Everytime I sign up for a grassroots drift event, I hear this imaginary voice saying, “Hey, you’re going to drive, not take pictures. You need the seat time! Don’t bring the camera! Why are you packing a telephoto?!” It further devolves into creepier depths of schizofrenia, but I always end up checking out of the conversation all the same. In retrospect, this is probably part of why I still suck at drifting.
Lonestar Bash is generally a two day affair. It’s a big drift party all weekend and generally a good time to cool down from the pro-am competition series. I wasn’t able to attend Saturday’s festivities, so I came up to Mineral Wells on the following Sunday Morning when everyone else was still either asleep or hungover. Evidence of the previous night’s antics yet remained in the forms of empty SOLO cups and occupied sleeping bags.