If you’re one of the handful of people who follow this blog you may have found yourself wondering how I came up with the name Run-Matsuo. Is it randomly through together to sound JDM? No, not at all. In fact it’s a shout out to my early days of drifting. And by early days I mean 25 years ago. Yeah, I’m getting old. Everything hurts when I stand up and I hate new music. With that being said… on with the story. I’m going to include some pictures throughout this narrative that I took at Matsuo on a visit back to Japan 5 or 6 years ago.

I bought my first Silvia in 1996. It was a 1990 S13 Silvia K’s with a CA18DET under my hood. At the time I didn’t know much about it besides the fact that it looked cool, had a turbo, and was way faster than the Honda Prelude I had been driving. Being in high-school at the time, one might wonder how I could afford a 6-year-old S13 Silvia? Fortunately for me the Japanese shaken system (bi-annual vehicle inspection) drastically drove down car prices after a few years. That, combined with the fact that an S13 Silvia in those day was not hard to come by, meant my meager savings account and the profit from the Prelude I quickly sold added up to the $1,000 I needed buy, insure and register it. I know that number may seem shocking considering the same car would be worth $15,000+ at this point.

The Silvia was completely stock, but that didn’t last long. These were the days when you could go to a local junkyard and find stacks of Silvias, 180SXs and Skylines, some stacked 4 or 5 cars high. I spent hours crawling them, looking for any cool part I could find. Some of these ended up on my car and others I would take to the used part shops in Hiroshima to try and turn a small profit. It wasn’t long before my S13 was sporting an A’PEXi intake, Blitz blow off valve, Greddy Super Megaphone Dunk exhaust (yes, that’s a real thing), GAB suspension, and a Recaro seat..

After a few months of cruising around town and racing from stop light to stop light, I found myself in a conversation with a 180SX owner at a local Yellow Hat. After asking about his car he told me how he “raced” up in the mountains with some of his friends every weekend. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it definitely sounded cool, and possibly illegal, which made it seem even cooler. I asked if I could join them the following Saturday night, and he agreed.

Fast forward to Saturday and I meet the 180SX owner and few of his friends at a Lawson Station on the outskirts of town. After a bit of conversation, everyone jumped in their cars and I excited followed. Before long I found myself heading through a small inaka (countryside) neighborhood following a Lancer Evolution and an SR20 powered 180SX. Slowly, the houses began to disappear and all that lined the road were guard rails and dense bamboo forest.

After winding our way up into the mountains, the cars ahead of me slowed to a stop next to a junction in the road ahead of us. To my right, the forest had parted and afforded me an unobstructed view of the valley below. We hadn’t driven more than half an hour, but were surprisingly high up into the mountains. The road we had driven up on continued ahead, but it was clear we were there for the smaller road heading further up the mountain to our left. It’s not hyperbole to say this was one of the seminal moments of my life. One that would spark a passion for motorsport that would continue to this day.

Night had fallen, but the Lancer and 180SXs headlights abruptly shut off, and their 4-way flashers came to life. Not quite sure what was going on, I excitedly followed suit. No one got out of their car. We just sat for a short time, waiting for something. In the background I could hear the rising sounds of squealing tires and a buzzing engine. Suddenly the sounds stopped and I saw headlights coming down the small road to our left. They belonged to a Toyota Levin that rolled out into the intersection, made a quick U-Turn, and headed back up the small road to our left. The 180SX and Lancer quickly followed, trailing behind the Levin, headlights still off and 4-ways still flashing. I carefully followed, not realizing I was driving up Matsuo touge for the first time.

Our flashers lit the mountain wall on our left as we wound our way up the small mountain road. After a few corners I could see the Levin ahead of us slow to a roll in front of a small grass parking area behind a break in the guardrail. There were only two other cars there, another Toyota AE86 (this time a Trueno) and a JZZ30 Soarer. The Levin carefully backed in and turned of it’s headlights, leaving only it’s parking lights on.

As we parked and got out of our cars, it was clear the 180SX driver and his friends new the drivers who were already there. We all gathered and started chatting. My Japanese was pretty basic at the time, but I followed the conversations as best I could. I was hearing terms like “grip” and “drift”, which I had a vague familiarity with, but didn’t fully understand. After finishing a cigarette, the owner of the Toyota Levin jumped back in his car, pulled back out onto the road and headed up “Matsuo”.

It was dark and cold, but I was too excited to care. After a few minutes, I could hear the Levin making it’s way back down the course. The sounds of squealing tires being drown out by the buzz of it’s high-strung 4AGE motor. Suddenly, it sounded like it was right in front of me and I saw headlights on the guardrail. The Levin came flying through the corner sideways, it’s front-end facing away from us. Quickly it pivoted the opposite direction, and it’s headlights shone directly in my face as it flew past the parking area. Then, like it was on a pendulum, it swung back around as it moved through the next corner. This was the first time I had seen a car drift in person. I was speechless.

For the next few hours I watched excitedly as everyone headed out one-at-a-time, and made runs up and down Matsuo. Not all of them drifted. The Lancer Evolution was gripping. Literally running the course as fast as it could without losing traction. The Trueno was doing the same. It was the JZZ30 that was putting on the biggest show. With a big turbocharger under the hood, it had the power to easily drift up and down the course with plenty of speed.

Eventually the owner asked if I wanted to ride with him, and I could barely contain my excitement as I jumped in the passenger side of the Soarer and put on my seat belt. He pulled out and drove to the bottom of the course, and made a U-Turn in the intersection just like the Toyota Levin had at the beginning of the night. With his car now pointing up Matsuo asked me, “okay?” in English. I responded, “ikimasho!”, and he said, “Let’s go!” as he dropped the clutch and tore up the mountain.

I’d like to say I remember the experience of being in a drift car for the first time. But, to be honest, it was a blur of guardrail and mountain wall, and the feeling that I might die. Being in the car, everything seemed so much faster than it did watching from the parking area. After a dozen or so corners we reached the top of the course, turned around in front of an old, creepy tunnel, and waited for the 180SX to run the course and line up behind us.

Suddenly the Soarer tore off down Matsuo with the 180SX following closely behind. If going up seemed fast, going down seemed way faster and way scarier. I felt like we were an inch from the guard rail the entire time, and didn’t understand how we weren’t hitting anything. In no time we had reached the bottom and turned around ahead headed back up and did it all again.

Eventually, the night ended and everyone parted ways. I followed my friends back to the Lawson Station for a final chat and quick snack, and then headed home. I couldn’t believe what I just experienced and couldn’t wait until the following Saturday so I could try it myself.

Over the next few years I spent every weekend at Matsuo. Some nights there would be a few a cars there and other nights a dozen lining the side of the road at the base of the course. I started off gripping, and eventually found myself learning to slide through the corners. Tips from other drivers increased my confidence, and before long I found myself drifting Matsuo. I slowly got better, and was eventually able to link the majority of the course.

In time I found other courses to run, but Matsuo was always be my favorite. I’ve been back to Japan a number of times, and while touge drivers still remember Matsuo, its no longer active. My last visit to the course was nearly a decade ago, when I took the pictures you see scattered throughout this post. Although Matsuo looked exactly the same, the massive reflectors bolted into the center of the road (also known as “cat’s eyes” had put a stop to any drifting.

So, if you ever wondered why this blog is called Run-Matsuo, it’s simply because it’s where I learned to drift on. I used to literally run Matsuo…