Hugo’s eight five. |

Hugo’s eight five.

This is Hugo.

This is his F20C powered AE85.

Dirt dropping street drifting Toyota perfection.

For this post I’m going to try something new and have a smash at writing about the car in question.

Rather than list a bunch of mods for fitment and spec fans to fap over I think I’ll take a different approach and write about how the car made me feel. Sitting here on Monday morning, happily killing time at work I’ve had a bit of time to work things over in my head, so here goes:

I met Hugo at his place, outside in the afternoon sun quietly cleaning off the caked on rubber from past track days of abuse. There, sitting in his driveway sat a rather innocent looking AE85. Hugo told me that he had recently got it back from being tuned and it was making more power than when I last saw it. We talked for a while about the car and its history but quickly made the obvious decision to take the car for a drive.

For those of you who are not familiar with New Zealand, our roads are quite similar to a third world country. I’m serious, in some spots where the road has been recovered, it looks like the work has been completed by a blind, one-armed midget named Steve.

As Hugo’s AE85 crossed the patchwork of Steve’s badly lain tar seal I distinctly recall the smell of exhaust gas and gearbox oil leaking into the cabin. Filling my nose enough to make a normal person sick, but for some reason I found it strangely comforting.

As we moved to our destination I noted the cars handling. Now my personal hate is when writers describe a car’s handling or the ride as “good” or “5 stars” or whatever the fuck weak ass description they manufacture..

This Toyota’s ride was like being stabbed by a Russian drug lord after a deal gone wrong. Purposeful and unforgiving.

However, it all became quickly and rapidly clear as we reached our twisty destination. Sliding through the back roads the car felt planted and poised. Predictable and intentional. Listening to the F20C in full song bouncing off the limiter was enough to make grown men run and school girls cry.