Approximately 1983. I was sitting in the back seat of my grandparents' old mid-60s Lincoln Continental (it mostly just sat under a cover) when my mom decided to give some family friends a ride home. Long story short.... we stalled at the top of driveway and the car rolled back down through the carport and straight into our brick house.
The back seats of a mid-60s Lincoln did not have seatbelts AND the back of the front bench had chrome trim right at the top corner, right where my young mouth landed. Lost a few baby teeth that night!
And yes, we had a Lincoln Continental fender in our laundry room.
In the mid 90s I was stationed in western Germany, and one December morning I was on my way to Luxembourg Airport to fly home for the holidays. It's a fairly short drive, 60km or so, consisting mainly of hauling ass down the A64 autobahn.
It was early in the morning, well before sunrise, and the weather was typically shitty German winter weather - cold and rainy with pockets of snow and sleet. So I took it pretty easy until I hit the highway, which was more or less dry.
Just before crossing the border into Lux I needed to take a whiz, so I hit the next rest stop/gas station exit I could find.
I wasn't really awake yet, and I hadn't noticed the weather taking a turn for the worse - the rain was now freezing on contact with lesser-used roads. Like this exit.
So I found myself in a two wheel drive Chevy truck, on a solid sheet of ice, heading up a ruler-straight offramp at about 70mph. At the far end of the ramp was a bank of brightly lit gas pumps.
While loudly emitting a diverse array of mil-spec profanity, I managed to get just enough traction with my right front wheel to send the truck into a lurid, slow motion 90 degree clockwise slide, with the front and rear bumpers whizzing past the Armco with what seemed like a foot of clearance on either side. I could do nothing but stare out my drivers side window at the rapidly approaching gas pumps, hoping someone inside was watching and had the presence of mind to hit the emergency shutoff before I knocked them all the fuck over.
Fortunately someone had sanded/deiced the asphalt leading from the ramp to the pump area, and I ground to a noisy, sideways halt about ten feet from the pumps, much to the amusement of the handful of other customers, who probably just had every single stereotype of an American validated in that one instant.
If I hadn't been absolutely terrified, I would have screamed "LLLLLLLLIKE A GLOVE!".
Back when I resided in Florida, I was intrigued by a flock of pelicans who happened to be headed in the same direction. So I decided to follow them. It didn't take too long before my windshield got covered with dropping. 'Twas definitely an "Oh crap!" moment to me.
Riding in the city during a rainstorm going around 35mph, this girl who was parked on the right-hand side of the road suddenly pulled a U-turn in the middle of the road. Those two seconds before I ran into her car seemed to be the longest fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu... moment. It took a couple days to remember what happened when I actually hit the car. Ended up hitting the driver's rear quarter panel and flew over the trunk. Because I was wearing protective gear (I can't stress this point enough to everyone who rides, wear AT LEAST protective gloves, a jacket, and a good helmet. I cringe when I see some dumbass riding around 90mph in a t-shirt. Your name is about to be road-tar.)
I only ended up with some minor cuts on my knee and a minor back injury.
@Dr. H. F. Danger: I can deal with the squids that ride around in flip-flops and a tank top. You want road rash, have at it. What really pisses me off is when they have a woman on the back in the same outfit.
If you're "lucky" (I use the term loosely at this point) enough to actually have a woman, how about trying to keep her in one piece? I won't even give a kid a ride around the yard on a dirt bike without full safety gear. Jackasses.
Unless it's your ex-wife, then all bets are off...
@Dr. H. F. Danger: You know, I'd never advocate violence in such a situation... but I ride too, and would have a hard time not beating somebody senseless with my helmet/bike lock/detatched limb if they made such a boneheaded move right in front of me.
I've had a few fender-benders and spinouts along the way but there was one time when I really thought I had bought a ticket out of this life...
Sitting in a very crowded multi-lane intersection in Orlando, Florida in my '84 CRX. I was behind a semi and there were cars on either side of me. Suddenly I heard a horrendous screech from behind and turned my head to look - a concrete truck had locked its brakes and was noisily and smokily headed towards me much too fast. Because I was boxed in, there was no escaping. I remember thinking that "this it really going to hurt, but only for a few seconds". My brain then screamed GET OUT and I was halfway out the door when the truck finally stopped at an angle, about two inches away from my rear bumper. A couple of cars in other lanes had been hit with glancing blows by the partly-sideways truck but I was untouched. A total of three or four cars had been damaged in the mess. Fortunately no one was hurt, but I came very close to fainting dead away right there on the street after getting out of the car.
It is possible to fishtail on a gravel road in an L-body Dodge Charger. (2.2L, skinny all-season tires on 13" wheels). However, when you lose the back end of the car, you aren't going to regain control -- ever.
This is the first of many lessons I'd learn in my first car. The only thing that stopped my sideways slide was a series of washboard ruts off the left shoulder of the road. The right-side front wheel bit into a rut and for an extended slo-mo couple of seconds I was looking down from my suddenly lofty drivers seat to the passenger seat.
Then all momentum was gone and the car came to rest on all fours. To this day, I'm so thankful I didn't roll it over.
For a second I thought Wes' "Oh, Shit" moment involved forgetting the underwear the day you crashed. That would've been funny.
My "Oh, Shit" moment involved an older dump truck with a couple tons of sand, a large hill at the entrace to the golf-club and a failed set of brakes. I've never been more scared in my life, and my boss had a hearty chuckle when he saw me fly by in his rear view as he turned in. The only reason I stopped was the hill that I had to climb on the opposite side. Funny enough, I went right back the opposite way to get to the course, though I kept it in 1st gear going down the hill. That dumptruck made it up to 90mph and I never thought I was going to make it across the bridge with a slight curve at the bottom.
My first time at the Nürburgring. My apologies, but an inevitable wall of text must follow.
I was young, I was stupid (wait, I still am both), and I wanted to drive the legendary green hell. I didn't have the budget or the presence of mind (or the age, mind you) to go to a specialized car rental agency.
So, off to unnamed chain rental place! I was promised a 1 series BMW or Audi A3, which turned out to be a lie. The only options available were an MPV, a Ford Mondeo or a Golf Diesel. Sadly, I had no other option - that day was my only window of opportunity.
So there I am, early November, light snow falling around, smoking in the Nürburgring's pits/parking lot, leaning on the bonnet of a MkIV Golf. Just wasting time waiting until the guy in the Ferrari, the guy in the M3, the one in the Caterham and even the one in an old, rickety alfa pass the gate, since I don't want to be an obstacle (or worse yet, damage a 360!). After the track is somewhat clear, I make my run.
It starts decently enough, with what I considered a reasonably decent performance for a first day at the track with slight snow, driving a Diesel.
Then came a chicane. I'm not sure which one, to be honest. In all my experience and wisdom (read: boneheadedly), I decided to clip a bit through the red-and-white rumblers on the side of the track - hey, isn't that what they're there for?
Well, the answer is, no, at least not in that corner. Damned things must be almost a foot high. All I felt was a shock, almost as if I had run over some animal, and suddenly the horizon wasn't, well, quite horizontal.
I had gotten a Golf Diesel on Two Wheels. At speed. On the Nürburgring. While it was snowing. Not very high, mind you, but only half the tires were touching pavement for a small while.
I'm not sure what happened. I jerked the wheel. I prayed to any and all deities that might have been hovering over western Germany. I fell back on four wheels and lost traction on the second turn of the chicane. I magically kept the car in the track and the crap in my bowels. I finished the lap cautiously. I let the car cool in the parking lot before I moved it again. I got a coffee. I chainsmoked more than at any other time of my life.
Then I got in the car, Looked at the view, and went back to the track. What can I say? I'm an idiot.
Taking my (hopefully) last Chevy where it wasn't meant to go. I was mistaken in the assumption that a 1994 Chevrolet Cheyenne K-2500 could handle what a big black Ford F-150 could, and halfway up a steep, muddy hill, all four tires began a'spinnin. The "oh crap" moment lasted longer then most, as the truck began slowly sliding back down the hill. Braking did not work, neither did trying to regain control with the accelerator. But it slid, and slid, and slid, right back into a tree. It wasn't just the damage to the door, fender, window, roof, it was the fact it was stuck and I had to find family, friends to help un-stuck it that hurt the most.
He was showing off his Nissan Murano's AWD at the local sand dunes (yes, I know, hindsight and all that). He's running around, drifting along, climbing the dunes, and generally having a good time of it.
Then he suddenly stops. When we question him of why, his answer is "erm, I'm revving the sucker". Panic. Shock.
Ever heard "The truck got stuck" by Corb Lund? Well, it did sink right down, down to the diff. Getting that pig out wasn't fun. In the end, it was two of his friends, along with his wife, brother-, sister-, and father-in-law pushing, while his mother in law saved HD video of the ordeal, promising add a soundtrack.
On a related note, we learnt this bit of trivia: There's an air intake at the bottom of the fascia of a Murano. It's unwise to ram it into loose sand.
@Grive: Solution to both of our different yet similar situations is to buy a big, black 1990 Ford F-150 with quad shocks up front, 4WD with Detroit lockers, Dana 40 diff, in RGSB form, with the 351M/4spd. combo.
11/30/09
The back seats of a mid-60s Lincoln did not have seatbelts AND the back of the front bench had chrome trim right at the top corner, right where my young mouth landed. Lost a few baby teeth that night!
And yes, we had a Lincoln Continental fender in our laundry room.
11/30/09
It was early in the morning, well before sunrise, and the weather was typically shitty German winter weather - cold and rainy with pockets of snow and sleet. So I took it pretty easy until I hit the highway, which was more or less dry.
Just before crossing the border into Lux I needed to take a whiz, so I hit the next rest stop/gas station exit I could find.
I wasn't really awake yet, and I hadn't noticed the weather taking a turn for the worse - the rain was now freezing on contact with lesser-used roads. Like this exit.
So I found myself in a two wheel drive Chevy truck, on a solid sheet of ice, heading up a ruler-straight offramp at about 70mph. At the far end of the ramp was a bank of brightly lit gas pumps.
While loudly emitting a diverse array of mil-spec profanity, I managed to get just enough traction with my right front wheel to send the truck into a lurid, slow motion 90 degree clockwise slide, with the front and rear bumpers whizzing past the Armco with what seemed like a foot of clearance on either side. I could do nothing but stare out my drivers side window at the rapidly approaching gas pumps, hoping someone inside was watching and had the presence of mind to hit the emergency shutoff before I knocked them all the fuck over.
Fortunately someone had sanded/deiced the asphalt leading from the ramp to the pump area, and I ground to a noisy, sideways halt about ten feet from the pumps, much to the amusement of the handful of other customers, who probably just had every single stereotype of an American validated in that one instant.
If I hadn't been absolutely terrified, I would have screamed "LLLLLLLLIKE A GLOVE!".
I did make my flight though.
11/30/09
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11/30/09
I only ended up with some minor cuts on my knee and a minor back injury.
11/30/09
If you're "lucky" (I use the term loosely at this point) enough to actually have a woman, how about trying to keep her in one piece? I won't even give a kid a ride around the yard on a dirt bike without full safety gear. Jackasses.
Unless it's your ex-wife, then all bets are off...
11/30/09
11/30/09
Sitting in a very crowded multi-lane intersection in Orlando, Florida in my '84 CRX. I was behind a semi and there were cars on either side of me. Suddenly I heard a horrendous screech from behind and turned my head to look - a concrete truck had locked its brakes and was noisily and smokily headed towards me much too fast. Because I was boxed in, there was no escaping. I remember thinking that "this it really going to hurt, but only for a few seconds". My brain then screamed GET OUT and I was halfway out the door when the truck finally stopped at an angle, about two inches away from my rear bumper. A couple of cars in other lanes had been hit with glancing blows by the partly-sideways truck but I was untouched. A total of three or four cars had been damaged in the mess. Fortunately no one was hurt, but I came very close to fainting dead away right there on the street after getting out of the car.
11/30/09
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11/30/09
11/30/09
This is the first of many lessons I'd learn in my first car. The only thing that stopped my sideways slide was a series of washboard ruts off the left shoulder of the road. The right-side front wheel bit into a rut and for an extended slo-mo couple of seconds I was looking down from my suddenly lofty drivers seat to the passenger seat.
Then all momentum was gone and the car came to rest on all fours. To this day, I'm so thankful I didn't roll it over.
11/30/09
My "Oh, Shit" moment involved an older dump truck with a couple tons of sand, a large hill at the entrace to the golf-club and a failed set of brakes. I've never been more scared in my life, and my boss had a hearty chuckle when he saw me fly by in his rear view as he turned in. The only reason I stopped was the hill that I had to climb on the opposite side. Funny enough, I went right back the opposite way to get to the course, though I kept it in 1st gear going down the hill. That dumptruck made it up to 90mph and I never thought I was going to make it across the bridge with a slight curve at the bottom.
11/30/09
One time, I saw of these.
Had to wash my eyes out with unicorn milk
11/30/09
I was young, I was stupid (wait, I still am both), and I wanted to drive the legendary green hell. I didn't have the budget or the presence of mind (or the age, mind you) to go to a specialized car rental agency.
So, off to unnamed chain rental place! I was promised a 1 series BMW or Audi A3, which turned out to be a lie. The only options available were an MPV, a Ford Mondeo or a Golf Diesel. Sadly, I had no other option - that day was my only window of opportunity.
So there I am, early November, light snow falling around, smoking in the Nürburgring's pits/parking lot, leaning on the bonnet of a MkIV Golf. Just wasting time waiting until the guy in the Ferrari, the guy in the M3, the one in the Caterham and even the one in an old, rickety alfa pass the gate, since I don't want to be an obstacle (or worse yet, damage a 360!). After the track is somewhat clear, I make my run.
It starts decently enough, with what I considered a reasonably decent performance for a first day at the track with slight snow, driving a Diesel.
Then came a chicane. I'm not sure which one, to be honest. In all my experience and wisdom (read: boneheadedly), I decided to clip a bit through the red-and-white rumblers on the side of the track - hey, isn't that what they're there for?
Well, the answer is, no, at least not in that corner. Damned things must be almost a foot high. All I felt was a shock, almost as if I had run over some animal, and suddenly the horizon wasn't, well, quite horizontal.
I had gotten a Golf Diesel on Two Wheels. At speed. On the Nürburgring. While it was snowing. Not very high, mind you, but only half the tires were touching pavement for a small while.
I'm not sure what happened. I jerked the wheel. I prayed to any and all deities that might have been hovering over western Germany. I fell back on four wheels and lost traction on the second turn of the chicane. I magically kept the car in the track and the crap in my bowels. I finished the lap cautiously. I let the car cool in the parking lot before I moved it again. I got a coffee. I chainsmoked more than at any other time of my life.
Then I got in the car, Looked at the view, and went back to the track. What can I say? I'm an idiot.
11/30/09
11/30/09
11/30/09
He was showing off his Nissan Murano's AWD at the local sand dunes (yes, I know, hindsight and all that). He's running around, drifting along, climbing the dunes, and generally having a good time of it.
Then he suddenly stops. When we question him of why, his answer is "erm, I'm revving the sucker". Panic. Shock.
Ever heard "The truck got stuck" by Corb Lund? Well, it did sink right down, down to the diff. Getting that pig out wasn't fun. In the end, it was two of his friends, along with his wife, brother-, sister-, and father-in-law pushing, while his mother in law saved HD video of the ordeal, promising add a soundtrack.
On a related note, we learnt this bit of trivia: There's an air intake at the bottom of the fascia of a Murano. It's unwise to ram it into loose sand.
11/30/09
Problem solved. You'll never get stuck again. ;)
11/30/09
All I coud think as it was rolling over was " I wish i had a Roll bar"
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