Behind/Under the Wheel
It seems I am now taking requests. “Tell me a story Uncle Narf.” Those were not the actual words but I tend to change what people say into something that makes my brain smile. My buddy has suggested that I do a story about driving/wrecking automobiles. I hope you’re all comfortable. This one could take awhile. I have a history of crashing things. I am going to stick to the biggies because if I took the time to catalog all the fender benders I have been in, we would never finish.
The first major wreck that I recall was when I was in my very early teens. I grew up on a dirt road 8 miles from a small town. (I guess I didn’t actually grow up ON the road but more next to it in a house except when I was outside playing or working.) At any rate one of the neighbors who was about my age owned a 4-wheeler. His little brother owned an identical one. His little brother was not around so my buddy and I decided to do a little racing. Before we got a mile from the house I was already acting like a complete moron. I was going as fast as the little motorbike would go and an unfortunate act of nature decided to put a stop to my nonsense. An innocuous little bunch of dirt/rock/whatever found its way under my wheel and before too long I was hurtling through the air. My first foray into the art of flying was accomplished with the help of a rather sturdy tree. Once the bike had come to an abrupt stop the Narf continued on as bodies in motion tend to do.(Yeah Science!!) Luckily there were plenty of other trees and branches to slow me down or I may have achieved escape velocity. Wouldn’t it be awesome to be an astronaut? I lost consciousness with the help of that same tree and regained my senses moments after my graceless landing. If memory serves I traveled at least 30 feet through the air. Wheeeee!! The bike was totaled and I was nearly killed. Luckily it was only the left side of my body that went splat against the tree and not my face. It has been estimated that I was going about 40 miles per hour at the time and it’s a miracle that I didn’t die or even break any bones. I do now know exactly how meat feels once it has been beaten to smithereens by a tenderizer.
Fast forward several years and you will find the Narfster in the back of a small sedan on his way to adventure. (adventure = magic the gathering tournament) My buddy Evil Barratt was driving and Annoying Don was riding shotgun. We had more than one Don in our circle of miscreants so they needed descriptive titles. I assure you, Annoying Don was one of the more tame ones. Our hero (hero = me) (I get to be the hero because I am writing the story) (hero like the “awesome lead character instead of the sammich) Anyway, our hero was sitting in the back seat sorting cards for what was meant to be the greatest deck of all time. Alas we will never know if it would have been successful at the tournament because we never made it. The three of us thought it would be funny to pass the car of friends we were following to show them that driving slow was not to be tolerated. Little did we know that they were going slow so as not to miss the exit that we blew right on by. We got really far before we realized that we had missed the exit. The sign indicating we were about to enter another state was a pretty big clue. I don’t know if Evil Barratt(I may tell you how he got that name someday)(I may even sing the Evil Barratt Song, yes there is a song.) decided to turn the car around on the spot or if all the ice and snow on the expressway made the decision for him. (Michigan in winter is one of the most fun times to drive if you have a strong heart and a firm bladder) Even though we were still traveling with traffic we were no longer facing the same direction as the cars we shared the highway with. This was rather disconcerting and steps were taken to remedy the situation. Those steps included flipping the car over at least once and depositing it in a huge squishy snow bank at the bottom of the ravine. None of us was injured in any way and I will have you know that I did not drop a single card. We never did make it to the event. We holed up in a hotel for the night while Barratt’s nerves untangled. I realize that this particular accident was not my fault but I wanted to include it because it adds credibility to the prophetic assertion I will be making at the end of this series. Hold on tight, there are a couple more kabooms to go.
The next wreck was not actually a wreck but there was some damage and some people almost died. Once upon a time I was in the United States Army. I was deployed to South Korea and for one year I got to experience the pure joy of an insane driving culture. I fit right in. I was told that the law of the road there was “If you can get 10% of your bumper into the other lane you have the right of way”. I assure you that I put this to the test on many occasions. I drove a variety of military vehicles while there but two in particular stand out. The Humvee and SPLL. Most of you probably already know what a Humvee is but I am dropping an unclassified picture of the SPLL in here so you can get an appreciation of the sheer size/mass of the monster that I tried to roll end for end. I’m not going to spend much time talking about the Humvee because I only spent a short period of time tooling around country in it. I drove a Lieutenant(platoon leader) from here to there for about a month or so until he fired me because even though he was a combat veteran and former infantry sergeant it was my driving that finally took him to the edge of his fear. He found himself a nice sedate(boring) driver and sent me back to the SPLLs. In a nutshell, a SPLL is a huge tracked vehicle.(like a tank but with a huge box of missiles/rockets on top instead of a turret) Once upon a time PFC Albin(aka Narfboy) was driving along without a care in the world. The other members of the crew were doing what they do best, hanging on for dear life when we realized it was time to head to the platoon campsite for an evening of rest after many days of fire missions. Either the LT or the PltSgt had picked a section of dry gravely riverbed for our bivouac and we headed that way with all due haste. I begged my track commander to let me drive over the side of the riverbank in order to save us the time it would take to drive about half a mile down to the fjord. He reluctantly agreed.(probably had even less sleep than I did and wasn’t thinking clearly) As the almost 30 tons of tracked monstrosity started to teeter-totter on the rocky side of the 8 or so foot tall river bank the TC in a momentary epiphany must have realized what a horrible mistake we were making. Of course the only thing to do at this point would be to make the situation worse. He quickly make the wrong choice and shouted STOP into the mic. (We all wore helmets with microphones and speakers because you can’t imagine how much noise one of these crazy things makes and you would never hear the guy hanging out the top looking for monsters and street signs all the way in the driver’s seat. As soon as I hit the brakes we slid just enough to teeter more than we tottered. The vehicle landed on its nose and started to complete the journey to its top. Did I mention that there is someone hanging out the top of this automobile? Rather than go splutch, he climbed on in the hatch with a great deal of fervor. It was right about this time that I remembered that the tracks extend all the way to both the front and rear of my contraption and since driving on the bottom of the track was no longer an option I figured driving on the front was worth a shot. I stomped on the gas.(At this point I always close my eyes and imagine a King Kong sized Michael Jackson moonwalking across the riverbed. I think if you try it you will be both startled and amused at the same time) Luckily through the power and majesty of science, the front of the vehicle got ahead of the back of the vehicle and the bottom of the vehicle quickly made contact with the ground instead of the top. To this very day my chiropractor is grateful for the laws of physics that made me one of his regulars.
And last but certainly not least we come to the Ford Escort Wagon. While not the most glamorous vehicle ever to roll off the line in good old D-Town it is certainly one of the more fun to lose control of. I was taking my little brother back to college after our Mom's 50th birthday celebration. He was attending LSSU in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and after dropping him off, I had a long journey back to the middle part of the state for work the next morning. Naturally I was speeding. It turns out that speeding through a blizzard is a bad idea. I maintain that I was barely exceeding the speed limit but my brother insists that doing that in a couple inches of snow on Interstate 75 is a bad idea. We disagree on this point to this very day. Somewhere in the Northern parts of the Lower Peninsula I started to fishtail. I didn’t think much of it. I adjusted my cigarette and at the same time my grip on the wheel. I gently compensated for the leftish slide only to be thwarted by a sudden rightish slide. At this point I saw no need to slacken my speed since it would only be a moment before I regained a straitish path. At some point I decided that the straitish path was never going to materialize as a result of my machinations so I handed the matter off to the whiles of fate. As I sat back, took my hands off the wheel and puffed nonchalantly on my cig, my brothers eyes became very big. I figured it was only a matter of time before mother nature found a nice comfy ditch for us to hang out in and as far as I was concerned her hands were more capable than mine so why get all worked up about it. Besides, my brother’s horrified expression clearly showed that he was getting nervous enough for the both of us. It wasn’t long before we were going more backwards/sideways/flipity than we originally anticipated and eventually we were deposited in the ditch without too much discomfort. My brother complained of a sore neck and a bump as our heads collided but I didn’t feel at all put out. I did of course lose my cigarette when it was knocked away by all the snow pouring into my car as it slid on its side. I also found several books strewn about the landscape and another book halfway out of the closed backseat door. It turns out that when a car starts twisting a warping from the stresses of adventure things start to get a little silly. Eventually a tow truck pulled us out of the ditch. We limped the rest of the way to the University and the next day I limped home. The car turned out to be ok until it died of engine trouble some time later that year.
So I guess that pretty much wraps up my near death vehicle stories. What I really like to stress to people is that no one has ever died as a result of my driving. With the exception of the 4-Wheeler I have walked away from each of these events without even a scratch on my delightful person. It is for this reason that I suspect I will not die in a moving vehicle. The Good Lord has had plenty of opportunity, but it seems he has other plans for my adventuresome carcass.
May 30, 2011 Update:
So I was driving home from work on the morning of Memorial day when KABOOM!
Someone ran a red light and plowed into the side of my car. As usual I have not even a scratch or a bruise on my person. The other guy was fine too. Both cars were pretty messed up though. I am actually writing this note almost 2 weeks after the fact and my car is still in the collision shop. This one is gonna be pricey.
Someone ran a red light and plowed into the side of my car. As usual I have not even a scratch or a bruise on my person. The other guy was fine too. Both cars were pretty messed up though. I am actually writing this note almost 2 weeks after the fact and my car is still in the collision shop. This one is gonna be pricey.