I wasn't driving...but I rode in a friend's car going 130mph between Toledo and Cleveland. Dodge Charger 440. The fastest I have driven was 115mph, Telegraph Road between Toledo and Monroe, MI.
Four of us were on our way to a karate tournament and were running late. I was only nervous about him getting pulled over; we would have been late. I got nervous at 115mph because it was a two lane highway. I could have gotten it to 125, but I backed off. Stupid teenager.
This was a road that I periodically drive. There is a very "small-lengthed" bridge (takes about four seconds to traverse) which, directly after it, the road veers to the left at a severe 90 degree angle. Thus, the sign before the bridge requires drivers to slow to 25mph. It was night, I let myself get distracted and I also thought I was on another part of the road, and, too late, I realized I was going 65 right at the bridge. I knew I'd not make the left turn and, instead of trying to "make" the left turn, I chose to drive straight -- which goes right off the road into the air - - and I flew off the road, straight out into the air, dropped about 30 feet and landed in a corn field.
This was a road that I periodically drive. There is a very "small-lengthed" bridge (takes about four seconds to traverse) which, directly after it, the road veers to the left at a severe 90 degree angle. Thus, the sign before the bridge requires drivers to slow to 25mph. It was night, I let myself get distracted and I also thought I was on another part of the road, and, too late, I realized I was going 65 right at the bridge. I knew I'd not make the left turn and, instead of trying to "make" the left turn, I chose to drive straight -- which goes right off the road into the air - - and I flew off the road, straight out into the air, dropped about 30 feet and landed in a corn field.
Yes, my first brand new car. A 1968 Plymouth Roadrunner. I had it going 135 mph and still climbing. It was about then my passenger was getting a bit nervous, so I backed off. To this day, I often wonder just how fast that car would go. Race-wise, at that time, it was the fastest muscle car in my area. Those were the days! :) :)
Yeah, I guess it's all about adrenaline rush and the endorphins. I wonder if it's mostly the speed/fast driving/danger or the potential money and fame and all of that?
Once - I had no idea what the car was capable of. I was selling security systems with a team of mostly younger people. The relative youth of most of the workforce was the reason why the company had only invested in a 30yo Charger to get us around - an old 6-cyl "three on the tree", underpowered for its weight and on its last legs. The company car was off the road for repairs and the team needed to go to Eudunda, about two hours from Adelaide. The boss handed me HIS keys with an admonition to take care of his "baby" - a V8 HSV Commodore with legendary race car driver Peter Brock's signature on the glove compartment. Coming out of Eudunda on the way home, the speed limit changed from 60 to 110 kmh (37 to 70 mph, roughly). I'd never driven a race car before (and haven't since), I planted my foot on the gas as heavily as I usually did in the old banger - luckily on a straight stretch of road. When I managed to get my head off the headrest, the vehicle was cranking 230 kmh (>140mph) and still accelerating. I got off the gas pedal in a hurry, coasted down to the speed limit and drove at that more sedate speed home. Fastest I've ever driven intentionally was 180kmh (112mph), special circumstances. It was just before mobile coverage became almost universal, I was on the freeway between Murray Bridge and Callington - and my daughter went into a full scale asthma attack, she couldn't breathe. No way to call an ambulance and I couldn't have told them with any accuracy where I was anyway, so I floored it to the Mount Barker hospital. Had a police patrol intercepted me, they'd have provided an escort. She survived.
Yeah, I've accidentally gone faster than intended a few times when driving a couple of my son's previous cars. Thankfully, he seems to have outgrown that fast car stage! (fingers crossed!).
Your story about your daughter brings me back to a few of those sort of speedy trips. Cops and speed limits be damned - you've got to get somewhere fast. Someone is dying sort of speeding... not good memories at all.
I'm not sure I should tell this story. I advise all young people reading this to avert your eyes now.
As a teenager, two girlfriends and I were just hanging out on their front stoop. Two guys in a car pulled up to the curb and asked if we'd like to take a ride. It was the sixties, we said sure. The three of us climbed into the back seat (remember no seat belts?). As the driver took off, we discussed where exactly we would go, as the front seat passenger passed out cans of beer. Although none of us liked beer, my friend whispered that the cans we held the guys would not be drinking, so we each accepted them. We never decided on a destination. The driver crossed the river, then started up the hill heading out of town. He said he wanted to show us how fast the car would go. As we leaned over the front seat to see the odometer, it climbed to about 115-120 mph. We were horrified. One of my friends (I don't remember which) pretended to be car sick and demanded to be taken back home. Meanwhile, the friend who suggested we take the beers, had slowly been pouring hers out on the floor to be sure no one would be drinking it. These guys got us home safely. How, I don't know, it's a blur. We never did that again.
It's just short of a miracle that any of us survive our stupid teen years, isn't it? I
I grew up in a small town in a rural area. Riding around in someone's car was pretty much all there was to do, unless someone's parents were out of town! :)
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