DRIF7ING 3Y D1G1TS
THREE SIMPLE NUMBERS IN THE ‘TEAM PRODUCED 732’ NAME REPRESENT SO MUCH MORE THAN THEIR FACE VALUE. BEHIND THE AREA CODE ARE YARNS OF A BOND SOLIDIFIED OVER DECADES, KEEPING THE DREAM ALIVE, AND SLAYING TYRES IN THE NAME OF MATESHIP
The South Island’s West Coast is associated more closely with storm clouds than those created by sustained loss of tyre traction. The area’s well known for its breathtaking natural scenery, definitely not for retina-tearing liveries clinging to acutely sculpted fibreglass bodywork. Finally, the crash of the Tasman Sea against rugged shorelines is far more prominent than the scream of an RB or SR engine bashing the limiter, backfiring while hooking gears, and blasting spent gases through an external gate on the way to the next apex.
But, for a trio of good ol’ slidey boys from Reefton, a small town just inland of Greymouth, the area is synonymous with both. Tourism New Zealand might push the grandeur and beauty of the Coast’s natural splendour, but, for Kieran Meijer, Mark Connell, and Aaron Andrews, it’s a region where an affinity for modifying cars — and, perhaps most important, doing it all alongside your good mates — was born.
“There’s, like, 1200 people at best in the town, so if you share common interests with someone, you’re pretty much going to be friends,” Kieran quips.
The bond between Kieran and Aaron began at just eight years old, as they played rugby alongside each other, while, a few years later, Mark showed up in town.
“We grew up together, chased girls together, hung around the skate park being youths, and, in the end, all got the same wallet-crippling hobby of drifting,” we were told.
The transition to sliding was natural for the trio. For all of its small-town charm, Reefton has one hell of a skate park, albeit a somewhat brutal one (anyone who’s skated it will know how uncompromising that surface is) offering the first taste of antisocial freedom on wheels. Inspired by the scumbags of CKY, menacing the poor innocents of Reefton’s limited footpaths lasted only as long as it took to get behind the wheel.
Kieran reckons that the period of living in “shit flats”, coupled with an introduction to driving — no, hooning, actually — by way of thrashing around in “shit cars” pretty much doomed the lads to a life of throwing significant amounts of the pay packet at turning fuel into noise, smoke, and sideways motion. Stories of going lock-to-lock in Holdens on remote coal roads might’ve had something to do with their penchant for looking out the side windows more often than the screen. After all, a few giggles out on the back roads is where it all starts, right?
The key catalyst came when Aaron, at the tender age of 17, showed up with a Spec R S15. Mark and Kieran define it as a “holy shit moment”, and, after another mate got himself an RX-7, the others rushed out to get in the driver’s seat of their own turbo rear-wheel-drive (RWD) cars. Late-night missions from Reefton across to Christchurch via the twists of Lewis Pass ensued, all to be part of the then-booming, and more civilized, Christchurch street scene. Cutting laps of the four avenues, making friends, and chasing ladies were all part of the appeal, but, more important, of the trio’s friendship.