You’ve had it happen to you- an amazing recovering from a patch of black ice, the dodge around the moose that’s wandered into the path of your car – and the two things that they all have in common are the adrenaline-powered butt-pucker, and the realization that you don’t know how you could have just pulled that off. So, hoons, what was your best hoon that was unplanned?
Once, when learning to skiing with my wife, I decided to impress her with my new-found prowess at sliding sideways to a stop. She was already in the lift line, and just as I began my maneuver I hit a patch of icy water which stopped my lower extremities immediately. Unfortunately, my top-half kept going, and I started a spin. Either through instinct, or centrifugal force, my hands – still gripping the poles – stuck out like I was staring in the Big Bear follies version of YMCA. In a matter of a half second, I did a complete cartwheel (the only successful one I have ever accomplished) and landed back on my still-attached skis. I was thoroughly rattled by the unexpected calisthenic adventure, but did manage to make out the fact that the entire lift line – a good 15 people – were applauding my performance. Coming to my senses, I took a bow and got in the line.
Now, that’s not car-related, but it’s an example of what we’re looking for. Have you ever had short-term mad-skills that came out of nowhere? What were the results, and anybody else witness the mayhem?
Image source: [izismile.com]
Hooniverse Asks- What was Your Most Impressive Accidental Car Hoon?
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It was a sunny day after a snow and the temperature was right around freezing so the packed snow on Main St. had a nice sheen to it. I was taking things slowly and started reducing speed well before the stop light near my apartment because I knew the tires on the car were crap. The light was red. I started applying brakes and immediately went into a skid. I released the brake to regain control and tried to slow again. The light was still red and cars were in both lanes ahead of me. The crown of the road was pulling me to the left so I aimed for a small gap between the lanes as I continued to attempt to stop. The back end started to come around. I gassed it to correct, shot through the gap, and now spinning in the other direction, did a nice 180 in the middle of the intersection. I took a breath and parked the car. The light was still red so I gave a little wave to the other drivers and went up to my apartment.
I still have no idea how I made it through that gap without hitting anything.-
I have a similar story to this, however it is less exciting. I was going maybe 20mph with bad tires on fresh snow on a 4-lane road in town, came to a gradual dip in the road, where the back end came around. I ended up cutting across the other 3 lanes of traffic in a semi-powerslide (there was no traffic at the time), completed a 270 degree rotation, and slid backward into a parking spot along the curb of an adjacent side street.
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It was my own stupid fault: I swapped the worn fronts onto the rear, then took a favorite curve in the wet. Easing up to what I knew to be the limit, I feathered the throttle, not a snap lift, and instantly found myself facing the inside guardrail. Off the pedals and still rotating, I piled on opposite lock through 180 and 270, tapped the brakes so we didn't back into the wall, found full opposite lock to bring it all the way around, hit second and went straight.
The scariest thing was the fact that it didn't scare me. The only thought I had was "Aww, man, I'm going to hit the wall and mess up my car." -
Leaving a softball game in my 77 Corvette. Give it a little gas to sling some gravel, end up doing a 360 and keep going.
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It involved a narrow, twisty Montgomery County, Virginia back road that was still wet from overnight rain, a 1984 Peugeot 505, a particularly sharp corner and an oncoming "Farm Use Only" pickup truck which apparently hadn't had an oil change in 40 years, despite being only 25 years old. The details are still, some 13-14 years later, a little sketchy, but I do remember that we ended up in the opposite lane, pointed in the direction whence we came where we had a great view (through the smoke and little bits of truck engine) of the middle fingers extended out the cab of the Farm Use truck.
That was both the first time I stalled an automatic and the last time my friend let me drive his Peugeot. He started driving his dad's old e28 535i the next weekend and sold The Lion, which less than a month later defecated its guts out all over the new owner's driveway.
As-is. All sales final. -
Diagram for you:
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///// | | | X | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | \\\\\\\\\\\\ |–
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\\\\\\\\ {HILL
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\\\\\\\\\\\\\\////////////////////———————————————————————————————-[VRRRROOOOOOOOM!]>
Damn comment length limit. -
And I can't fix that top one… DAMNIT.
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Yes, I am at work, why would you ask?
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Snowy night, coming home from Sis’ & BIL’s Christmas dinner, Mom in the seat next to me.
Probably 3-4″ of snow on the road, coming up to a 90deg bend leading to the home stretch, I decide to put a little left foot braking into it ’cause cars a more fun slightly sideways, right?
Welp, it was a little slicker than I thought and I went FULL sideways.
Quickly countersteered and administered adequate doses of FWD acceleration when needed…
…and pulled off a seemingly perfect pendulum turn (w/o the requisite opposite flick) like Wyatt Knox, the other dude, and to a lesser extent Tim O’Neil taught me.
(Come to think of it, the guys at O’Neil’s have saved my bacon several times afterward and more than once with Mom on board (avoidance of a herd of deer in the middle of the road on the other side of the hill going at speed was another one)) -
That is actually how you bring a FWD car out of over steer, by getting on the throttle some. It's hitting the brakes that will make it worse.
Intentional hooning has taught me this.-
I learned that the first day I drove, legally, on a public road – fifteen and a half, a few inches of snow the previous day so there are still patches, my grandfather takes me out driving.
I came out of that skid juuuust fine, thanks. Not too impressive, but a small trial-by-fire.
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The previous winter I had new front tires and worn out rears. That gave me several examples as to why that is true and is probably why I did the right thing on the gravel road.
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My best involves situations for which I hope the statute of limitations has expired.
Practicing to be a good driver before getting my license (I was 15 at the time) my friend and I were trying out some maneuvers late at night on a 1990 Escort on a back road. Going way to fast, and not being experienced, I slammed on the brake pedal when a rabbit ran out into the road. (yes, I should have plastered it's guts all over the place, but that wasn't my initial reaction back then)
No ABS, of course, so the car swerves to the right and into a whole mess of shrubs and bushes all along the passenger side of the car. S#!T, I'm in a whole bunch of trouble. I drive my buddy home, tell him it was nice knowing him, and go home to park the car, getting no sleep, waiting for the screaming to start the next morning.
To my surprise, nothing happens, I hear the car leave, come back a couple hours later, leave again, back again… Now it's afternoon, and I have to get out of bed, so as I do so, my mom asks me to help her with an errand. Thinking to myself, this has got to be a trap, she knows about it, now she's just waiting to make me say something first…. damn, she's good! But i won't speak, i'm better!!!!
She gets in, and starts the car. Now there's no way I can get into it the way it looks, so I have to say something: "Mom, what happened to the car?"
She gets out, looks at it, gasps, and says: "I knew I parked too close to that truck at the store!"
Holy s#!t, I'm gonna get away with it…… and I did….. for years…. but that's another story. -
Diagram for you:
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Great story!
p.s: "I learned to drive in cars with all-independent suspensions– specifically, an E28 BMW 528e and a W124 Mercedes 300TE" Rich twat! ;P-
I've learned a bit from my solid rear axle.
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"I slammed on the brake pedal when a rabbit ran out into the road. (yes, I should have plastered it's guts all over the place, but that wasn't my initial reaction back then)"
Ahhhh! To be young, naive and stupid.
p.s: sneaky bastard for that mom trick. +1 points! -
pss… those are not my tires. just randomly grabbing a google image
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One snowy semester in college (URI), I owned a 1985 Nissan 300ZX…
I was taking one of the long roads off campus to head to my house down the line (term for off-campus housing there, on campus sucked so most move after freshman year). I was the first off from the light and pulled away from traffic, towards a hard right hander into a steep downhill straight. As I entered the downhill portion, the rear end of my trusty Z31 came around and I was now facing UP the hill… I could see the headlights start to round the bend but I had no room to turn around (snow banks on either side, the car spun in a manner which I could not recreate without going skiing). I thought to myself… "self, you can DO this.."
so I threw the Z into reverse (reverse lights didn't work) and blasted down the hill… hit the brakes at the bottom and gave the wheel a turn… I threw it in first and proceeded to my house.
I still wonder what the people behind/in-front of me thought…
I miss that car… -
I actually don't have anything too good. The usual 45-mph dirt-road-at-night corner-overcooking (two wheels in a ditch, kept driving, scuffed my hubcaps but came out intact at 35), sure, but nothing too serious. Hydroplaned up 91 from Westminster to Norwich (Vermont) at a steady 70, but that wasn't really hoonage at all. I drive fast, sometimes, but I don't do truly stupid things that often.
I think at least one trail I've taken a wrong turn and gone down would probably count, though. -
A long time ago, in a land far away an engineerd-in-training and his roommates were taking advantage of a beautiful snow day. Two of his roommates were from tropical climes — India and Kuala Lampur — and didn't have gloves. So, a trip to Walmart was in order. So, engineerd and his roommates piled in his 1987 Ford Crown Vic Station Wagon and headed into the bustling metropolis of Prescott, AZ. With new gloves on hand, and a check of the $5 DVD bin complete, the intrepid crew set out to find something to eat. First, something they had all wanted to do was in order. Up on a hill overlooking the intersection of Highways 89 and 69 is a resort/casino with a sizable parking lot. Having been through dynamics and learning about moment arms and moments of inertia, the fellowship of the nerd was eager to experience their knowledge first hand. Having grown up in southern California, engineerd was eager to practice emergency maneuvers in his vehicle.
So, up the hill they head with the express intent of finding an icy parking lot. Success! The back parking lot was a sheet of ice! So, with a quick flick of the wheel and a simultaneous depressing of the accelerator, the largest station wagon Ford produced in 1987 went into a spin. It was a blast! The icy parking lot, with it's low coefficient of friction, meant the spin was essentially unending. Turn the wheel the other way, and the direction of rotation changed…albeit slowly. What fun!
Until the edge of the parking lot was quickly approaching along with a 100 ft. drop to the highway below. Warning bells are going off in the head of our hero and he knew he had to act quickly lest he and his comrades suffer an indignant death at the hands of the hoon god. Struggling to regain control, engineerd finally wrestled the car to a stop. Within 5 feet of the edge of the parking lot. To the applause of his roommates who had not realized the impending doom they faced.
So, while the hoonage started off intentional, the dramatic conclusion was nowhere near intentional.
Lunch was a little more delectable that day, and the beer that night was much more relaxing. He had stared death in the face and won.-
Huzzah. Double bonus points for the Ford Crown Victoria Station Wagon. And don't let me catch you doing it again!
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Very nice. Reminds me of my Hertz days. They had the big Crown Vics, and we spun them like tops.
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But not a Country Squire, so no wood siding? 🙁
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I know we don't COTD here, but dang. A certain site is certainly missing out on the prose of engineerd.
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My time with the laser off road taught me this. Come in hot into a corner at 45-55, let off to initiate slide, brake a little to control angle, and pedal down to recover
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I had a couple in my old Escort. The first time, I had about 1/8th of a tank of gas left, and took a cloverleaf onramp quickly enough that I starved the fuel pump and the car shut down. I panicked for a second, thinking I had killed it, until it started up again.
The second time, I was pushing it on an s-curve near my house, when the tail went out (throttle-off oversteer, I think). This was at about 4 on a weekday afternoon, so there was a fair amount of traffic to witness my idiocy. Thankfully, I kept it controlled enough to keep going. I tried again later in the wet, but understeered into a field.
I’ve also done my share of hooning a Chevette in the winter with bald tires, and got the tail on a Cobalt rental to slide. -
Ayep. I have the option to steer with the rear, as well; things are of course slightly different as you knew with the Firebird.
The car I learned to drive in was a gutless Mystique, though, so yes. -
clap, clap, clap, clap, clap, clap
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Accidental? That narrows it down.
Best might be my nearly-infamous "Tokyo Drift" line coming out of the Bus Stop at Buttonwillow back at LeMons. Needless to say, I was pleased with the swiftness with which my hands steered in the opposite lock in 2 directions within about 4 seconds. All I remember was tire noise and that I was looking at the track out each side window. -
My particular incident occurred while I was a passenger. Picture the scene if you will…me and a friend of mine were coming from another buddy of ours' house and we happened upon a local 4-wheeling trail that was a popular spot for wheelers, hunters and partiers to go because it was in the middle of about 150 acres of prime wooded Michigan state land. So he decides to dart off into this trail that he had only been on once before (in the dark). To elaborate, this trail was nothing more than a two-track in a deep woods that had an entrance off of one road, and came out to another road that was perpendicular to the other road. For most of the trail you have to maintain a slow crawl due to the many whooptie-doos and exposed tree roots in the trail. Being a dumb kid (we were both 18 at the time), my buddy decides he is going to do everything in his power to kill us. After my many attempts to try and tell him to slow down (only because I had been down the trail many times and knew how rough it was), he decides to start fish-tailing in an area where there was loose sand. Let me tell you…it was a bad idea because for one, we were doing about 35mph, and two, he can't drive for shit, and three, we were in loose sand! So as his S-10 is flailing out of control, I look at him…and he has this look on his face like he had just passed a cinder-block through his anus, and I tell him very calmly DON'T HIT THE BRAKES! DON'T HIT THE BRAKES! (for fear that we would roll it) After the third wild sideways slide, I pointed to a small clear spot on the left of the trail that was mostly tall weeds and brush, and by some stroke of luck he was able to steer into it. At that point I immediately said HIT THE BRAKES, HIT THE BRAKES, HIT THE BRAKES! We came sliding to a stop in between two trees that was barely wide enough for his truck (in fact he lost his driver's side mirror to the left tree). After a short pause to regain composure, we carefully finished out the trail, thanking Jeebus that we weren't leaving via a tow truck. But as an ironic twist, we ended up having to be towed into town anyway, because within all the calamity of our experience, the battery decided to jump from the tray and get wedged atop the alternator, and the alternator fan gobbled a hole through the side of the battery. Needless to say I never went through that trail with him ever again.
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The one I will admit to happened with my 85 Dodge Daytona. I was entering a sweeping left down hill turn at well over the posted limit. The car lost traction and I started to slide across all three lanes. The only way out with out coming into contact with guardrails was to to take the off ramp onto the highway below. I aimed for the opening, turned the wheel and hoped for the best. Turning right into the on /off ramp made the rear come out to the left so I was in full power slide again with a voice in my head saying "just look where you want to go NOT where you want to stay away from". A quick down shift to keep the power to the front tires kept everything in order until I was straight at the bottom of the ramp and had enough room to slow down to merge into traffic. I looked like a pro but knew that I had way over stepped my bounds and the Hoon Gods had looked favorably on me that day.
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I unintentionally had an old Kawasaki Bayou 300 4-wheeler tilted about like that Land Cruiser going around a corner, and managed to stick the landing. (Though you could argue that any ATV hooning is intentional.)
With a car, my best was probably New Year's Day 1996 with the combination of a '73 Mercury Cougar on $25 tires, an almost 15 year old driver on a restricted license (driving solo only OK from 6AM-8PM), trying to turn left from a two-lane side street onto a 4-lane arterial in the bustling metropolis of Huron, South Dakota, in a snow storm, having just left a classmates house after doing some work on a class project. The car got into a death wobble of progressively greater yaw till it settled down, pointed the wrong way in the midst of the only group of 5 cars bunched together on that street all that day. I didn't hit anything and no one hit me so I got my wits together, found a way to get back onto the street I had come from, and took back roads the whole way home.
Most of my hoonings since then have been intentional, or were unintentional and resulted in bonus ditch hooning.-
Oh and re: witnesses, I was the mystery hoon at high school one morning about a year later, driving the '78 F-150 4×4 I'd been upgraded to for the winter. School was in a river valley with a 1/4 mile access road that doubled as a dike, and one icy morning I biffed the corner onto the road, understeering and ending up high-centered on the river's side of the dike. The truck wasn't too badly bound up there so with my sister pushing and me using 4-low we got it off the edge, then I turned it around on the flat by the river, came up the approach on the river side of the dike, and we went on to school. Later that day I heard some of the juniors speculating on who'd been goofing around at the end of the driveway. I didn't help them out.
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The stories have been great (I don't have a lot of good ones m'self)– but– uh– I can't get the picture of the Land Cruiser Prado on two wheels with people doing barrel rolls and, uh, sitting on the side of it while it's airborne, out of my mind. What the?
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Boy, have I enjoyed reading all these great (and well written) stories of accidental hoonage. Great stuff. I'm having a blast here.
Now, I've been a hoon since before I learned the term on (REDACTED). I've got plenty of stories, but here's a good one.
I used to live in Salt Lake. For about five years I drove a cab there, on the night shift. Better money, less traffic, not as many cabs on the street to compete against for the orders. However, you have to deal with the fact that you have stranger people as fares. Everything from folks like yourself just playing it safe while barhopping to serious Street Vermin out to wreak havoc. Interesting way to make a living.
Memorial Day weekend in SLC is a lousy time to drive a cab. Town's dead. Salt Lakers like to get the hell out of town that weekend, go camping, water skiing, goofing around in the desert, and barbecuing at home. The town's dead. Only thing going on is the Golden Spike Empire Coronation. This is when the gay folks have a convention at the Salt Palace, and take the town over. The gay bars rock. If you're homophobic, get the hell out of town. Transvestites everywhere. And, they take cabs. And tip well, and are good customers.
I was sitting in Cab 24, a '84 Chevy Impala ex-cop car with 400 or so k miles on it at a cab stand downtown reading the paper when I got the call for a fare at the Salt Palace. I put the paper down, started the car and drove north on West Temple, still thinking about what I had read just then. It had rained, so the pavement was soaked on the four lane boulevard. As I passed the curb at the Salt Palace, I noticed six flamboyant transvestites frantically flagging me down. My fare. I remembered that I was at work, flipped the wheel over, punched the gas, and executed a perfect one eighty pirouette and slammed the wheels into the curb like I had choreographed the whole thing. I got applause, then they piled into the cab positively squealing with enthusiasm about my maneuver. When we got to the Trapp, the club they were going to, they had me attempt the same slide, but it didn't work. Too much weight. I still got a ten dollar tip on a three fifty fare. Later on they requested me to give them all a lift to a hotel near the airport, and overtipped me again. They wanted me to go upstairs for cocktails, but of course I was on duty. Gotta be professional.
Being a cabbie was pretty much being a professional hoon. Late at night, with or without witnesses. It was a really shitty job, at times, but man I had my moments of fun. -
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