Gmeteer, I'm gonna have Spitzer on your case...

not entirely my fault but not blameless either.....

In my Toyota 4-Runner (the older ones with a fiberglass top and built in roll bar) with my wife, skis, boots, snowboards, clothing bags, food etc.

Going up skiing in the spring and cruising at a comfortable 60 or so on an empty highway. No snow on the ground at this point and a beautiful blue sky day.

As the road was winding along a river I came around one bend and the truck immediately drifted in to a full lock oversteer. We were in black ice from tree shadows across the road. I correct and do a decent job of getting the end swapping in hand and then the ice ended. With the newly reintroduced friction and still sideways, both right hand side tires were pulled off their beads and deflate. We snap over and land on the roof, continue rolling and sliding down the road and end up wheels down backed into an embankment over a ditch.

I got my wife out and we walked across the road. Almost immediately an EMT on his way up to the mountain stopped and helped us out. Now it was just waiting for the police/ambulance.

Truck was a complete write-off. There was not one straight body panel or intact window left in the truck. Both seats were broken There was NOTHING loose left inside. The skis were suspended across the ditch with the truck on top (and toast), snowboards, boots, clothing were scattered up the road. How we escaped with only whiplash and no serious injuries I have no idea.

But what I cannot understand is watching a truck that had been behind us before the whole thing happened, drive by looking at us after we stopped moving. They never even lifted.

It's New Year's Eve 1972, I'm 16 and have had my license for about 4 months. Four buddies and I decide we want to go spend the night in Pasadena and watch the Rose Parade in the morning. My dad throws me the keys to the "old" car, a 1964 Ford Galaxie, with the reminder to take it easy because the trans was starting to slip.

I think dear old dad already had a couple shots that night and he forgot how bad that trans really was, because this car wasn't driven often. Anyway, the 5 of us got about 2 miles from home and that was it, no movement in any forward gear. But good news... reverse still worked!! That's right, we... errr I, backed that beast up on city streets the whole way home. It's almost midnight and cars are approaching our headlights like they were avoiding the death-ray laser. I think we scared a few people almost to death. Amazingly, we made it home safely and without getting arrested.

Steve, Elliot Spitzer showed up in our town for a fund raiser last winter at the Knights of Columbus hall, driving a blue Chev. Impala, all alone! (of course he was only a candidate then) Maybe there is hope for us New Yorkers! The usual way these guys arrive is in a fleet of white Suburbans, with a full posse, so I think he is genuinely a different breed. But probably not part of the fast cars and risky behavior breed. Glenn

I was pulling out of a parking lot, crossing two lanes of bumper to bumper traffic and one turning lane.
Some one waves me by, I floor it, cross the two lanes, I hear a loud bang, tought someone got in an accident.
It was me getting Tboned, some one was flying in the turn lane.
Luckly I was going fast enough that I just spun.
the guy got cited, he hit me in my driver's door.
Thank God for my lead foot :).
Never will I trust anyone waving me by again.
Gino

Driving to college one morning I decide its too cold to clean the mirrors off real well. the alley way is narrow and I'm driving a ford f=150 with my fathers piggy back camper. Little old lady is driving in middle of alley so I move over to the right as far as possible. All of a sudden the front of the truck picks up into the air and comes bouncing down. I continue to drive until I have to make a left and notice the truck feels lighter and there is no longer a camper on the back of the truck. I hit a big tree branch just high enough to scrape the camper off and not hit the truck. Funny thing was I couldn't stop laughing and the cop wasn't amuzed. Sides of truck bed were facing out and camper was a complete lose. Explaining it to my father was even better!

In 1972 at the ripe old age of 16 I went sailing into a left handed curve way too fast on wet streets. Lost control of my pride and joy, a 1966 Mustang fastback I bought out of a junkyard a year earlier and spent 12 months scrimping and saving to to repair a blown 4 speed tranny and roaring rear end.

Wrapped the right rear quarter panel around a small tree. Never could afford to fix it right so I beat it out with a sledge hammer and spray canned it. After a year or so sold it for $500...after all old Mustangs were relatively disposable at the time.

Oh yeah, did I mentioned the Mustang beater was a real, live Shelby GT 350H (one of the Hertz rent-a-racer cars)?

At the time it was a just beat up old 'stang with a gaudy black and gold paint job. Nowadays restored ones are into the low six figures.

Oh well...live and learn

20 years old:

Agreed to drive my passed out friend back to the States from a bar in Canada (lower drinking age) in his 93 Probe GT. He woke up for two minutes before we hit the border and insulted a row of bouncers closing out the bar that we left, just before passing out again. Within 5 minutes I had 5 bouncers chasing me all over downtown Windsor, Canada in their RX-7. We were going against traffic at 75 mph. After hitting a Neon at 10 mph, I thought I lost them when I pulled into what I thought was a dark road. It turned out to be a truck loading dock with grass sides at really steep angles. When they found me and boxed me in there was nothing to do but floor it up the edge, getting the Probe about 2 feet airborn and cracking all of the ground effects. We used up so much fuel in the chase that I ran out of gas in the middle of downtown Detroit once me made it across the border. Good Times, Good Times.

Driving my Aston Martin in college back from a bar totally drunk I pass a car and miss an oncoming semi by less than 10 feet and he hits his horn and I'm thinking what is his problem? I can't believe I'm still alive. For those of you who don't know, I bought the car for nothing in the service as a piece of junk.

Big Midwest blizzard, 1982. Coming down hill into corner in '72 Honda Civic, tapped brakes, slid right into freshly plowed snow mountain - buried past doors, over roof, had to escape through hatchback! Pulled car out with neighbor's 1000 cc snowmobile and nylon tow strap.
Fun fact: Other neighbor's silver Cosworth Vega had all the driver's side sheet metal shaved off by snowplow driver who didn't realize there was something under those five-foot drifts.

Running off turn 3 @ Sebring seems to be tops on my list.http://forums.pelicanparts.com/uploa...1168034067.jpg

I think it's supposed to shut down. I did this just the other day and the engine RPM dropped right off. What surprised me was after I shifted down from 5th to 4th and let the clutch out, the CC came back. The Boxster doesn't do that. If you hit the brakes OR clutch, the CC disengages and you have to reset. On the '88, I had to then tap the brakes to break engagement.

Back to bonehead driving moves. I've had a few, but the most recent and really memorable was at Willow Springs driving the '71S going into 3 on the cool down lap. I was at about 75% when this guy comes barreling in behind me still at racing speed. He had an instructor, too!!

I looked in my mirror just long enough to get unnerved and did not hit the gas when I was supposed to, just turning in at, as I say, 75%.

Well, you know the tail snapped around and I went into the ditch, hit the embankment and bounced back. It messed up the car pretty good. 3 bent wheels, bent steering and crossmember. All at 50 MPH.

But, it was my fault entirely letting this bozo spook me. That will NEVER happen again. In the future, under the same circumstances, either he will hit me or I will hit him. Now I know it's still my line, cool down lap or not.

My First Skip Barber race, at LRP. I start in p9..after nerves settle, start working my way through field, faster and faster thru downhill..racecraft working well. On the 2nd to last lap, I guess (no radio) that I am in p3, and p2 is directly in front of me headed into downhill. I gain some speed on him in dnhill, and head into big bend VERY hot, neck and neck with him. At the limits of traction mid-turn, there isa pile of dirt from soemone else's off...I loop it 180 degrees stopping in middle of track. In Barber series, if you go 4 off, there is a 10 or 20 second time penalty. So I curse, turn around (4 off) andfinish 6th.

BAD: It turns out that theguy I was chasing was not p2, I was LAPPING him (no radio)

WORSE: Once spun, I could have yanked the wheel, popped the clutch, kept 2 on the track, and finished p3 and podium!

BETTER: I had the 2nd fastest lap time of the race

:cool:

That is hysterically unfortunate. What a great story!

I don't really count jumping the Porsche seeing as I did it on purpose more then once. :D
(In Orange County westbound on Garfield between Brookhurst and Bushard. Stay in the right hand lane over the drainage channel. It is a very smooth landing at 95. Make sure you take your foot out of it while in the air so it doesn't over rev.)

Around 1976, I was leaving my high school in my father's beloved '68 Cougar. On the school driveway, right in front of the school, as school was letting out & everyone was loading onto the buses, I decided to "gas it" a bit.

There were lots of wet leaves on the drive, & the next thing I knew I was sliding across the wet grass, brakes locked, heading for the woods. I hit a tree head-on. LOTS of witnesses...not my finest moment.

FYI, when braking on wet grass (pre-ABS) it felt like the car was actually accelerating -- it was definitely NOT slowing down!

Thankfully nobody was hurt (my brother was with me) & Dad was very understanding.

Oh, when my senior yearbook came out I discovered that I had won the coveted "Car Meets Tree" award.

Doug

Driving a truck that was lifted to high in a rush. I started to go down the wrong street so I came to a quick stop, checked my rearview, since I saw no cars (it was late and night and there were barely any cars on the road) I gassed it in reverse so I could get back on the right street....I had forgotten that my rearview mirror had fallen off while off roading the week before, but I remembered as I came to a screeching halt on a saturn sl2. I felt like the biggest jerk while trying to explain to this lady that was in the car why I just ruined her car By the time I stopped my tires were where the saturn's hood met its windshield.

When I think about my early years driving I feel lucky to be a alive... and lucky to not have taken out anyone else.

Just out of high school I was following a friend's '83 Prelude in my 260Z. We were heading to another friends house. As we entered the subdivision my friend took off. I followed. We were going >70 mph through the winding roads up and down hills. At the crest of one hill that was on a curve, my Z got a bit airborne and landed in the center of the road. I backed off at that point.

Re: Admit Your Most Boneheaded Move While Driving
 

Being drunk. It doesn't get any more boneheaded than that.

In 1979, driving my brand new Fiat Brava 131 in Newport Beach, CA, I saw three bikini clad babes on the side of the road and before I could stop admiring them, I rear ended a brand new 1979 911SC. It was the first time I saw a grown man (the Porsche owner) cry and attempt murder at the same time. Thank heavans he had a friend with him who kept him from killing me.

The repairs on the Porsche shocked my father, especially the $1200 for the specialty exhaust system that the guy had on it that had to be replaced.

After owning Porsches for almost 20 years now, I can understand both the crying and the attempted murder.