Like any teenage boy the car keys represented independence, freedom and of course the license to parrrtayyy. But like many a teenage boy, one must lie through ones teeth to actually procure the car keys without the parents calling the police stating that
1. their son is mysteriously missing and
2. their car has been stolen.
So we would mow the lawns, vacuum the floor etc etc, even try our business negotiation skills on our parents to get them into a sucker deal.
My method was very innocently evil genius. "Can I borrow the keys, Matt and I need to go to Bible study" Of course you know, bible study doesn't actually mean bible study. Well we did in fact go to the class, and I remember absolutely nothing from it, but I do remember the fun we had AFTER it with our parents automobiles.
The area in which we lived had a strong thoroughbred racing scene, and as such the green grassy side of the road was quite wide and flat, useful for horse owners to exercise their horses, also incredibly useful for teenage boys to do something they probably shouldn't be doing. Ok, I'll tell you what we did. We'd drive along at around 60k, drive off the road onto the green grassy side of the road and push in the clutch, throw on the handbrake and turn the steering wheel sharply.
Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, and we'd count how many times we could get the car to spin in a circle. Of course if Mum or Dad found out we were doing this Robinson Crusoe would be able to hear our cries of pain. Doing this of course made the car very very muddy, a clear sign we weren't simply going to Bible study. So when I'd get home at 1am I'd be out in the garage QUIETLY cleaning the car, removing all evidence of our nightly adventures.
Of course doing this came with some inherent risks, like...wrecking the car. Fortunately this never happened, but when a car is sliding...you don't have much control over it, so one day, the car is sliding....and sliding towards the hedge. The hedge is getting closer, the car is still sliding and my mate in the passenger seat (which of course was the side that would hit the hedge first) was really starting to tense up and go, umm,....shiiiiittttttt. My foot is firmly on the brake and turning the wheel the other way...but of course when you're sliding, that doesn't do shit. The car continues to slide and stops just as it touches the hedge. My mate lets out a sigh of relief and I act as if I'd planned the whole thing and was in complete control the whole time. >.>
So one night Bugs and myself are driving home, (I'm driving) and of course we're planing on pulling a few handbrakes on the way home as there is a perfect place to do it. Moreover it had been raining so everything is really nice and slippery, perfect for spinning the car, haha. So feeling like we're going for the record I exit the road at a higher than normal speed.
As I reach the spot where we think it's good I start to drift off the road. For some reason, I decide that a driveway will give us a little bit more road and speed to enter the 'pull the handbrake zone' since you don't want to pull the handbrake where there is a chance of spinning onto the road as that extra traction could be bad...quite bad (flip anyone).
As we are crossing the rather wide driveway and reach the end, Bug and myself suddenly (and wayyy to late by the way) realize something. We both look at each other and with wide eyes start screaming 'Shiiiiittttttt'
Under any driveway there is a drain, quite deep which leaves a ditch on either side of the driveway, so in effect this driveway is more like a low level bridge...and we're driving off it at gulp...too fast anyway.
Shittttttttt.
I had visions of the dukes of hazard and the general lee, dundundun da da dun dun dun dun. (or however that dang horn sound goes like)
Mummy we're flying!
Shiiiiittttttttt.
and then we landed, in the large ditch and it had been raining so there was quite a bit of water in it. SPLASH. Water flew up the side of the car (I remember the water flying up past my window). The car wheels incredibly stayed on and more amazingly the front axle didn't brake. We basically bounce out of the ditch and the first instinctive thing I do is to...?
Slam in the clutch, crank the handbrake and spin the steering wheel!
A jump AND a spin, weeeehaaaaaaa.
After we stopped spinning (we were still in too much shock/surprise to even bother counting how many times we spun) we sat there for 0.5sec before screaming and bellowing 'THAT WAS SOO COOOL'
Yep, I had a lot of cleaning to do that night.
The only other crazy thing in the car was driving off road thinking I'd beat my mates on the dirt road. Thing about off road is that it's not flat, so we were suddenly airborne and slammed the car into a small bank, sending dirt flying everywhere and giving my back seat passengers a mild form of whiplash. After grinding to a halt we all got out to survey the damage and after a professional teenage appraisal we all agreed everything was ok, until Dawson pointed out 'umm, where's the license plate?" Later on the road, there was a grinding sound then a crash and a bump as the stone guard fell off. We figured our parents never look under the car anyway so they wouldn't know it was missing anyway. We were right. :D
I forget how we reattached the license plate...
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