improve my car but make my Z stand out from the crowd in some way.

As for my driving ambitions, I hope to graduate to the intermediate level, improve my proximity to other cars in tandem, and if I’m lucky, compete in my first amateur competition.

Aaron Segal works as a Product Manager for Recurrent, The Drive’s parent company. While he spends most of his time behind the scenes keeping the lights on, he has always been a diehard automotive enthusiast and moonlights as a contributor on The Drive. He is based in Boston and drives a highly modified Volvo V70 R as well as the Nissan 350Z drift car mentioned in this article. 

If you want to geek out over expensive 3-piece wheels and delicate fiberglass body kits, or perhaps you have questions about drifting, drop a comment or email me: aaron.segal@recurrent.io