We arrived on top of a mountain to the sight – and sound – of a red Audi tearing across a track carved into the snow, looping around four giant Audi rings etched into the ice. The whole scene looked like a car commercial come to life. Our creative director Georgia Bramley and I had come for the Audi Ice Experience in Queenstown where we’d spend the day learning how to drive, or more aptly, how to drift on ice.
I was behind the wheel; she was co-pilot. In traditional FQ-style, our fitcheck was everything, and we were decked out in the latest Audi/Huffer collab – a signature Huffer puffer designed especially for the event, in crisp white with bold black-and-white stripes. It was very race-car driver-esque – which only added to the atmosphere.
It has to be noted that this was not my natural habitat. My default driving style is… controlled. With three kids and a school and daycare run to complete most days this is exactly the driving I need to do. Which, as it turns out, is exactly what you shouldn’t be when driving on ice. The first thing the instructors told me? Let go of control. Easy to say, harder to do when you’re used to having both hands firmly on the wheel in all aspects of your life.
The day was a mix of drills and challenges, each one designed to teach us to work with the ice rather than against it. We tackled ‘Mini Finland’ – a glassy, frozen flat where the aim was to drift, not drive. Over the radio came the feedback: “Car 6, you look too much in control!” I took that as a gentle reprimand to loosen up and lean into the corners full throttle.
By the afternoon, we’d tested a line-up of cars: the Audi RS 6 (ferociously fast), the Audi S3 Sportback, and my personal favourite, the fully electric Audi Q6 e-tron. As much fun as the ice was, I couldn’t help imagining myself in the e-tron back home – quiet, smooth, and loaded up with the kids in the back.
The highlight, though, was the ‘hot lap.’ We strapped into the back of an RS 6, helmets on, while an experienced driver [Rich – a multisport expert from Downforce] took the wheel. At 130 km/h, skimming the bends, the snow spraying up around us, we were screaming with laughter from the sheer rush. I’d liken it to a rollercoaster ride but in this case one where we trusted the driver implicitly.
The grand finale was a time trial. Georgia and I approached it with competitive optimism. Our instructor Sam recommended I ‘be aggressive’. We pushed hard, drifted as wide my inner control-freak would allow, and crossed the finish line to the soundtrack of Top Gun blaring over the speakers [thanks to co-pilot Georgia]. Needless to say, there was no podium finish for us – but we didn’t come last, and that was victory enough.
At the end of the day four helicopters landed on the ice. We climbed in, lifted off, and watched the track shrink below us, the perfect white canvas now marked with track marks from our day’s efforts.
It’s hard to think of a more exhilarating way to spend a day: learning to let go, testing the limits of some remarkable machines, and doing it all in one of the most surreal landscapes imaginable. My takeaway? Sometimes you need to let go of control – especially if you’re lucky enough to be behind the wheel of an Audi on ice.
