Driver education in this country is a joke. There's a place where you can learn to do better, and it kicks ass. Let me explain why you and everyone you know should go to rally school.

I'm an embarrassingly slow driver, but I was lucky enough to be offered the chance to take part in a two-day race driving class at the Performance Driving Center at Sonoma Raceway and, while it didn't turn me into Mario Andretti, I'd like to pass on some of what I learned to any other rank but hopeful amateurs.

Throughout the How To Drive Fast series, I’ve offered opinions based on the experience I’ve amassed during my 17-years behind the wheel. The whole basis of this column is to help you drive faster, and learn the tricks and techniques utilized in the quest for victory. But for this piece, I turned to my friends for help: …

Tucked away in a factory, deep in the heart of England, a group of engineers worked tirelessly through the winter. Their dream was to craft a World Championship winning machine, capable of re-writing the history books. They garnered the most powerful engines, enlisted the world’s fastest drivers, and constructed an…

Most of my “How To Drive Fast” column is, unsurprisingly, about how to drive fast. As well as posing techniques, some of my pieces offer a glimpse into the inner-workings of motorsport, while others are just plain ridiculous. Siphoning through the bunch, you’ll notice I haven’t much talked about safety. So let’s start…

The Fiat 500 Abarth is one of the most hoonable cars on planet Earth. Despite being front-wheel drive, shaped like an Ostrich egg (and measuring about the same size), it oozes character, flamboyance, and drivability. It is, in fact, impossible to drive the little Abarth and not hoon – regardless of what the trip…

Entering the turn, aboard a NISMO 370Z, I stabbed the clutch, hit the gas, and turned a hard left. The backend pivoted heroically, the rear tires bellowed smoke, and I felt like the most badass motherfucker in history.

Stories are told about how drivers change when the helmet goes on, the visor slams shut and the engines roar to life. Some say the "nice guy" demeanor is replaced by a wild, savage creature desperate for success, no matter the consequences.

Ever wondered what happens when a professional racecar driver steps out of his car during a race weekend? You might imagine a mass of flashing cameras, adoring fans, and servants delivering gallons of caviar to $2 million motorhomes. But that, unfortunately for racers, is not the case.