Spinning out of control
I crashed my car on the way to work Saturday morning. I am unharmed, so there's that.
It was snowing, and as usual the plows were weak. In classic New England fashion, no salt, no nothing. I had just pulled onto I-84, and my car hit an icy patch and wouldn't slow down. I pumped the brakes and turned into the skid, trying to make it stop.
It all happened slowly. I wasn't going faster than 35 mph, and the skid was slow and steady as I spun out and completely around. A light pole was in my field of vision, and I kept turning the wheel hoping the avoid it. Annoyance settled in, annoyance that this had to happen now.
The car flew off the road, off the shoulder, and swung into some small trees in a ditch. Trapped.
State troopers arrived within minutes of my emergency call. The tow truck took considerably longer. So I sat in the car, watching people drive past me, but too worried about their own selves to start a gaper delay. They towed my car out of the ditch, revealing the crumpled fenders around the driver-side wheel, the body work rubbing the tire. No way I was driving it anywhere.
Chances are it's just body damage. After dropping my car off at home, I was able to drive it around the parking lot and park it, so maybe there wasn't any mechanical damage.
At least my timing was impeccable. Work had enough staffers already, and I was off the next two days. Not the snow day I was looking for. Now the car's at the shop, and I'm in a rental Chevy Impala. I feel like a middle-aged normal in that car, but it rides like a dream.
Funny thing is, since the crash I've been having these wicked dreams in which I crash my car to pieces or suffer some other kind of serious physical trauma. I startle awake at the last moment, every time. This is how I wake up these days; what a joy to start the day this way. But at least I wake up.
It was snowing, and as usual the plows were weak. In classic New England fashion, no salt, no nothing. I had just pulled onto I-84, and my car hit an icy patch and wouldn't slow down. I pumped the brakes and turned into the skid, trying to make it stop.
It all happened slowly. I wasn't going faster than 35 mph, and the skid was slow and steady as I spun out and completely around. A light pole was in my field of vision, and I kept turning the wheel hoping the avoid it. Annoyance settled in, annoyance that this had to happen now.
The car flew off the road, off the shoulder, and swung into some small trees in a ditch. Trapped.
State troopers arrived within minutes of my emergency call. The tow truck took considerably longer. So I sat in the car, watching people drive past me, but too worried about their own selves to start a gaper delay. They towed my car out of the ditch, revealing the crumpled fenders around the driver-side wheel, the body work rubbing the tire. No way I was driving it anywhere.
Chances are it's just body damage. After dropping my car off at home, I was able to drive it around the parking lot and park it, so maybe there wasn't any mechanical damage.
At least my timing was impeccable. Work had enough staffers already, and I was off the next two days. Not the snow day I was looking for. Now the car's at the shop, and I'm in a rental Chevy Impala. I feel like a middle-aged normal in that car, but it rides like a dream.
Funny thing is, since the crash I've been having these wicked dreams in which I crash my car to pieces or suffer some other kind of serious physical trauma. I startle awake at the last moment, every time. This is how I wake up these days; what a joy to start the day this way. But at least I wake up.