More VW Scirocco Love

[speeder]

Originally Posted by island911

No, of course not. That gets into Exorbitant Fee category.

I was only responding to the question of strong enough to survive comparison considerations.

And if that Sirocco slams driver's-side sideways @120mph into an old-growth oak tree, I expect that the driver will not survive, even if the cage holds.

No way the driver survives that scenario in any vehicle. As they say, “you canna defeat the laws of physics,” or something like that.

Your noggin and the rest of you would be going 120 mph inside of a stopped car.

[Shaun @ Tru6]

For reference, and I wish I had taken better pics, here's what an 89 928 looks like when the passenger door slams into a telephone pole at 70mph. Notice where the passenger A pillar is. That's where the rocker is. Again, wish I had taken side view pics.

[speeder]

That car actually survived pretty well, (or at least the passengers probably did). I’ve seen much, much worse. Like ones where the rocker and roof are almost all the way through the inside of the car.

[Racerbvd]

Originally Posted by Shaun @ Tru6

For reference, and I wish I had taken better pics, here's what an 89 928 looks like when the passenger door slams into a telephone pole at 70mph. Notice where the passenger A pillar is. That's where the rocker is. Again, wish I had taken side view pics.

And yes, it does hurt..

[Mike Andrew]

Since nobody else has.....

That'll buff right out.

[fintstone]

I was much younger than my peers in school and got my driver's license much later than most in my grade/peer group. I was intent on thoroughly enjoying the freedom that came along with it (a person that lived in a rural area was essentially a prisoner without transportation). I had jealously watched most of my classmates enjoy the privilege of driving for a couple of years or more and was ready for my turn. I had bought a '65 Mustang for $100 about a year earlier and was ready to go!
Adventure, girls (dating), recreation, and enhanced job opportunities were all ahead.

Perhaps my success in driving illegally to the State Police office to take my driver's test was a window into things to come. I guess the waiting made me a bit wild (or it was the newfound exhilaration at the power of a V8). I was stopped for speeding (85 in a 55 zone) on the way home from work (Burger Chef) at around 1AM the next day. The Deputies laughed their butts off that I had only had the license for a day ...and were swayed by the fact that I was coming home from work and very respectful. They gave me a warning.

The next week, I was doing a burnout in front of my place of employment. I was not really thinking (was angry about a slight from another teen) ...so did not really look for the law as I should have. It was an exceptional burn out and I was sideways and smoking tires when I noted a city police car approaching from the other direction. I thought...maybe he didn't notice. No such luck. I looked up into my mirror and watched him turn on his lights and make a u turn. Crap! I looked back at the road ahead to pull over, but had not let off the accelerator and was almost to the light and it had turned red. I slammed down on the brakes hard and locked the puny drums up. The car was sideways and going too fast to stop.

In my idiocy and inexperience, it suddenly occurred to me that I could turn right on red. I had never turned right on red but had heard it was now legal...and rationalized that the required stop first was simply a technicality that I might talk my way out of. Since my slide/skid was already turning me, I spun the highly assisted (60's effortless power steering) wheel hard right and floored it, executing an almost perfect (if accidental) turn (out of the slide) and continued up the side road, looking for a place to pull over to wait for the policeman to catch up. I continued on for miles as there really was no place to stop on either side (no shoulder). Apparently, he was unable to make the turn or just gave up. I heard he actually could not make the turn and ran off the road at the intersection. He did catch up with me much later and gave me a hard time...but it was too late (lost sight of me and did not have my license number).

This little adventure made me sort of a local legend as the kids at the Burger Chef had watched in awe as I burned by with the city cop lit up and about a block behind me...then showed up later having apparently eluded him. The story spread quickly. Yep. Me and driving was going really well. Freedom and a reputation as a badass.

A couple of weeks later, I found myself driving down another deserted country road late one night after getting off from working the closing shift at Burger Chef. My plan was to find out where a friend lived in a nearby area (although I did not have an address or map). I guess I assumed that I would see their distinct muscle car. A '67 GTO. Back then, it seemed everything was possible, and magic happened if you just put yourself out there and wanted it badly).

It was a strange road to me and an interesting drive. The road had a river on one side and a deep ditch and a rocky cliff on the other (where they had blasted the road out of the mountain). The curves were amazing (much like those on the Dragon). The road was a little wet from an intermittent drizzle, but my car was doing well. I took each new curve a little faster, marveling at the way one could drift the rear farther and farther on each curve before correcting for the next in the other direction. It was very linear, and you could predict almost exactly how much speed you could get away with. I congratulated myself on what an excellent driver I was and sped up more. I wanted to get up to 90 (on my slick, worn out tires).

I was just about there when I plowed into the next curve. It looked just like the rest so I powered into it. Unfortunately, it was a lot longer and kept going almost in a complete circle. The point where it turned back was much, much farther into the curve and I lost it. I fought the wheel, trying to keep it on the road. First, I was going to hit the cliff, then over the bank into the river! Quick, back the other way...and bam, the cliff. (after jumping the deep ditch). I was briefly airborne and the car sorta stuck in the mountainside.

I had no roll cage or even a shoulder harness/belt. It looked much like that 928, but worse. The car accordioned, driveshaft and tranny came up through the floor, fenders and hood peeled off. The windshield was broken out...it looked like my head had hit it somehow...as there was my hair in it. The engine was fully exposed like that 928 as the radiator was pushed back through the fan. The car was so compressed that the tires on the passenger side were very close to each other, maybe only a foot or so apart. The passenger side had broken/flattened the seat as the floor came up almost to the ceiling. The only place that was not badly destroyed was the driver's seat. None so lucky as a fool?

I was briefly (I think) out cold, but still remember waking up and thinking, darn, I tore up my car...and trying to start it. Of course, it would not start. It never occurred to me that I might have been killed. I was ok, but my nose was bleeding quite a bit as the lap belt held me in but did not keep my face from slamming into the steering wheel. I thought I had just broken it again, but it turned out that a nostril had caught on one of the prongs of the distinctive Mustang three-prong steering wheel and sorta ripped it loose at the bottom. Had to get to sewn up/on later that morning.

I climbed down from the car and dropped into the ditch....and started the long walk to the city in the wee hours of morning. Alone and cold. It was December and starting to rain. I had no coat and holes in my shoes...and the cardboard I patched them with melted in the puddles.

My freedom was short lived but spectacular.