rusty
Turbocharged
Although not proud of it, I do boost about it from time to time (my record that is, which started at the age of 15). And since we are all sharing stories, here's mine.
I believe I wrecked every vehicle my father owned. The retired 64 Schlitz beer delivery pickup (with a ghost of the Schlitz sign still on the door), the 1971 Kawasaki 500, the 67 Chevy Biscayne, etc. I wrecked several of my own vehicles too. The 61 Biscayne, the 71 Suzuki Savage, the 67 2 door Impala, the 78 Yamaha (which I still have), my wife's (then girlfriend) 78 Buick Regal, etc. 13 accidents before I hit 25 years of age. Just call me "Crash".
The storys behind a few of the incidences':
The Kaw: I did a power slide into the back of a pickup (farm truck), which was stopped at a stop light. The guy told me to not to worry about it & get out of there. We (Dad, my brother & I) log chained the rear wheel to a tree and threw another around the front wheel, the other end to the back bumper of that old Schlitz truck. After a few finely graduated "yanks", the front forks looked pretty straight & that was that. I don't think it ever rode the same, imagine that.
The Schlitz truck: my Dad never owned a "new" tire in his life. If you could run your finger across the tread area (note I said "area") and could tell there was a sign of thicker material residing there once upon a time, it was a keeper. Anyway, one winter, after taking every know approach there was to get home (we were fortunate enough to live "atop" one of the highest points in town which could be accessed from 3 sides), I finally found a route the allowed success, and during the negotiation of a chicane (swerve in the road) those tires (recall the ones I spoke of) didn't hold the road too well & I found myself in the middle of a neighbors truck.
The 67 Biscayne (I believe I wrecked it more than twice): One Saturday we (my brother and a few friends) were getting ready for a big night of events and needed a few more things to finalize our mission. We are all in the car downtown behind another car at a stop light (sound familiar?) when a car load of girls pull up beside us (we are on a one way street). So, after a few seconds of tossing glances back & forth, and a few smiles, the light turns green and the girls take off. Darn the luck, I'm still in the middle of one of those "tossed glances" and see them moving forward. So, I step on the gas, only to smash into the back of the car stopped in front of me. Now, here's the kicker, we were all headed to the parts store for those final items needed to get the "old wreck" we had bought, ready for the demo-derby THAT NIGHT!, and I was the only one old enough to drive it. I tell everyone it was my "warming up" moment.
I believe I told more than my Dad ever knew so I'd better stop while I'm ahead. I can only pray that he isn't in the truck with me tonight on the way home (forgive me Dad).
See ya.
I believe I wrecked every vehicle my father owned. The retired 64 Schlitz beer delivery pickup (with a ghost of the Schlitz sign still on the door), the 1971 Kawasaki 500, the 67 Chevy Biscayne, etc. I wrecked several of my own vehicles too. The 61 Biscayne, the 71 Suzuki Savage, the 67 2 door Impala, the 78 Yamaha (which I still have), my wife's (then girlfriend) 78 Buick Regal, etc. 13 accidents before I hit 25 years of age. Just call me "Crash".
The storys behind a few of the incidences':
The Kaw: I did a power slide into the back of a pickup (farm truck), which was stopped at a stop light. The guy told me to not to worry about it & get out of there. We (Dad, my brother & I) log chained the rear wheel to a tree and threw another around the front wheel, the other end to the back bumper of that old Schlitz truck. After a few finely graduated "yanks", the front forks looked pretty straight & that was that. I don't think it ever rode the same, imagine that.
The Schlitz truck: my Dad never owned a "new" tire in his life. If you could run your finger across the tread area (note I said "area") and could tell there was a sign of thicker material residing there once upon a time, it was a keeper. Anyway, one winter, after taking every know approach there was to get home (we were fortunate enough to live "atop" one of the highest points in town which could be accessed from 3 sides), I finally found a route the allowed success, and during the negotiation of a chicane (swerve in the road) those tires (recall the ones I spoke of) didn't hold the road too well & I found myself in the middle of a neighbors truck.
The 67 Biscayne (I believe I wrecked it more than twice): One Saturday we (my brother and a few friends) were getting ready for a big night of events and needed a few more things to finalize our mission. We are all in the car downtown behind another car at a stop light (sound familiar?) when a car load of girls pull up beside us (we are on a one way street). So, after a few seconds of tossing glances back & forth, and a few smiles, the light turns green and the girls take off. Darn the luck, I'm still in the middle of one of those "tossed glances" and see them moving forward. So, I step on the gas, only to smash into the back of the car stopped in front of me. Now, here's the kicker, we were all headed to the parts store for those final items needed to get the "old wreck" we had bought, ready for the demo-derby THAT NIGHT!, and I was the only one old enough to drive it. I tell everyone it was my "warming up" moment.
I believe I told more than my Dad ever knew so I'd better stop while I'm ahead. I can only pray that he isn't in the truck with me tonight on the way home (forgive me Dad).
See ya.