Taught to drift by Caterham F1

Drifting isn't easy. Not the meandering through life aimlessly sort, but putting a car sideways with a degree of grace and style.

As a means of getting from A to B quickly, it's heroically pointless. Unless you happen to be on a forest stage, where a well-timed Scandinavian flick is patently the best way to string together a sequence of corners.

But on tarmac, drifting doesn't make much sense - it slows you down. Tyre-smoking opposite lockery is an essential part of the motoring journalist's skill-set, though - which is reason enough to do it. What's more, if you can do it properly, it looks effortlessly cool.

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I can't. Without pockets deep enough to regularly re-shoe my rear wheels - or the requisite private road, I've never tried my hand at the art of ham-fisted hooning.

Enter the Caterham Driving Experience along with a pair of Sevens, a car park in Milton Keynes, some strategically placed cones - and a couple of Formula 1 drivers.

Drifting with Caterham F1

It's the run-up to the British Grand Prix, and Caterham Cars in conjunction with Formula 1's newest brand, the Caterham F1 team, are laying on a bit of a treat for a few journos. Also along for the ride are Caterham F1's current crop of drivers, Heikki Kovalainen and Vitaly Petrov. Somehow, I slipped through the net and blagged an invite.

The format for the evening is pretty relaxed - after the briefest of briefings from Caterham's CDX drift team, it's a case of in you hop and off you donut.

The recipe for a donut is pleasingly simple according to the CDX guys - pile on the revs to get the engine screaming, then wind on some lock and dump the clutch before pirouetting gracefully - and noisily - around a cone.

And if it were that simple I'd be an expert drift-meister by now. But it's not, and I'm not.

Doing donuts isn't easy

The idea is to do a practice run first - pulling off a donut and then drifting around both ends of a figure of eight to give the instructors a chance to observe the level of incompetence they're dealing with.

Sauntering up to the cone I feel the pressure building - and the eyes of the audience burning into the back of my helmet. An audience that includes a couple of F1 drivers, Sky TV's F1 presenters and several more talented wheelmen than I.

What happens next is a flailing mess of clutch-riding embarrassment. An excess of mechanical sympathy and a dearth of skill sees me failing to unstick the rear end with any real conviction, and instead I fire the Caterham into some cones with an apologetic chirrup of rear tyres, before laboriously repositioning the car for another go.

This happens several more times before the weary arm of the instructor calls time on the sorry spectacle. I don't cover myself in glory first time out, then.

Sweat, yes - but glory, no.

Size matters

Problem (read: excuse) number one is size - the Caterham Seven doesn't have the most accommodating cabin, and for the broad of frame it's a tough ask to get any proper arm twirling done.

The diminutive roadster also has a narrow pedal box, which doesn't favour size 12s. Much of the trick to a drift is steering on the throttle - when your right foot is also resting on the brake, it's a bit difficult. So when I come back in for a dressing down from the instructors, it's off with the shoes.

"Just be brutal" - wind on more revs and plenty of steering lock before dumping the clutch - that's the advice I focus on before sheepishly heading back out for another go.

This time out, I throw mechanical sympathy to the wind. With wilful disregard for the drivetrain I plant my right sock to the floor and let the engine scream, before dropping the clutch.

From inside the smoke-filled cabin the result definitely seems more convincing, as I grapple with a pleasingly pendulous rear end and sense the arresting whiff of tortured rubber permeating my nostrils. Executing a couple of donuts, I also manage a few of laps on the figure of eight at a satisfyingly jaunty angle.

Yes, there's a suggestion of skill now threatening to break through my thick veneer of incompetence.

On-board with Vitaly Petrov, Destroyer of Tyres

This new-found confidence lasts until Mr. Petrov takes me out for a passenger ride - at which point it quickly withers. Vitaly's driving style is a curious mix of unbridled aggression and precision.

He is also an unquestionably efficient destroyer of tyres - not something he'd want to mirror in the day-job, no doubt. The nonchalant ease with which he throws the car around is deeply impressive though. And slightly irritating. Ditto Kovalainen - you get the impression they'd both be totally at home behind the wheel of anything.

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The competitor in Petrov also shines through - whilst waiting to head out I grab a few words with him - and all the while he's got one eye on Heikki's efforts. A curious fascination with the on-board fire extinguisher also makes me slightly nervous, but he's happy to offer a few concise drifting tips - "the right foot - use lots of it". And with that, a fog of vaporised rubber begins to fill the air.

Later in the evening whilst removing bits of shredded tyre from my face, I have a chance to reflect on whether I'm now any less of a sideways simpleton. The answer is yes, a little. But much more practice beckons - perhaps a supersized Caterham next time, if possible, please chaps.

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