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Brown trouser moments in your shiting career


Dave_Q

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Driving my first car, a 1959 Morris Oxford (which cost me £5 with MOT) down a residential street in an orderly manner when a rear door flew open.  Line of parked cars ahead, so did an emergency stop, first time I had done one for real.   Pedal went to the floor and car carried on regardless.  Steered it clear of parked cars and pulled up on the handbrake, then drove it slowly home.   Found that the rear brake pipe on the axle had rusted through where clipped to the axle.   Off to scrappy for another pipe, swapped it over,  bled brakes, and all good.   I seem to have been bleeding brakes ever since.

Then several cars later I had an Austin A35, which was quite expensive at £25.  It was brilliant, but there was a vibration in the steering which my mate and I being highly experienced experts could not diagnose.  You could drive through it though, so usually did, mostly flat out.   One day going into a roundabout on the A316 going into London, the steering felt a bit funny.    Pulled off the roundabout onto the dual, straightened up, and was intrigued to find that the steering wheel would go all the way round without steering the car.   Oh.

Going uphill by now, so fortunately not very fast and there wasn't much traffic, but naturally it wasn't tracked properly,  and veering across into the outside lane.  Braked, and hit central railings, loudly but not very hard. It was by the Winning Post, for those who know it.  A small crowd gathered out of nowhere, as they do.  They stood and watched me untangle the car from the railings, push it backwards across the road with no steering, and bump it over the kerb into a service road.   Did any of them come and help?  Did they fck.

Anyway, summoned my mate and we removed the steering column by the roadside, toted it home, and found the drop arm broken inside the  steering box.  It was about 1" diameter so would have taken a bit of breaking.   Presumably related to the vibration, but never completely got to the bottom of it.   Rebuilt with new part which was still available, reassembled at roadside, bent the wing and bumper back, drive off, as you were.   All without attracting the attention of the law.

I have had some lucky escapes.

  

 

 

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Quite a mild one compared to some others in here but still resulted in brown trousers..

Was once sitting in traffic when I had my Rover 45 and all of a sudden as I approached the roundabout a large plume of smoke billowed out from under the bonnet... 

Thought something was on fire, pulled over, switched engine off, got out and fled to safety

Approx 5 mins later it had settled down so braved opening the bonnet. Noticed a dribble of oil on the corner of the top end of the engine. Never really did work out if it was from the cam carrier or the head but it was leaking oil onto the exhaust manifold 

That's what happens when a Fred in a shed replaces the head gasket on a K Series and uses RTV on the cam carrier rather than the recommended anaerobic sealant....

Normally I have a very nonplussed reaction to oil burning off but I genuinely thought something had caught fire!

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An odd one, this, but genuinely terrifying.   One night I had to drive across part of rural Essex, for reasons I now cannot recall.  Proceeding as normal in the darkness on a fairly straight road, I became aware of an object in the distance.  As I drew closer I realised that it was in the opposite carriageway and moving towards me.  Closer still and I saw what it was for the first time: a hideously tall, glowing figure.  It was taller and bigger than a man would be and seemed to burn internally with a ghastly orange light.  It held a torch or some other sort of lantern and moved in an odd way, faster than someone walking should and with a sort of swaying motion.  Closer it got, its feet seeming to flash and spark as they moved.  My heart was racing and my hands were clammy on the wheel.  I couldn't drive, not properly, with an apparition of that nature advancing.  It had a huge head and no face and it seemed to be on fire, this giant, hulking thing.  I slowed right down in the realisation that we would shortly meet, switched on the main beams and turned the wheel slightly to bathe the thing in light; seeing it fully would be something, at least.  

It was a cyclist in an orange reflective jacket.  God only knows what he was doing out there at night, but there he was.  The huge head was a helmet and the torch his bicycle light.  The flashing feet were simply his feet on the pedals, which had reflective strips.  The interplay between light, reflectors and shadows had created an eerie effect.  Funny how the mind plays tricks; I really was scared upon seeing him.  Wonder what he thought about the car that stopped for no reason and blinded him with its headlights?  

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I had brake failure in my jag s type r earlier this year. 
 

Down a steep hill, at speed, I lost the pedal and it’s got an electric handbrake and it’s an automatic. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I pressed the handbrake on (if anything) so selected the lowest gear I could and pumped like hell. Big brown trouser moment.
 

I know now from the forum hive mind that the electric handbrake was an option but I really disliked the on/ off concept of it in that situation rather than being able to modulate it’s operation by hand and feel like the good old days. Properly shit me up.

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I've had a couple of my own but the most amusing one was when I was passenger in a minibus.  I used to work in a school and we'd taken the kids on a trip to Canterbury.  My manager had a grandfathered minibus licence (I don't) and is an... enthusiastic driver.  On the way back is a massive hill.  Going down the hill, she just casually mentioned that the brakes had faded somewhat whilst we were doing 65 towards a busy roundabout.

I've never been more terrified in my life.

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Had a Volvo Amazon that started suffering from from fuel starvation on a long run. Trying to get back to Devon via the A303 / A30 definitely shortened my life by a few years. That car was a cursed, loathsome piece of shit.

MGF. As a younger man I used to drive any 2 seater sports car on the limit as and when. Because I was an idiot. I once exited a  wet roundabout and ran out of grip and snap oversteered my way to the hedges left and right and left again before managing to recover it. That also shortened my life by a few years and needed replacement trousers afterwards.

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4 hours ago, Missy Charm said:

An odd one, this, but genuinely terrifying.   One night I had to drive across part of rural Essex, for reasons I now cannot recall.  Proceeding as normal in the darkness on a fairly straight road, I became aware of an object in the distance.  As I drew closer I realised that it was in the opposite carriageway and moving towards me.  Closer still and I saw what it was for the first time: a hideously tall, glowing figure.  It was taller and bigger than a man would be and seemed to burn internally with a ghastly orange light.  It held a torch or some other sort of lantern and moved in an odd way, faster than someone walking should and with a sort of swaying motion.  Closer it got, its feet seeming to flash and spark as they moved.  My heart was racing and my hands were clammy on the wheel.  I couldn't drive, not properly, with an apparition of that nature advancing.  It had a huge head and no face and it seemed to be on fire, this giant, hulking thing.  I slowed right down in the realisation that we would shortly meet, switched on the main beams and turned the wheel slightly to bathe the thing in light; seeing it fully would be something, at least.  

It was a cyclist in an orange reflective jacket.  God only knows what he was doing out there at night, but there he was.  The huge head was a helmet and the torch his bicycle light.  The flashing feet were simply his feet on the pedals, which had reflective strips.  The interplay between light, reflectors and shadows had created an eerie effect.  Funny how the mind plays tricks; I really was scared upon seeing him.  Wonder what he thought about the car that stopped for no reason and blinded him with its headlights?  

What I take from this is that you think cyclists shouldn’t be out at night fully lit up and visible.

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Similar to Wuvvums trailerings I had my Triumph 2500 trying to come through the rear window of my e28 528 after a faultless journey to a blue forum gathering.... Friend in front slammed on instead of missing the campsite entrance and the rear ratchet strap decided it had had enough thanks.... Fucked the gearbox as it slammed down onto the front of the trailer..... 

 

Brother (without a licence) smashed my Dolly Sprint up on the borders... Solid bar behind a Transit borrowed from the BiL in pitch black and sweet for 3hrs while batteries went dead 1 by 1 so no hazards etc.... BUT - all OK and home - not really - the ups n downs with all that deadweight had obviously taken its toll on the van. Drove along the back lane to take the Transit back and no brakes at the junction. Ended up on top of the roundabout... Gingered it back in reverse and left it outside the garage for the night..... 

BGT I'd had the clutch done as I was away.... Picked up, paid and pootled off. Long uphill near Gt Yarmouth and I floored it - everything let go, engine detonated and bits all over the place.... Managed to damage every single one of the 3 cars I was overtaking with shrapnel..... 

As passenger in a mates ae86 shitty 1990 winter on A1. Something fell off the lorry in front and bounced under the engine before exitimg between us and out the roof...... Car dead. I did in fact definitely leak a little something that time..... 

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Was working on my mates Fiat 127 Sport.  All pretty tight work as the bonnet opened forwards and spare tyre lived in the engine bay of the little silver dodgem.  We were working on the carb, in the road outside another mates house, cleaning the jets etc.

yes, I dropped one of the bleedin jets down the wrong hole, in the carb.  Fark.

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This didn't happen to me but a couple of mates years ago, one of whom had just passed his driving test and had acquired a pristine* Mk 5 Cortina in finest beige.
He and another pal were returning home one  sunny Saturday afternoon when the front suspension suddenly collapsed sending the car straight for a lamp post. The car hit the lamp post at just about where the NS headlight was and it tore through what turned out to be a front end constructed from chicken wire and Cataloy.
Neither of them were hurt but mate #2 in passenger seat was just beginning to regain his composure and peering through the cloud of steam when the light unit part of the street lamp decided to part company and fell straight onto what was left of the bonnet with an almighty crash.
Apparently he baled out the car and jumped head first over a hedge into someone's garden, convinced the world was about to end.

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In my Mum's Fiesta the clutch pedal would sometimes get a bit stiff & make a clicking sound.

When I was driving one day, I went round a corner in 3rd, put in the clutch to go up to 4th & heard a click as I had before, but the pedal stayed flat on the floor when I lifted my foot up!

Luckily traffic was light & I managed to coast to somewhere suitable to pull over.  Luckily the clutch pedal responded to me lifting it up by hand, & behaved until I got home. 

I get the spring & pivot a spray of WD40 & from then on it never clicked or jammed again.  I think it was binding slighting.

I was fortunate it happened where it did as there aren't places on that road to pull over!

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I have a few poo pants stories, here's a couple 

Had a hired mini digger on a job on the Isle of Dogs years ago. One Monday morning it wouldn't start, ignition light on but no go. No problem thinks I, I'll jump it off the van (Transit). Bit of a fiddle to get the leads on with a few sparks and then try the digger. Nothing at all.... No lights on the digger... hang on what's that smell? The friggin throttle cable was melting all the plastic off and was glowing red - and my mate shouts "there's a light on in the van" . Sure enough the battery light was glowing merrily away. Shit shit shit... Obviously a bad earth on the excavator but the van had me puzzled. Got the cables off, took a moment to weigh things up. Decided to ring the hire firm with a non start and let them sort it. Bricking it about the van I rang the boss with that sinking feeling in my stomach... "Oh it's been a shit starter the last few weeks, probably packed in totally" 👀

Barrelling along the A24 flat out in my first car, a diesel Series 3 Landy, ears bleeding and overdrive screaming when there's a sudden lurch and I see the passenger side front wheel merrily spin itself away up the hard shoulder. It was dusk so the resultant spark-show as the brake drum ground itself along the tarmac was quite spectacular. It had pulled itself hard to the left which fortunately was clear, I ground to a halt on the three remaining brakes and composed myself. Not easy jacking up a three wheeled Land Rover in the dark. Often wonder if someone ever found the lovingly painted steel rim clad with a nearly new BF Goodrich tyre 🤦‍♂️ 

Following a mate one beautiful sunny morning. Me in my 205 he in a rough old Range Rover. He had been having propshaft problems and so had removed the rear one. Unfortunately he didn't realize the prop held the handbrake drum in place. Into a NSL and he put his foot down, five seconds later the drum catapulted off the road like a cast iron frisbee aimed straight at my Peugeot. By some miracle it missed the car but I just caught sight of it in the mirror, hitting the kerb and shattering into pieces.

 

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13 hours ago, Spiny Norman said:

This didn't happen to me but a couple of mates years ago, one of whom had just passed his driving test and had acquired a pristine* Mk 5 Cortina in finest beige.
He and another pal were returning home one  sunny Saturday afternoon when the front suspension suddenly collapsed sending the car straight for a lamp post. The car hit the lamp post at just about where the NS headlight was and it tore through what turned out to be a front end constructed from chicken wire and Cataloy.
Neither of them were hurt but mate #2 in passenger seat was just beginning to regain his composure and peering through the cloud of steam when the light unit part of the street lamp decided to part company and fell straight onto what was left of the bonnet with an almighty crash.
Apparently he baled out the car and jumped head first over a hedge into someone's garden, convinced the world was about to end.

Reminds me of a story my dad has recounted various times.  As a boy he used to accompany his parents to the pub, as was normal for those times, and sit outside whilst they drank indoors.  One such night they ended up at a pub some distance away, which was slightly unusual, but the parents carried on drinking, perhaps beyond sanctioned licensing hours.  Eventually a decision was made to go home, at which point someone with a car, unusual in itself then and there, offered dad's family plus various others a lift home.  In they piled and off they went, the driver having had, perhaps, two lager and limes rather than one.  

All was well until the car turned into the road that led to dad's and the driver momentarily lost concentration, setting the car on a collision course with a lamppost.  The vehicle then came to an abrupt stop with bumper against lamp; both suffered fairly severe damage but the latter did not fall over.  Dad or someone else complained of a funny smell, at which the car's occupants, most probably with fags on, alighted with surprising alacrity for the lamppost was not a new fangled electric job.  The smell was the town gas that had begun to pour from the lamp after the collision had ruptured the gas pipe inside.  

Fortunately the community was tight knit working class, and very practical.  Even more fortunately the incident occurred only a hundred yards or so from the town gasworks, so resolving the matter required little more than a quick dash up the road to knock up one of the resident gas men.  With the safety of others in mind, he gathered up his tools, went out and shut off the supply to the stricken lamppost.  Other community members rallied round and helped the driver extricate his car and remove it to a safe place.  Nobody saw fit to telephone the police.  The borough council were made aware that the lamppost was damaged at a more sensible time of day, say half past nine on Monday morning, by an individual who coincidentally had not seen anything of the original incident.  

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6 hours ago, New POD said:

Someone mention lamp posts ? 

Ex GF used my Mk1 Shogun LWB all the sodding time..... 2 major brown trouser moments in that alone. 

1. She was reversing to park and according to her 'sneezed' - Shog shot back and took out the lamp post directly behind it...... It was a 4way junction corner too. 

I watched as it teetered for what seemed like ages when she told me. Finally dropping right between 2 cars as I tried to get them to stop and they ignored me.... I then dragged it with the Shog into the nearby dog poo Island 

It had been hit several times by idiots taking the corner too fast and wasn't hooked up since the last time - no one even missed it as far as I know. 

2. Fuel send/return on top of the tank rusted through without me realising. I noticed the smell of petrol as I dropped the ex and my little lad at the swimming class. Pootled home... 

Got it parked and checked... Fuel was pissing out and dropping right next to the exhaust.... If I'd taken a sharp left the whole thing would've gone up no question. I lost it thinking of my little lad sitting just above it 10mins earlier - I'll be honest, I cried....  Most scared and thankful I've ever been in my life. 

Never did tell the ex 🙄

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Too many to list, could write a book etc., so...

Coming along the A92 by Kirkcaldy in my £40 mark two Cav, which had behaved pretty well for the best part of a year, I indicated to go up the slip road, and got a massive bang when I braked. Managed to limp home with extremely weak brakes and promptly scrapped it. Didn't even want to know what had happened.

Decided to actually service the Volvo T5 seeing as it seemed to want to live. Thorough service completed, I left it to warm up, and went in the house to wash up and make a coffee. Imagine my surprise* when a neighbour yelled something, I looked out the window, and the bloody car was running very rough, and blanketing the street in thick grey smoke. Turned out it didn't really want to live after all.

Did a cam belt on a neighbour's Yugo 45, cos it's only a Fiat really, do it standing on my head etc... And got the timing 180° out. I can still hear that ungodly racket yet, and it was a cursory lesson. Never been so careless/casual since.

Couple from the trucking days, specifically from extensive driving for Pollock's: coming down the A1 southbound into Berwick in one of their unbelievably shitty MANs, when I clicked off the cruise and it cut out. At 56mph, heading for a roundabout, loaded to 44t with big reels of paper. Key off, key on, but the computer wouldn't let the engine restart til it had filled in all the requisite forms. I managed to wrestle it over the roundabout and up onto the verge opposite Morrison's just as the air ran out. Then it started just fine...

Another time coming north with 44t of glass bottles, I thought the trailer didn't feel right. Felt like a soft tyre, so I checked, and they were all fine. Swinging across the dual carriageway into Mitchelston Ind Est in Kirkcaldy, there was a big old graunch from the back of the trailer, and it felt like the brakes had locked on. Nope. The near side rearmost axle's quarter elliptic spring/trailing arm had snapped off at the eye, swiveling the whole axle so the two rear off side tyres had become very good friends.

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Narrowly avoided being killed to death in the Vectra many, many moons ago.

Driving the back road (not personally, I was a passenger since I was not long turned three... couldn't reach the bastard pedals) between Mauchline and Drongan. Weather was dreary and was a thunderstorm that night too. Lightning strikes a big tree, breaks the fucker right at the stump. We stop dead, as does the Mk5 Golf in front. It being inches from where the tree landed across the road, and us being inches from the Golf that was nearly pancaked.

Thankfully it missed both of the cars, but it was awfy fuckin close. That tree stump is still there, and I can quite possibly show you where the tree itself landed.

Had a few almost brown trouser moments in the Fabia, such as folk pulling out in front of the car (turning right, for example) when I'm doing the NSL. However, the scariest one was when I was overtaking a tractor and the EPC light came on and killed all power and in turn, the engine. Had to drop back to let the tractor by again so I could pull in and restart the car by freewheeling off the main road.

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One of my teachers mentioned he knew someone who lost control of their VW Beetle, which hit a lamp post, which ended up between the front seats!  Amazingly the driver managed to escape with hardly a scratch! 

Someone told me they knew someone who had a Triumph Herald which had the fan shed a blade at speed.  By sheer bad luck it was sent upwards & ripped a hole in the bonnet!

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The first brown trouser moment I remember was at 16 years old I was offered a mini for £40, I went to see it and the seller couldn’t  get it to start so tried bump starting it down a hill, by the bottom of the hill it had still not started. He asked me if I could drive, I said no (I had just turned 16 ) He proceeds to tie a tow rope to the mini then tie it to the back of his Cortina Ghia, he told me to sit in the driving seat of the mini and steer. He then jumped in the Cortina and shot off at a fair speed, at the junction at the top of the hill the Cortina stopped sharply and despite my foot pressing firmly on the brake pedal the Mini was not going to stop anywhere nearly as sharp as the Cortina, somehow I instinctively steered around the Cortina and came to a halt along side him with the handbrake pulled as hard as possible and my foot trying to push the brake pedal into the bulkhead.

Another memorable towing moment was a few years later when I was 19, by then I had a Cortina 2.0 Ghia S and was buying and selling cars to try and make money to buy a house, I bought a 1.7HL Princess for £30 that was not running.  A colleague offered to help me tow the Princess the 15 miles home, we tied a rope to the Princess and the back of my Cortina, I sat in the Princess and my Colleague jumped in my Cortina and took off, we must have been touching 80 at several times and my foot was mostly pressed hard on the brake pedal whilst the knuckles of my left hand were white pulling the handbrake. Around 10 miles into the terrifying journey he took off very quickly from a set of lights and snapped the rope, the last few miles were even more terrifying where the rope was now so short my only view ahead was through the Cortina windows, I was shaking for a while after we stopped and would not want to repeat the experience. I have had a few experiences of brake failure but none as terrifying as being towed.

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Not driving but really scared the crap out of me.

Working on a xantia on ramps. ( Yes a Xantia , so you can guess where this is going)

Underneath the middle of the car for some reason. Was already on suspension low when I got under.

Used height corrector adjuster under car, and raised suspension. Very weird to see the car raise above you. Then pushed it the other way to lower the car back down. I never moved but must have moved adjuster further somehow and car dropped down more than it was before. It did press into me a smidge. Nothing of any consequence and was able to wiggle free, but just for those seconds as car was dropping onto me and did not stop I thought that was the end.

Never again....

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5 hours ago, gadgetgricey said:

Not driving but really scared the crap out of me.

 

If we are moving on to garage stuff, and at the risk of going all elf'n'safety -

In another life I worked from home fixing classic cars and mostly I worked alone.

Welding under a customer's car one day,  inner sill at the rear of the floor pan, burnt through the floor and set the interior alight.  You focus on the job while welding and are not aware of anything else.   The first thing  I knew about it was when I heard the rear window breaking.   Shht.  I was out from under PDQ,  I always had a bucket of water handy when welding so got the fire out quickly, but I was lucky.   I had removed the carpets and so on first, but the rear seat had caught, and I had thought it well out of the way.   A pal of mine was not so fortunate, and lost his life in similar circumstances when the the whole lot went up.   So never weld under a car on your own.   Always have someone to fire watch.  

Again, never work when you are exhausted because you will make mistakes.  I worked long hours, as you do on your own.  One time, working under the rear wheel arch of a kit car, I had to remove the axle to spring U bolts for some reason.   I was very tired.  I thought the nuts a bit stiff but they hadn't been off for a while.   I had been doing exactly the same job in a scrapyard earlier that day with rusty threads, and I put the stiffness down to rust and carried on.   Got three nuts off, then the last one came off with a bang and the car fell on me, and trapped my head between the chassis and the brake drum.   I was using axle stands but I was tired and not thinking straight, and I hadn't supported the car properly.   The nuts were stiff because they were still under load.

Nobody else around, of course.  I really thought it was all over, what a waste, and started to drift away which I think is a result of adrenalin.   Then I thought, hang on a minute.  My arms were still free, I was kneeling beside the car, and I got my arms under the chassis and lifted it up - fortunately it was a light car - so the axle dropped away and I got out.   I ran to the house and sat and screamed for a bit.   Then I sat quietly for a bit.  Then I phoned for help.  In the event I was only badly bruised, and lifting the car probably started my back problems, but it could easily have been a lot worse.

Don't think it can't happen to you because you are such a hell of a clever chap.  It can.

 

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On 7/8/2022 at 4:24 PM, HMC said:

I had brake failure in my jag s type r earlier this year. 
 

Down a steep hill, at speed, I lost the pedal and it’s got an electric handbrake and it’s an automatic. I wasn’t sure what would happen if I pressed the handbrake on (if anything) so selected the lowest gear I could and pumped like hell. Big brown trouser moment.
 

I know now from the forum hive mind that the electric handbrake was an option but I really disliked the on/ off concept of it in that situation rather than being able to modulate it’s operation by hand and feel like the good old days. Properly shit me up.

Worth checking for the exact car, but usually an electronic handbrake will function as an emergency brake if you press/pull and hold the switch to engage it, until the car comes to a stop. Afaik they (some at least) are intelligent enough to determine when and how much force to engage to safely bring the car to a stop

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59 minutes ago, RoverFolkUs said:

Worth checking for the exact car, but usually an electronic handbrake will function as an emergency brake if you press/pull and hold the switch to engage it, until the car comes to a stop. Afaik they (some at least) are intelligent enough to determine when and how much force to engage to safely bring the car to a stop

funny that you mention this as i just read about it in the manuel for my 10 gen civic- pull and hold it & vsa will apply all 4 brakes until stopped then apply handbrake

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1 hour ago, Noel Tidybeard said:

funny that you mention this as i just read about it in the manuel for my 10 gen civic- pull and hold it & vsa will apply all 4 brakes until stopped then apply handbrake

It's a good feature, on some cars I think it'll even introduce or perhaps simulate ABS into the operation if necessary. But I'm not sure if that applies to all cars with an EPB

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A few years back I bought a Citroen XM for spares. It was running but had no brakes at all, not even the parking brake. The inlaws drive where it was getting stored was at the top of a hill in a cul de sac and due to space constraints I had to unload the car from the trailer rat the bottom of the hill. No problem I thought, I'll drive the XM off the trailer and up the hill to the driveway. Obviously I stalled it as I was pulling onto the driveway and rolled off backwards down the hill. I just managed to miss some parked cars as I careered into oblivion but as I approached the road at the bottom of the hill I could see busy traffic passing in both directions. By sheer blind luck I missed  the other vehicles and came to rest on a grass verge. After my heartrate had returned to normal I reconnected the slave battery , fired the old XM up and finally powered it up the hill onto the drive.  It was at that point that I thought that my "taking the piss" lives had been expended and I decided not to take any more chances in the future!

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