“I shouldn’t have done that,” is a sentence I’ve uttered too many times to count. Usually, I do something that sounds like it could have been a good idea when I thought of it, but then the execution is so disastrous that I wonder why I’m even permitted to have a driver’s license or something resembling good things in life. Yep, I’ve done some terribly boneheaded things behind the wheel, and I want to know that I’m not alone. What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done behind the wheel?
This week, I’m starting a multi-part series about how picking up my new-to-me 1997 Honda Life went catastrophically wrong after just one small goof-up. Then, I compounded my misery with one more bad decision. Then, a severe storm sank a knife into my bruised heart just for good measure.
I’m still feeling extremely bad and stupid over this, and to try to bring myself comfort, I’ve tried to remind myself that I’m only human and there have been other times I made small mistakes that snowballed into something much larger.
One of my most recent boneheaded moves was when I took our Ski-Klasse Mercedes-Benz E-Class project on the Gambler 500. We built that car to be the ultimate snow car, but we also thought it might be fun to take off-roading, too. Thus, Ski-Klasse ended up at 4Fest, where I deleted the vehicle’s muffler on a dirt track. Then, I drove it down to Tennessee, where I tested out Ski-Klasse’s strengthened front-end structure by banging it down off-road trails.
It was during this Gambler 500 rally that I bit off more than I could chew. I saw a mud hole and watched as far more capable vehicles got beaten up getting through it. But I thought it wasn’t going to be a big deal. I figured I’d just enter the hole with more speed and rely on the car’s beefy front end to get the vehicle through. It was going to be the ultimate test to show just how much of a beast that we turned Ski-Klasse into.
I was half correct. The strengthened front end did its job. I didn’t so much bounce through the hole like the earlier 4x4s did, but beat the mud into submission. What I didn’t account for was how the rest of the car was going to take the hit. The left rear hydraulic shock blew on impact, sending hydraulic fluid gushing out at a rapid rate and rendering the car nearly inoperable. My Gambler 500 run was done only a couple of hours in. I then spent the rest of the weekend trying and repeatedly failing to fix the dead suspension. Ultimately, I was rescued by the wacky racers of the 24 Hours of Lemons.
Adding insult to injury was how the wagon’s right rear window regulator failed, which was followed by the window shattering when I hit a particularly bad pothole with the car’s broken suspension. People on Instagram then called me an “it” when I posted videos detailing just how silly and bad things got. It was just a horrible weekend all around. Oh, and then I screwed up again only a few months later when I took Ski-Klasse drifting in a snowy parking lot and got it stuck on a snow pile. Yeah, Ski-Klasse wasn’t exactly great in snow, either.
Other dumb times include when I accidentally ran one of my Smarts low on oil for hundreds of miles, when I left my credit card on my car’s roof, when I tried to ride an unfamiliar scooter 700 miles home, when I accidentally broke one of my Smarts’ parking pawls, and when I caught two minivans on fire.
Yet, I don’t consider any of those antics to be my dumbest times behind the wheel anymore. You’ll have to stick around to read that later. For now, make me feel a bit better about myself and tell me, What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done behind the wheel?
How long is your attention span?
How I and the friends I hung out with in the 90s aren’t dead or in jail as a result of the stupid things we did in cars and on bikes is a mystery to me.
Speeding at greater than 4 times the legal limit? Done that.
Jumped a car multiple times, including once across a railway crossing while the boom gates were down (and they were only down because we had run a wire between the rails to trigger the signals and lower the gates).
240+km/h on a bike in an 80km/h zone past a police car.
Set fire to a car drifting on gravel when the handle of a hand winch fell across the battery terminals in the boot, burnt myself pulling the winch handle free then continued drifting.
Broke a welded diff centre doing burnouts in a Datsun 510, which resulted in full drive to the left wheel only, then discovered that accelerating steered the car right, lifting off steered it left, and alternating rapidly between the 2 made the car fishtail wildly at freeway speeds.
Bought a car with a crack in the auto transmission case that leaked enough fluid that it would only drive in reverse, so naturally we drove the 15 kms home in reverse then dropped the pan and glued up the crack.
Painted most things matt black with flames, and one Datsun 510 also got a big skull and crossbones on the roof as a result of being bored and finding an old tin of white paint and a brush in the shed.
Halfway through discovering the Ford Escort engine we were trying to swap into my Cortina was slightly different and wouldn’t fit, I ended up doing a high speed run around the block with no bonnet and no rocker cover, raining oil everywhere, then having to make a mad dash to get home and hide the car when a police car turned to chase.
The only injury any of us suffered was when my best mate was the designated driver in his friend’s early RX-7, which was not properly registered at the time. After dropping everyone else off, he was cruising home when a police car coming the other way turned to follow him. He took off down the side streets to escape, clipped a curb speeding through a roundabout and launched off another curb, hitting a tree head on 6′ off the ground, punching the engine backwards, shattering the bellhousing which tore up through the floor and gashed him open from ankle to hip.The only things recoverable from the wreck were the taillight lenses, he spent 6 months in a rehabilitation centre, and I got told off once by the staff for doing a huge burnout leaving the carpark on my previous visit.
And that’s only a down payment on the long and stupid saga that was our youthful stupidity.
Jumped a 1985 Ford Escort with the rims on backwards so they would stick out more.
The dumbest thing I have ever been a part of in a car was riding with some buddies down to Ole Miss in an old limo that my best friend’s father bought from a airport transport company, while drinking from a party ball(remember those), picking up a bunch of coeds(including friends), my buddy immediately going entirely too fast around a long sharp turn at the bottom of a hill(as I yelled to slow down), and sliding the limo into a ditch. The car was almost completely on its side so we had to climb up and out of the doors to get out. Needless to say, there were many frightened tears amongst the ladies and the night was less than the delightful spectacle we had planned. Unfortunately, one of our buddies committed a Southern sin by running off into to the woods abandoning the understandably traumatized ladies(this is a term of respect, not belittlement or constraint). For this breach of etiquette, he was ragged on mercilessly for quite some time, perhaps even years. Granted, we still made a great weekend of it without the car. GOD BLESS Cadillac for making such a damn tank because after getting a front alignment done at an out-of-towners exorbitant rate, we were able to drive it back to Nashvegas at the end of the weekend.
The other was my older brother hauling ass down a snowy road and sending our father’s cherished orange Karmann Ghia spinning until my door met the corner of a street-parked car- totalling the Ghia. I still remember hopping left in my seat at just the right moment and the look of terror on my brother’s face. Miraculously, I was not injured but man am I grateful that it twas not I that had to face my father’s chagrin and utter wrath. No crimes were committed in our house that day but I could swear that all of the snow melted on and around it from the wattage Pop was putting off.
Be assured that I have done my share of yobbish and imbecillic things in my cars but I just can’t pinpoint the worst quite YET.
As teenagers / young ‘adults’ my buddy and I would go to visit our other buddy on his farm all the time. Not a long drive on true country roads. There was a bridge with a good crest to it that we knew by heart what speeds to take in what vehicles to get the perfect air. I mean seconds worth of air, could have measured it with a stopwatch. The pitch of the bridge made landing beautiful unless you overshot it.
Problem was, it’s a one-and-a-half lane bridge.. And there was zero visibility of the other side until it would have been too late.. Two Geos could have squeezed passed but no way any larger cars could have. It’s been closed now for years due to a dispute with the railroad beneath it. When I think back on how lucky we were to never see a tractor coming at us… it shakes me…
That’s a perfect reminder for one of the dumbest things I did behind the wheel. I happen to know of a large ditch in a nearby community that’s spaced perfectly from an intersection that when you floor a mid-90s Dodge van loaded with the tools and supplies for cable repair work when the light goes green, you hit the perfect speed to catch just the smallest amount of air on the far side of it…
Great comment and imagery.
Returning home from work with an out of lease company car that was being turned in at the end of it, driving home in the snowstorm. Person would not let me pass, so I went around them on the right, did a break check and the rear wheels locked up. I think I did 3 revolutions before the car landed in the median. I drove the car back, Waayy more carefully. I could have rolled it.
i was wasted drunk with my cousin and I rammed my neighbors car in my dad’s newly acquired lexus when i was 19….I am still embarrassed and it still hurts. good thing: the only thing that was hurst is my stupid ego
Nice try, Mr. Policeman. I’m not sure how you roped Mercedes into this, but that was very clever.
I don’t do dumb things behind the wheel..
Definitely driving drunk.
I was barely driving age and my ‘friends’ decided I was the least drunk person in the group so I should drive.
There is no excuse. This was utterly stupid. Walking, using a pushbike, sleeping in a ditch or calling a taxi are all better alternatives.
Honestly, gotten a hummer. While moving, not parked. I have no idea how I didn’t crash during that climactic moment, but we sure were lucky to avoid a very Garpy moment. Never tried that again.
Young, dumb, and full of something.
Had a summer project car, an ’89 Nissan Maxima, with all the bells and whistles. None of which worked. Ended up finding out the transmission controller had failed. Once I replaced it with a junkyard unit, the car was like a rocket ship.
Took it out on the highway to stretch its legs and hit triple digits on multiple occasions.
It was only after getting home and doing some thinking did I realize I never checked how old the tires were. 15 years old and when I got the car they had been sitting half-flat. God knows what would have happened if I blew one going 115.
Easy, a younger, dumber me was texting while driving. This was 2013, I guess, and I was driving my 33000mi (yeah, that few miles) ‘88 C1500. Ran right into a tree on a hairpin turn.
Did I mention I wasn’t using a seatbelt?
The mass of the engine and the truck frame probably saved my life, though because I wasn’t buckled I broke 2 bones in my hand, which also made contact with my jaw. My bottom teeth cut through my lip, so blood everywhere, though I thankfully didn’t lose consciousness at any point. In my bloody state, I had to direct traffic til my ride to the hospital arrived.
It was a hard lesson to learn, and I hated to see that truck go, but I’m glad I’m alive. Plus the crash also enabled me to meet my wife, which was the hugest of huge silver linings! The only thing I kept from the truck before I scrapped it was the mint condition bench seat, which actually resides in my ‘99 K2500 tow pig.
Oh this is easy: getting extremely hammered and driving my Grand Voyager home. The next morning all I remembered was a single stoplight. I’m extremely lucky I didn’t kill anyone or myself or wreck the van.
I have two drinks a year now, both on holidays. That was enough of that. I saw what could happen within my family, and decided that morning that I was done.
In a less “extreme criminal negligence” example, I drove the big U-haul truck (35ft if I’m remembering) through one of the largest blizzard/ice storms the Midwest has gotten in my lifetime, with all my earthly possessions in the back, from southern Minnesota to northern Indiana. Top speed of 40mph, and driving into Milwaukee was one of the most awful experiences I’ve ever had, because those hills are the real deal even without pebbled ice.
After a big ice/snow storm one of our smaller pine trees broke in the middle and the top half was just hanging down. I hitched up our Subaru wagon to the top of the tree (now at ground level) to the front hook. I then backed up in the attempt to break off the tree. At one point the front end of the wagon was up in the air with the wagon at about a 45 degree angle. At that point I decided to stop. If the tree did break, the Subaru would slam to the ground with likely very bad consequences. I had to climb that tree with a chain saw to get that thing down.
I’ve done a quite a few silly things on the spur of the moment whilst driving – where my brain seems to have just checked out.
One that springs to mind a right turn lane with a dedicated traffic light arrow near my childhood home, an early morning start at work and a wet road. This is in Australia so right turns = left turns in the US in terms of crossing the intersection.
This particular morning there were quite a few cars ahead of me turning right and the person a few cars ahead of me didn’t notice the light change and only lurched forward after much honking from behind, meaning only a couple of cars went through before the light changed again. After waiting a full cycle *another* driver didn’t notice the light change for several seconds. By this point I was fuming, leaning on the horn and jamming the accelerator as I got through the light just before it turned red.
Of course, wet day, rear wheel drive and no traction control conspired together to push the rear out during the turn and the car did a graceful 180, sliding up onto the median strip at the edge of the intersection on the road I intended to drive down. I sat there for a bit, took a breath, popped the indicator on and carefully drove away after the lights changed.
Thankfully there was no damage to the car, just my ego, and I learned a good lesson on throttle control in the wet.
End of first year of college. Had managed to flunk at least 2 classes so I knew I was out and losing my student deferment. Bet two passengers for the 3 hour drive home that I could do it in less than 2 1/2hours. You should know the car was a 1963 Plymouth Fury with some huge mill that I no longer know the hp of, but I broke every speed limit during the run and pegged the speedometer repeatedly. No idea how those wide-oval Firestone tires didn’t blow. Those tires were judged defective & recalled.
What an idiot!
Oops forgot I once was having fun 4 wheeling in the back roads of Loxahatchee Florida around 11PM hit something in the road causing me to stall. Got out to find out what only to find it was a stunned Alligator that woke up pretty quickly. I have a similar story with coyotes in Needles California around the same hour.
I took my motorcycle over 100 on a frontage road that paralleled an interstate one night on the way home from work. Realizing I was incredibly visible to any LEOs on the freeway, I slowed down and then immediately got pulled over once in town. Fortunately, I knew the officer who pulled me over and we laughed it off. I brought a case of beer to his house the next day (which he had off).
The other dumb thing I did was drive off with a really cool old Canon III 35mm rangefinder camera still sitting on the roof of my car. That was a real bummer.
Brake checked a Greyhound bus. No idea how the driver kept from hitting me, but there was white smoke pouring off the Greyhound’s tires. Stupid decision that I got away with.
I did the same thing with a 15 passenger van that had a massive trailer on it. They did a last minute panic merge on a highway exit ramp to not miss it and forced me off the road and onto the hard shoulder, narrowly missing the guardrail so I fought to catch up and brake checked them hard. Definitely not my best moment on the road.
In hindsight that trailer would have pushed that van right into the back of my car if I had been even stupider and tried to get closer first.
Drive 31 hours straight. By myself. I can state with some degree of confidence that I briefly (less than ten seconds) fell asleep on 40 somewhere west of Amarillo, before I hit New Mexico. Never again.
Was going to attempt the same feat on the way home two weeks later, but a flat tire in Tulsa at 3 AM put a stop to that. Car was getting new tires the week I got back from that trip, but I got a hotel and got a new set that day.
Bad idea nowadays but in the past when you could buy ephedrine pills at any truck stop not anything to worry about.
My stupid decision was driving straight from WPB Florida to Derry PA. nonstop. When it was 80 in Florida and 30 in PA and needed a sweatshirt at Pedro South of the Border using ephedrine to keep me awake. It was only 28 hours but I arrived at 3am and no one was awake andi wasn’t sure if I was in the right place and after I got in I slept for 14 hours so no time savings.
Yup. I drove Fort Wayne IN to Phoenix. Slept about 18 hours after I got in to Phoenix. Would have cost me less time to grab a hotel on the way. I’m going to end up driving my car to WA when I move. 34 hours, probably gonna make it a three-day trip. Used to be able to do 15 hours a day driving just fine, but the older I get the more I hate long drives solo.
I was just a passenger/participant, but this still possibly qualifies as one of the stupidest things I’ve ever done.
I was maybe 11-12ish (as if that’s an excuse), and my uncle decided to take us out to the desert to shoot rabbits. There was a huge population explosion that year, and the state was encouraging people to help knock down the population, or so he told us (this was a bit before “bunny baseball” blew up in the national news).
Unfortunately my uncle’s plan for this involved my similar age cousin and I standing in the bed of the pickup with loaded .22 rifles while he drove through the winding and bumpy paths through the sagebrush, with a cooler of beer at his side. (I think this was just an excuse for him to drink, more than anything.)
I’ll skip the PTSD triggering details and just say fortunately there were no human casualties, though there may have been some sheet metal damage in the form of small, roughly quarter inch holes.
Pretty much the trifecta of stupid automotive hijinks – alcohol, loaded weapons, and kids riding in the back of a moving pickup. It’s amazing nobody died.
Childhoods were very different back then.
When my mother found out about it months later, she was furious. We never got left with him “unsupervised” ever again.
Yea this wasn’t that far from normal