What makes you grin now, but at the time you shit youself

[autofive]

Start one! I'm sure most of us will have something we can contribute!

 

okay then i will

 

i decided to empty the petrol out of the dead Cortina and put it in the scimitar. Had a look around the garage for scarys electric pump, couldnt find it. Then i had a brainwave; i had picked up an electric pump from a car boot sale last week, it had crocodile clips attached, tested it on a 12v battery and worked fine; one side sucking the other blowing: perfect. I rigged up two pipes and a petrol can, attached it to the cortina battery, left it sat on the inner wing, connected the pipe to the cortinas (broken) petrol pipe and switched it on. Pumping rate was good, in no time at all i had half a can, starting thinking about getting another petrol can ready then WOOF - the pump caught fire, 6 foot flames in my face (pumping still working furiously at this point), then i noticed my trouser leg and boot was on fire, along with the petrol can and pump. Pulled the crocodile clips off the battery, kicked the can across the floor away from the fire, pulled the pipe off the pump, threw the burning pump on the floor. Put out the flaming trouser and boot.

At this point i had 4 fires on the go. one under the back of another cortina (where the petrol can had ended up), one under the front of a sierra, One burning and melting pump, and the front of my cortina. I kicked the petrol can away from the cortina (which i remembered had an open can of petrol in the boot) as i kicked it my boot caught fire again, quickly followed by my trousers, again. i grabbed scarys old sweatshirt and tried to put out the fire under the back of the cortina, now i have a burning sweatshirt too. i turn around to see the fire under the front wing of my cortina is really a flame thrower from the attached pipe. At this point i started to panic slightly. Alone in a yard of burning cars with no CO2 extinquisher, and nothing to smother the flames. The petrol can looked like a bunsen burner, no ammount of smothering would put it out. Now i was panicing a bit more.

After moving a caravan base out into the steet, i managed to push my cortina away from the flames (pulling the burning pipe off the car), now i only had 3 major fires, and a minor one. Then salvation, someone passed me a CO2 extinquisher over the fence - but i didnt work, then i second one that finally put out the fires. Then i collapsed in a heap and (away from the petrol) had a fag while i waited for my heartrate to drop slightly.

 

well thats my "What makes you grin now, but at the time you almost shit youself" story

 

anyone got anymore?

[tonedepear]

That's gonna be fairly hard to beat, I reckon. Well played!

[eddyramrod]

Agreed, that's top stunt work!

[barefoot]

Many, many years ago, when I first bought the T2,

I took it to a local VW specialist - 'Bob Sherwin in Clifton' to have a new exhaust fitted.

If you've ever even thought about a VW exhaust you'll know it's a pig, 4 pipes to line up etc.

So I left it with him for the day, popped back, early evening...

 

'Yes Dave, bastard of a job, but we done well' etc

 

So, Van still high on ramp, bloke reached up, to turn key/fire it up/show off silence of new system...

 

Fuck me, some tit's left it in first so the old van plods along the top of the ramp...

& hits the wall of the unit, it's asbestos which promptly disintegrates along with the windscreen and the front mounted radio aerial...

 

but luckily I'd fitted it with a front air-bag/spare wheel and the van stopped,

 

Everything was coolish apart from Bob who was nigh on shitting himself.

I have never seen a bloke go so pale,

smoke so many cigars

in such a short time, but...

 

I got a loan car to go home in, the van was sorted VERY quickly

& I got free oil changes for a long, long time

[scaryoldcortina]

I was asked to sort out the front brakes on a LT40 recovery truck for a local scrap man, the truck arrived with a vauxhall combi van on the back of it. I jumped in and pulled the truck into the yard, and up to the garage. As I bumped the wheels over the lip of the concrete floor the combi rolled forward on the bed and unhooked the winch. That's all that was holding it onto a sloping beavertail... I watched in horror (through the mirrors) as it shot off the truck backwards and careered down the yard and out of the gate. Miraculously, it didn't hit the 10 cars in the yard or the mondeo parked opposite, and there was nothing coming along the lane either.

[Pillock]

I'm 18-19ish. I've been driving for about a year, two tops and I'm in my mums Megane dCi which is, naturally, the fastest car in the world.

Overtaking a late model Maestro Clubman with metal bumpers (isn't it odd what you remember) on a single-carriageway road, I'm probably a little over 60mph but not massive amounts. Side-by-side with it, suddenly 100 yards ahead someone pulls up to the road from a farm track on my right, looks to their right and seeing nothing coming, pulls out to their left. Which, if you're picturing this in your head, is right in front of me.

 

By now I'm a little ahead of the Maestro, but only 20 yards away from this car so I performed that well-known emergency move of "shutting my eyes" and I headed for the gap that wasn't there, in front of the Maestro. I assume Maestro Man jammed the brakes on, Other Driver Man must have stopped dead because when I opened my eyes again all my limbs were still attached and my brain was still encased in skull.

 

I can't actually think that despite my age, I was doing much wrong but it took a good few minutes of shaking like a shitting dog in the next layby before I felt able to drive on. That was definitely the closest I've ever come to being scooped up by a paramedic with a spatula. I guess I only grin now because I'm alive!

[eddyramrod]

Pillock, I've got one like that, from 1980 when I was 21 and driving my 1967 Anglia. Overtaking what seemed to be a very long truck in Norfolk, two mates aboard... Suffice to say, I haven't seen the lad in the back since that week, and the one in the front is now an alcoholic. I don't think I was the cause...

[Pillock]

And.... my Polo once developed a bit of a sticky starter motor. Popped to work to pick something up, parked on the side access road. Upon coming out, car wouldn't start so decided to bump it by myself since it was at the top of a slightly downhill straight road. Door open, started pushing down the road and got up a half decent speed. Plan was to jump in, into second, clutch up and go.

 

Jumped in, amd my arse caught the bolster on the sports seat. I'm feet in, arse-out and flailing madly. I flail more when I remember that at the bottom of the access road is the operations manager's S-Class. Grab hold of anything I can and manage to get my arse in the seat just in time to steer around the corner.

 

They caught it all on CCTV too, and were laughing at me when I walked in the next day.

[Lord Sterling]

Not as heart stopping as some, but in the early 00s' I was about 19 and didnt know how to drive properly, I'd only ever had a few lessons. Ma_Sterling let me loose on cleaning the Micra (which we have still got! ) At the time we were living in a maisonette with a shared driveway. The maisonette had been converted from a large house, down the side of the house at the end of the driveway was rather shallow but abrupt step to ditch where our kitchen extension was.

 

I was rather enjoying myself moving the car about and I started getting a bit cocky, I moved the car up the driveway toward the ditch to park it up beside the front door, but instead of stopping the car shot forward and landed on the edge of the ditch with front wheels hanging and the front end inches from the kitchen extension.

 

I didnt know what to do, I couldnt reverse the car as its front wheel were hanging and no one else was around to help out, I couldnt hide what I'd done and had no choice but to tell Ma_Sterling what I'd done. It was the longest and scariest walk upstairs to where she was giving my then baby sister a bath. Needless to say mums face went red with rage, when she saw the car it was how the hell did you manage that etc.....

 

After trying to push the car back and making things worse our nieghbour thankfully came over to help, we both grabbed the front wheel arches and mum was able to reverse the car back onto proper driveway. I never drove the car there about there again.

[autofive]

And.... my Polo once developed a bit of a sticky starter motor........

 

that reminds me of an incident when i used to work at british steel many years ago

 

me and a(nother) lunatic were having a dumpertruck race around one of the car parks. a HGV driver with a 40 foot trailer of fresh steel reversed out of a space in front of me. i flicked the steering right and then quickly left to avoid the trailer, cornering with such force caused me to fall off the side of the dumper. The dumptruck then carried on in a straight line course for the site managers office. i had to get up off the gravel and run after it, catching it just in time to hit the brake and swing it away from the building. disaster averted, but i lost the race

[catsinthewelder]

One from Durham as its Autofives thread

 

About 12 years ago I didn't drive and 3 of my mates ran Fiat Unos. Mac's 999cc 5 door was misbehaving, a broken engine mount, specifically the gearbox end plate was diagnosed. He worked full time on the railways so often left the car at home. Me and Chippy were convinced to source a part and fix it. A trip to the local scrappys down by the river resulted in being told that we would have to take the whole gearbox away for £35 rather than the saucer sized part we wanted but could have the entire Fiat Panda that it was in for £30. God knows why.

 

Being an idiot and a skinflint I handed over £30 and we hitched it to the back of Chippys Uno with an old bit of rope. Tom steering and me next to him made it as far as the entrance to Milburngate shopping centre where the rope snapped on the first hillstart. Panicking we fired it up and drove it up to Macs house (someone had assumed that towing it without t+t etc was completely legal).

 

Mac understandably flipped when he got home from work to find a knackered red Panda with a green 4x4 drivers door and black tailgate on his parents drive and insisted that we shifted it pronto. As I'd payed for it, it was apparently my problem and there were no volunteers to drive so that was me too, great. The university has some wasteland near my dads house so I figured that it would be ok for a couple of days and drove it there in convoy with the others.

 

Any rate as we now had a scrap car and some wasteland the driving lessons soon progressed so I became a dab hand at handbrake turns but then we ran out of petrol. I left one of the lads sitting in the car on an incline on the dirt track and went off with Mac to get more petrol. As his car had a broken engine mount he'd parked in a layby at the entrance to the woods to avoid unnecessary off roading. There was a T junction in the path with our pedestrian entrance opposite the road exit from the wood on an ex indusrial railway. The car was on a track up the old embankment which led to the helpful wasteland.

 

As we walked down the path we heard an engine and turned around to see a police Corsa heading towards the Panda but still unseen to it by the corner in the track. We shouted a warning to the others and pegged it. They jumped out and started to run up the hill, however they left the handbrake off and it started rolling back down the hill towards where the Corsa was approaching the junction. Fortunately one of then ran back and yanked the handbrake on before retreating.

 

How the hell none of us got into trouble over the whole thing is beyond me but it cost me 20 quid to get rid of the car and as a final indignity Panda engine mounts don't fit Unos

[Cavcraft]

Pulling out of my drive on my motorbike, approached nearby roundabout and switched to right hand lane without looking. Someone behind me honked their horn so again without looking I flicked the Vs. This was not a good idea as I got overtaken on the roundabout by some huge nut case of a bloke in a Range Rover who then pulled his car across both lanes of the bypass and tried to knock me off. Luckily I managed to get the bike over the kerb and down a side road and get away. I was absolutely crapping it but got my own back a shortwhile later as he'd parked across the road for about half an hour so I went across the back gardens and took pot shots at his car with an air rifle.

 

Going airborn on a TS250ER over some fields one day was also a bit of a brown trouser moment but luckily for me my mate fell off the back and I landed on him.

[Station]

Going to a pub in Frodsham and then being driven home in my mate's Cavalier in the boot, he decided to go via Hooton - one of the roads has a humpback bridge which you can get at least a foot off the ground depending on speed, it's bad enough being seated. Same mate and car, he managed to spin the Cav three times down a narrow bendy country lane on a curve without hitting anything.

 

The only fire related problem I had was putting carb cleaner in the throttle body and have CC and petrol spray out into the engine bay! Arm hair gone!

 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u1A1Q0hx3kU

[oldford]

In 1986 we had to collect a hire car from the branch in Colchester, we were in Ipswich. It was 9 in the morning and we had to have the car back by 9:30 and getting to the Colchester branch meant driving through Colchester during the rush hour. My boss had a brain wave, we'll go on his motorbike, a 1972 Triumph Trident 750, one of the guys at work used to come in on a motorbike, so I borrowed his crash helmet.

 

I had never been on a motorbike before, let alone on the back of one, I didn't know anything about leaning on the corners or even how to hold on properly, I was wearing no gloves, a thin cotton jacket, a normal pair of trousers and an ill fitting crash helmet. On the first roundabout out of town we got a little bit of a wobble on. Due to how I was holding on, every time the back wheel came up I could feel the little rubber strands from the tyre wall on the back of my hand.

 

We got onto the A12 and he opened it up, 110 mph I was told later, he even mentioned how he thought about crouching down to get more speed, which would have inevitably seen me blown off the back of the bike. When we got to Colchester we were filtering a bit aggresivley in the traffic. When we got to our destination, I nearly fell off the bike and had some rather choice strong words to say to him, which I think that under normal circumstances would have meant instant dismissal.

 

Coming out of the branch in a silver Montego Vanden Plas EFi automatic, I nearly put it head on into a lamp post as my arms were that stiff I couldn't steer it properly and it had power steering. We ended up getting back at 09:40.

 

We still have a joke about it to this day.

[CreepingJesus]

Not in the league of setting fire to/having a near miss/ crashing stuff, but I'm going to selflessly nominate myself for 'Joey Of The Week', after last night's caper.

Meg's running a little rough; a slight exhaust blow, and the desperate need of a service account for that. Coming back from the shops, I could've sworn she dropped onto 3 cylinders briefly, so I popped the bonnet open and had a little look. Getting down to road level, I spied a trickle of fluid dropping onto the tarmac. BOLLICKS! OMG HGF etc. All sorts of scenarios racing round my head.

Went out to have a better look later - no fluid evident at all. Hmmm...fire her up, trickle starts again; but it's definitely dropping off the steering rack. SHEET! That thing's a pig to get out, apparently. Don't fancy that much...but wait. The top of the rack's wet. Right under the heater's condensation drain hose...

JOEY! JOEY DEACON! It was nice 'n' warm yesterday, and the aircon was working overtime. Of course there would be some condensation for the system to get rid of! What a tube. Should've known better. I'm grinning now, of course.

The real heavy duty stuff, comes from my truck driving career, so I won't go into that - I'd be here all day. Snow capers, self-tipping HIABs and more!

The garage stuff always seemed to happen to other people: starting a car with no oil in it, exploding batteries, automatic Jag off a ramp etc., not me your honour.

[eddyramrod]

self-tipping HIABs and more!

 

Yes, that's always exciting to watch, especially if you're at the controls and it's leaning over you... (VoE moment, but don't tell anyone!). I can, however, tell the story of Feb 3rd 2003. Twas a day of high winds and I was driving an ERF flat loaded with timber, sheeted over. First drop was the nearest (is that a Motown song...?) on the edge of Preston, and his order was on the top, all on one side. Fine, so I only untied one side of the sheet and just rolled it up onto the other side while the forklift took it. Climb down, get notes signed, while sheltering from the horizontal rain by the way; then back up to refit the sheet. Draped it over the load ok, back down to ground level, grab one of the ties to fasten it, and... here comes the wind. If I hadn't left one side tied the bloody thing would have been in York! It ripped the tie out of my hands, and because I was fighting it, I went over backwards into the mud. Some of the builder types grabbed it and pulled it back by the time I got upright again, for which, thanks lads. So I fastened up, roughly cleaned myself off and got back in the cab. First time I moved the gearlever I was aware of the pain in my left hand. By the time I made it back to the road (two or three shifts, no more) it was quite significant. I set off for the next drop, which fortunately took me in the right direction, and didn't get very far before I had to stop and phone the boss. I'm coming in, my day's over. There was no argument when he saw the pain on my face (I couldn't have kept it off with an electric fence by then!) but somehow I managed to drive my (manual) Orion to the hospital. A fractured scaphoid bone is extremely difficult to detect, apparently, so they just plaster up your hand anyway assuming the worst. See, I know that now...

 

Later in the day I phoned my friend who worked at the hospital, explaining what happened, and could she and her son retrieve my car from the car park and bring it home for me? Certainly, no problem; but why didn't you say when you were here? You could have taken mine, it's automatic. (And I sold it to her not 9 months earlier!) D'oh!

[Station]

Coming out of the branch in a silver Montego Vanden Plas EFi automatic, I nearly put it head on into a lamp post as my arms were that stiff I couldn't steer it properly and it had power steering. We ended up getting back at 09:40.

 

We still have a joke about it to this day.

 

Haha!

After spending four hours racing gokarts in a work's do, I got confirmation from all of my workmates the next day on how impossible it was to drive home afterwards, what with being used to the 'gokart' handling around corners and having totally buggered arms!

[The Reverend Bluejeans]

An un-named breakers in Zummerset. Wrestling with an Alfasud four cars up dropping the engine out to get the 'box. Fucking thing was already wobbling.....last 13mm on the front engine mount and the engine drops down with a thud, on my hand. In the space of about 3 seconds, I slipped off the bonnet of the Viva I was sitting on, landing on the roof something 10ft below...as the Alfasud - now engineless - tipped backwards and fell to the oily ground below, landing on its boot before toppling over onto its side. How the scrapyard owner didn't hear the bang...

 

Needless to say, I quickly recovered, seperated the gearbox from the engine and left with my blood spattered trans 25 quid poorer.

[dollywobbler]

At a 2CV camp many years ago, I was hooning around in a field. Nowt wrong with that, though perhaps I should have done it further away from other people's tents.

 

Perhaps it also would have been more sensible not to be hanging out of the driver's door with my left foot on the throttle. I got out of shape, ended up aimed straight for a friend's tent, panicked, put my clutch foot down. Yes. The one that's actually on the throttle. Fortunately had the sense of mind to jump on the brake instead and stalled it inches away from my mate who was just clambering out of his tent. I imagine we both shat ourselves. I'm not sure it actually makes me grin - it was stupid. Almost amusing because he didn't die though!

[Rusty Pelican]

Driving my old Sunbeam Stiletto up to a Tee junction I suddenly lost all the brakes , by the time id realized what had happened id shot out the Tee junction , crossed a busy road without hitting anything , mounted the kerb , semi took off , plowed through some blokes box hedge and stopped in the middle of his lawn on top his rose border

Did he come out and are you all right , did he fuck , just screamed abuse at me for destroying his Roses

felt sick after it had happened but just laugh now

[ashmicro]

It's 1990, I'm 17, and sitting at a T junction on my Honda CJ250. I got punted up the arse by a Barry in a Capri, and needless to say I fairly catapulted off the bike, superman-stylee across the other road and just landed on the grass at the other side. Capri-Barry tried to do a runner, but the old-fashioned chrome rear mudguard on my bike was jammed behind/under the Capri's bumper and valance and he couldn't drive away.

 

Another one which made me chuckle didn't involve me, but my best mate. He was driving an armoured police Land Rover in Belfast one afternoon about 3 years ago, 1 other up front and 4 cops in the back. If you're in the back of one of these things, you cant see out too well. As my mate was turning down a fairly narrow residential street, the Landy's steering wheel and the top of the column snapped off, and they ended up smashing through a garden wall, stopping inches short of the front of the house. Of course, the guys in the back don't know what the fuck is going on, and therefore jump out with weapons drawn as they assume they've been slapped with some kind of RPG. Equally, matey and his wife in the house are wondering why there's 4.5 tons of police Land Rover in their garden, and 4 coppers looking to shoot something.

 

 

It turns out that the Landy in question was first used in 1986, and had been bodged back together many times after being damaged in rioting, and at one stage had been rammed by a stolen truck.

[M'coli]

^^^That reminds me of a time in my first Imp, around the backstreets at the top of Glasgow Uni in early 1995. The road took a 90 left, and I dialed on lock to take this only for the pinion to gyrate itself out of the rack and the car to carry on in a straight line, luckily into a 1-way system with only right-turns! It was the first time I ever used RAC "get-you-home" in 5 years of car ownership. If I hadn't have had the RAC, I'd have found a way of driving home with the shagged rack .

[messerschmitt owner]

Back in January 2007 my work was closing an office in kent and moving everything back to Gloucestershire. I was visiting a client in Essex so volunteered to take the works transit and go get a load of stuff. It was four when I got to the office near Orpington, dark, wet and windy. Parked the van in the car park and started helping to empty filing cabinets for the move. Had successfully negotiated the stairs with five of the things when I was going down with another four drawer effort. Steps were slippy and I lost my footing half way down and fell backwards, letting go of the filing cabinet. Well, I hurtled down about twelve steps and the filing cabinet ran over my leg. Thankfully, at the bottom, there was a turn for the last few steps and I fell down there as the filing cabinet hurtled into the wall, knocking huge chunks of plaster off and making a hell of a dent.

 

I knew I'd hurt my leg badly cos it was sore and swelling up. The other people wanted to call an ambulance but I said I was Ok, as long as I could sit down and rest. One got a pack of frozen peas to pop on the ankle, which, unless I put weight on it, wasn't too sore, but was selling up beautifully. Loosened my shoe but didn't take it off and got everyone to keep loading the van up. I'd decided I was driving it home. So, at about seven, it was fully laden and I was ready to go. Sat nav on and off I went, had to stop for fuel about five miles from Orpington and it was then I realised I had done something severe to my leg as I hobbled to the pump and filled up and my ankle and foot went sideways. Hopped to the shop to pay and settled down to a long, slow journey back home (well, it was a transit ...). Had to stop to rest at Reading services, having called the wife to say I would be late as I'd hurt my leg. Gentle on the throttle and I was fine as long as I braked with my left leg but the roads were clear all of the way and I could cope with the driving. Gets home at about midnight, wife is in bed, and I don't want to wake her so I bump up stairs on my bum and hop over to the bed and crawl in.

 

Leg isn't too sore but by God is it bruised and swollen. Next morning, I says to her I've hurt my leg and won't be able to go to work. She takes one look and forces me to go to A&E where I discover that my leg is broken and I have a broken foot too. So, I'd done 165 miles with a broken leg.

 

Work weren't very sympathetic, despite the fact that I'd got the van home. Should have sued the buggers! I was off for eight weeks, and successfully ignored the phonecalls and emails asking if I could do some work, even though I had to keep my leg up and couldn't use the laptop easily,

 

Mind you, at least I didn't get stuck in Kent, in A&E late one night with no trousers as they would have cut them off, with a leg in plaster and no way of getting me or van home.

[Danblez]

Me and a few mates in the back of my mums Bedford CF van about 20 years ago. We were cruising home above the legal limit at about 11pm (that thing shifted I think it was a 2.3) when there was an awful 'clonk' 'clonk' 'clonk' 'clonk'. Slowed down sharpish and a mate who was a trainee mechanic jumped out to have a look. I drove along slowly as the van contiued its now much slower severe clonking. He couldn't see anything wrong so we decided to set off again at a bit more of a leisureley speed of about 35-40 when there was an almightly bang and the front corner of the van crashed to the floor as I saw the front wheel take off at speed into the middle of a field. So that's what the problem was!

 

Que 5 lads jump out and head into a pitch black field whilst we looked for the now disapeared front wheel. The bloke in the farm nearby called the polic thinking he was about to get turned over. Coppers arrrive in a metro panda car and asked us what was happening. Thakfully they believed the story although it was hard not to seeing the front hub sitting on the tarmac and we eventually found the wheel with nuts still in place behind the chrome hub cap 100 metres away. They even helped but the wheel back on with the help of the metro scissor jack which struggled with the weight.

 

The van was never the same again and juddered badly under braking and I olny confessed some 10 years later!

[Angrydicky]

A couple of years ago I was involved in a road rage incident. I was driving my Austin A35 when I was dangerously cut up by some twat in an Escort van. For some reason, not sure why, I gave him the finger as he roared off. Then I saw the brake lights come on so I slowed right down. He then drove off, down to a roundabout where he pulled off and waited for me to come past. When I did he came speeding out, literally 2" off my rear bumper, screaming, shouting blowing his horn and gesticulating to try and get me to pull over. I ignored him and he followed me for about 1/2 mile until we got to a dual carriageway section where he drew alongside me and screamed a load of foul-mouthed abuse out of his passenger window at me. It was then I saw he was a smackhead and turned off in the direction of the local police station, at which point he broke off.

 

Scared the shite out of me at the time that did.

[ashmicro]

If it's any consolation A_D, he probably got the shit kicked out of him, and sooner rather than later. We had a fat ginger slabber who lived over the road from us years ago, and he got on like that, until he picked on the wrong guy.

[dollywobbler]

Reminds me of a time I was driving from Stratford to Brum in my 2CV with a couple of female friends aboard. I can see a right road rage incident building up in front of me. One car has come barrelling past me, and he decides to have a go at the car in front of me as well, in a 30 zone. What neither of us expected was for the car he was overtaking to try and ram him off the road! Gets heated quickly, the two cars pull over and a barney breaks out. I pull up in the 2CV and leap out having bravely/stupidly decided to get involved, only to discover that the bloke who swerved is absolutely pissed and completely irrate that the sober bloke tried overtaking him in a 30 zone!

 

Annoyingly, this was the days before mobile phones, so I had no way of alerting the police. This bloke could barely stand up and certainly couldn't get his words straight! I challenged him to drive to the next Police station if he thought this other bloke's driving was so bad. He said he would! I very much doubt he actually did. My friends were shit scared but I didn't really consider how nasty it could have got until I was back in the car. Not sure that this incident makes me grin though. It was just f*cking nasty.

[face]

This: