Opinion: The surprising rarity of true driving enthusiasts

Just how many of us are out there? By us, I mean drivers. Those who pore over maps, set early morning alarms on Sundays, see the potential for fun in almost anything four-wheeled and can lapse into a daydream about a particular corner apex at any given moment. The reason I ask is that I’m minded to think we might be a bit thinner on the ground than we might sometimes imagine.

It’s a different, yet often overlapping part of the Venn diagram to those who love cars. For some, actually driving a car is something that diminishes and tarnishes their prized possession and must be avoided wherever possible. This is not my tribe. For proper drivers, a performance car represents the means rather than the end.

I had pause to ponder where all the drivers were a couple of weekends ago, on one of the greatest driving roads in Victoria. I expected to find a few kindred spirits, maybe getting their eye in a few days ahead of Targa High Country, but there was nothing but cicadas and wattlebirds for company. Where were all the Civic Type Rs, Hyundai N cars, AMGs, Ford STs, BMW M models, RS-badged Audis or the Porsche sports cars that swelled their Aussie sales figures in 2021? Not where the good roads were that day, that’s for sure.

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And then there it was; the sound of an engine being extended, a distant chirrup of tyre across the valley. It was a four-pot, not especially melodic and given the cadence of the gearchanges, the car certainly had three pedals. Lotus Elise maybe? And then it burst out of the corner nearest me in all its glory. A white 2020 Corolla. Pure vanilla on wheels.

The driver, a young lad just off his green P-plates, spotted me sitting by the side of the road with a box-fresh BRZ and leapt straight onto the picks, introduced himself and wanted to know everything about the new Subaru.

He asked if he could sit in the BRZ and I noticed his humble Corolla was riding on Michelin Pilot Sport 4 rubber, a significant step up in ability from the standard Bridgestone Ecopia low-resistance mediocrities. I asked him about the car and he said he’d upgraded the tyres and brakes, but had left everything else standard.

His dad had chosen the car for him as something that was safe, which handled well and which would teach him how to drive a manual car properly.

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As he followed me back to Eildon, it was clear that dad’s investment had been a good one. Junior’s lines were tidy, he carried speed cleanly, his driving was courteous and he’d already got the hang of a very crisp heel and toe.

It turned out that dad used to modify his own circuit cars and had passed the genes along. Young Ryan admitted that what he really wanted was a Fiesta ST but that he’d probably wait a couple of years before taking the plunge.

I drove home encouraged to have met one person who got it. I stopped for fuel on the way back and encountered a group of blokes with shiny supercars at a servo who visibly sneered at the bug-spattered BRZ and was instantly reminded that there’s a whole group of car people who will never get it, for any number of reasons.

Perhaps it’s up to us to educate them, to help them understand the capabilities of what they have purchased. Or just possibly, they need to one day encounter an enthusiastic young lad in a wholly unexceptional Corolla and discover that the badge on your bonnet doesn’t always carry the day.

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