Hooniverse Asks- What was Your Most Impressive Accidental Car Hoon?
They would preface this stunt with "Here, hold my beer" if their religious didn't forbid drinking.
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]
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All my hooning was intentional….
no follow up questions please
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.
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.
I think the middle east is the only place where Toyotas are considered exciting. Apart from maybe Afghanistan that is.
The usual for MI I guess…a bit too enthusiastic driving (when I was still a HS retard)….snow….black ice…..slide……spin (360)….keep going…end of story.
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.
I was taking a gravel road near my house that i was very familiar with. I was in an Escort (obviously). There was a gentle curve to the left that I was used to and was feeling very hoonish so i took the curve at about 40 when most people would be going slower than 30. I gave the steering wheel a quick jerk to break the rear end free and quickly realized that just counter steering would not get the car back under control. Now realize that when your going 40 and the car is sliding sideways, the last thing you want to do hit the gas. But i did just that and got the front end to speed up and the rear end fell back in line.
It might not seem like much, but it all happened so fast and was about 5 levels above my experience level. It gave me a good enough scare that my legs were shaking the rest of the evening.
scary moment on the 5 freeway north. lets just leave it at my car is still intact, though my tires came out like this:
<img src="http://www.broncomarc.com/temppics/tire1.jpg">
This is why threshold braking is your friend. O.o Also you may want to get your camber adjusted.
I want to hear this story! Don't worry, your wife isn't reading this (is she?!?). That is some crazy flatspotting.
I was in highschool at the time, a couple of years back, in my trusty Cherokee with a buddy. Being a showboat, I liked to spin those 31's at every available chance. Cars driving behind me finally cleared, so I put in in Reverse, hit the gas a little hard. This Jeep was a 91 and took a little time to set into gear when put in reverse, so launches were… unexpected at times. This particular time I revved a bit high and got nothing, so I did the next logical thing and revved higher. The gear grabbed and I shot back at 10, cut the wheel performed a half J-turn into the 3 open parking spots behind me (a gen III supra on one side and an 80's diesel benz on the other) Dropped into Drive, launched around, drifted the 180 (to make it seem like I did that on purpose) around the parking lot came back around to the exit and drifted onto the street. I saw applause and middle fingers all across the parking lot, and my passenger looked at me and said, "Your an asshole". Keeping up the prose it was purposeful, I yelled, "Thats HOW I DO!".
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Diagram for you:
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Damn comment length limit.
And I can't fix that top one… DAMNIT.
Yes, I am at work, why would you ask?
Does an accidental hoon in the middle of an intentional hoon count?
Back in 1990 I was having some fun handily thrashing a 1990 Trans Am in my 1989 LX 5.0 notchback on Hwy 403 in Mississauga, Ontario. Unfortunately that particular stretch of highway bends quite suddenly from east to north. I was a little busy watching the T/A recede in my rear view mirror and sort of forgot that objects are really friggin closer than they appear when you're going 145mph+.
Long story short, corner coming, melted crappy Ford brakes, entered corner in ill-handling car at 125mph and promptly went into a very long and graceful four-wheel drift. Happily it was late at night, so as I went across multiple lanes from shoulder on left to shoulder on right, I didn't collect anyone else. Also, I didn't even soil myself. Win, win.
"Does an accidental hoon in the middle of an intentional hoon count? "
As far as I am concerned, NO. I call it an intentional hoon gone wrong.
Fair enough.
As a young hoon, I was not yet savvy to the differences in traction between a heavy rain and a light drizzle. There was a left turn on my way to work where I would intentionally fishtail my [dad's] truck any time that the road was slick. I had gotten pretty good at it. Well, consistent, anyway.
And then one morning, the rain had just started, and the road had a nice sheen to it as I approached my corner. The light was green as I approached, so I continued my turn just as I always had, and in second gear let out the clutch, giving it what I thought was just enough gas to get the back to slide out a bit. I was wrong.
The spin was less of a pirouette, and more of a four wheel drift, as I came around to be facing exactly the opposite direction that I had intended. 270 degrees instead of 90.
That was not the part that impressed me. I'd done that much before. But, as ashamed as I am to admit this, there were several cars waiting at the light for the cross street when this transpired. And as my truck came to rest, it was (what seemed at the time) mere inches from the rear bumper of the lead car waiting in the left turn lane. And, fortunately, the second car in line had left enough room that I was able slide just in front of him, as well. The truck came to rest nestled neatly between two cars in the left turn lane. I could feel the icy glare of the man waiting to go straight as I caught my breath. I then turned on my signal, and made a left, taking me (what would have been)straight on the road that I had originally turned from, and I took the next left, instead, without incident.
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.
Too many to list but a memorable one.
I was 16 and had the Dragon Wagon, a Fairmont with a 302cid. I was out road tripping with a friend and we had a few hotties in the back seat. I was really hoping that the cruising would end up with the rear deck open and feet hanging out. As we were cresting a hill and going into a down hill right hander at much higher speed then the road or the car was designed the left rear blew out.
I am pretty sure I did a 540 spin, maybe more, who knows. Everything from the explosion until the car stopped pointed uphill was a blur. My passenger blew chunks out the window, his tummy was upset. The girls in the back were screaming bloody murder and all I said was "Cool". They thought I had done it deliberate. I limped the car back to the shop since I had no spare. Once there I found a tire, stuck it on a spare rim and out the door we went.
The next morning my Dad jumped my ass hard. Wanting to know what I did. I was surprised he had found out so quickly but I guess my putting the lugs on backwards was a giveaway. Hey, easy mistake to make when a nice pair of taters are looking you in the eye asking if I needed any help.
Oh ya, good night in deed.
Cool. +1 points for having the hotties in the back.
Righteous. Especially since your buddy puked and the hotties stayed around.
I learned to drive in cars with all-independent suspensions– specifically, an E28 BMW 528e and a W124 Mercedes 300TE– so I always assumed bumpsteer was an academic thing that suspension designers worried about so that drivers wouldn't have to. The 300TE, especially, was never upset by mid-corner bumps, even if I had the old beast heeled over on its side with the tires begging for mercy. Then I got a Sunbeam Alpine. The Alpine's live rear axle is attached to the car by two semi-elliptic leaf springs and two lever shocks with worn-out rubber bushings– besides the springs, there's no provision for lateral location of the wheels. For a while, I did most of my driving on fairly smooth roads, so it didn't bother me. I came to assume that the car would be pretty much neutral through any corner, and that the skinny tires would give me plenty of warning before letting go.
Then, on the 2008 California Melee (my first rally) I was pushing pretty hard to keep up with an Alfa and keep from having to pull over and let an MG Midget by. As I guided the car through a right-hand corner, I hit a bump with the left side of the car. The front suspension compressed, increasing toe-in and pulling the front of the car towards the inside of the corner; the rear axle relinquished its hold on the asphalt, pushing the rear end towards the outside of the corner. Suddenly, my "neutral" car was in a slide that would make a dirt-track racer proud. I had the presence of mind to steer into the skid, rather than lifting off the throttle, and I slid the car perfectly through the corner. But somehow, feeling that I was about to wrap my car around a tree and die took the fun out of driving fast, so I stopped chasing the Alfa and waved the Midget by. But the Midget's driver found me at the lunch stop, and patted me on the back– "man, you can really drive that thing!"
I didn't feel like I could disappoint him by telling the truth, so I just smiled.
Going through the snow sheds by Rogers Pass in BC. The snow outside the sheds was melting , but freezing on the road inside the snow sheds. As I entered the last shed in my 18 wheeler i realized i was gaining much too fast on the truck in front. I quickly jammed on the brakes which sent my truck and trailer heading towards the snow shed (tunnel) wall. While my brain accepted the fact that I would probably be on the 6 o'clock news; my feet acted and hit the hammer (sped up) causing my rig to drift the opposite direction. As I exited the shed my tractor got some traction while the acceleration brought the trailer inline. BTW with a separate hand brake for the trailer, at the right speed an empty semi is extremely easy to drift….
When I was in high school, my dad took me to a snowy parking lot in his Subaru to learn car control in the snow. After hooning around for half an hour or so, he told me to "go out there and back to the main road." "Out" was in fact not an exit, but rather a curb covered with snow. The Subie dutifully did what it was told and ramped up and over the median.
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.
Best car-related? Many to choose from, but one I still remember 24 years later is dialing in serious opposite lock to save an off-throttle slide mid S-bend at speed on a teenaged test drive of a Supra Turbo. The salesperson in the passenger seat was not amused. God is indeed watching out for me.
Best non-car related? It involves a trampoline, pre safety regs (exposed springs and no catch fences), myself, a Jet Li flying side kick imitation, and ends with me landing cat-like with the balls of my feet on the trampoline frame and my hands on the tramp platform. Had I not landed exactly as I did, I would have broken something for sure — bones, skin, gonads, all of the above.
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.
I was driving back home from an autocross, doing about 70 or so on the highway. I was coming up on an on-ramp, and could see that there was a car coming down it, and it would be next to me when he need ed to merge. Being the courteous hoon that I am, I flicked on the blinker to move out of the right lane for him, check my mirros, and then noticed that the car was in fact a classic Porsche. I admired the car for a second or two, then began to move over — right into a Ford Tempo that had somehow flown up beside me in the few seconds since my mirror check.
It might be worth noting at this point that I hadn't adjusted the rear shocks back down before leaving the autocross, so the CRX, which as a short-wheelbase car is rather twitchy to begin with, was particularly tail happy. So it didn't react very well when instinct kicked in and I jerked the wheel back to the right. At this point I was going partly sideways at seventy miles an hour, sandwiched between a crap-heap Ford and one of the prettiest Porsches I've ever seen, with the nose of the car pointed at the Porsche and four big fat summer tires about to hook back up Suffice to say I did NOT want the car to keep pointing that way. I'm not entirely sure how I did it, but I think I went opposite-lock, applied the gas, and then caught the tail end coming back around . Then I slowed down considerably, let the nice man and his Porsche in, and sat quite stubbornly in the right lane for the rest of the trip home, where I promptly set the rear shocks to full soft.
Suffice to say I make sure I do that before leaving events now.
Was the Tempo driver wearing a bomb on his chest?
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.
"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
Driving up SR 25 from BG to Toledo at night we see a reflection in the distance. As the Jeep Cherokee closes on said reflection at 80mph we realize it as a pair of eyes. I let off the throttle to slow a bit, still closing on what I can now make out as a dog. Stubborn against the threat of my horn and headlights I tug the wheel left and brake hard (big mistake). This drastic maneuver immediately send the Jeep sideways at 70mph and is sliding on two wheels. I counter steer, release the brake and the Jeep settles back beneath me. I pull off to the shoulder to calm my nerves.
Worst game of chicken I have ever played.
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.
It was the late seventies, I was eighteen and my parents had a cabin at a place called Deka Lake in the British Columbia interior. The shortest route at the time was a twisting gravel logging road cut into the side of a mountain, half as wide again as the car I was in. That car was 1969 Olds Delmont, a big four door sled whose only redeeming feature was that motive power was provided by a 455 Rocket. I'm heading back to Calgary on the logging road, my girlfriend beside me and my younger brother in the back, cooking it up a hill at about 60. Reaching the crest I came to the sudden realization I was about twelve feet from airborne, and despite the name, I was sure that Rocket wouldn't fly. The road had taken a hairpin to the left and before me, two hundred feet down, was a beautiful pine filled valley.
Christ on a pogo stick, this was no time for collecting pine cones! As I stood on the brake with both feet, I cranked that wheel hard to port. The car spun like a top, the front end bouncing of the inside of the hill, the back quarter panel bending the sign indicating 'hairpin bend' for traffic going the other way, and came to a rest, engine running, in the middle of the road. 'Wow', said my brother. 'Fuck me' said I. My girlfriend was, for once, at a loss for words.
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!
Very nice. Reminds me of my Hertz days. They had the big Crown Vics, and we spun them like tops.
But not a Country Squire, so no wood siding?
I know we don't COTD here, but dang. A certain site is certainly missing out on the prose of engineerd.
You mean like that one time my positrac decided to work while entering a fast-two-lane road, and the innocent looking puddle had caused 8 feet of truck bed in the opposite lane while my front wheels were tracking in the center of the right lane?
Yeh, see… That's interesting.
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
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
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.
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.
Back in high school, my then-girlfriend and I were each driving home from the boat launch, and we had a bit of a race going. Her '99 4Runner and my '96 Camry were neck and neck pulling about 60 down W Esplanade, and when the road goes into an S-curve right then left, I slowed to about 55 and managed to hit the curb with my left rear tire. Knocked the tail loose, car spun 180º clockwise, and as instinct dictated I cut the wheel hard left and mashed the throttle ("when in doubt, power out"). Car spun 180º counterclockwise, and (after a few seconds of mental gathering) I went on my way.
In late 2004, it was within a week of buying a new '05 Impreza (my first non-POS car after college). I figured I would drive through a snowbank in a parking lot at the end of my parents' block. The snowbank was frozen solid, so I basically ramped it at low-speed. The only damage was to the plastic "skid plate" under the front bumper that appeared to have scraped pavement on the landing.
….and my brother and one of his dopey friends watched.
Awesome.
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.
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?
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.
I was a lot boy for a large Toyota dealer back in 1981. One day, I was directed to drive a new Toyota Tercel to another dealer on a dealer trade. This Tercel was really plain jane, with those skinny 13" all season radials. I decided to take Sierra Highway to Palmdale (CA) where the dealer was located. Sierra Hwy is very picturesque and plenty twisty. Since I'd never see this car again, I decided to really whip it thru the turns and pass as many cars as I could along the way.
On one twisty stretch, the right side tires dropped off the road and into the dirt shoulder. In my eternal idiocy, I yanked the steering wheel back to the left, which put the car into a fishtail….. at about 50 mph. The car slid thru the dirt on the right hand shoulder, did a 180, spun completely across all lanes of traffic, and ended up stopped in the opposite shoulder, facing the opposite direction of travel. My stupid stunt kicked up a huge dust cloud and left lurid skid marks across the highway. I got out, acted all nonchalant, and proceeded to inspect the car. No damage except it was plenty dirty. The only shame was all the people I had passed on the road drove right past me, giving me that, "what a dumbass" look, something I richly deserved.
I took it easier for the rest of the trip, delivered the car, picked up whatever I was driving back (I think it was a Starlet), and took Hwy. 14 back to the dealer.
Does anyone see my submission here? I don't and know I submitted mine…
Ah, now I see the original and now this one…Just had to log into IntenseDebate…
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