killerkebab
20-10-2007, 18:40
... and I am not even joking.
Last night was a novel experience for me. I decided to go on the M4 towards Reading. All was well until at some point in my nighttime journey I lost concentration for a few seconds.
Long enough for my right tyre to find gravel, and for the car to spin to the left. I attempt to correct and of course, overcorrect, landing my sorry ass into the central barrier. It is a miracle that nobody else was around when I was spinning.
So now I am on the M4 fast lane, facing the wrong way in the middle of the night, with no way out in sight. I find that whilst I didn't feel anything when I hit the gravel and lost control and went into a barrier, I do feel scared right now. I feel an adrenaline surge like none I've ever experienced and watching those cars come within mere inches of mine at speeds in excess of 90mph make me feel very, very nervous. So I make a frantic call to emergency services, who advise me to get out of the car. That's nice, but where to?
Someone must have heard my fears because a '05 reg VW stops on the hard shoulder. A man gets out, dons a fluorescent jacket, grabs a spare, runs across the motorway, sees he has an opening in that the motorway was going to be quiet for the next 20 seconds, and literally grabs me out of the car and takes me to the hard shoulder. I had nothing but a T-shirt so he gave me a spare jacket, a spare fluorescent jacket, he said he'll stay with me to the end, he allows me to take calls from his car so I can get help, and he even offers to drive me home if I need it. It was only then that I looked and saw two kids and his wife in the car. This man was ready to postpone his plans (he was taking his family to legoland) to help me out. A hero of the highest order.
Nothing hit my car in the end, but I probably owe him my life regardless.
First person to arrive is an ambulance. Possibly due to my frantic manner in the phone call, he was very surprised to notice that I am fine and I don't have a single scratch on me. Only then do I notice he is right. I instantly become fascinated at the way I can survive a 75mph collision with a metal barrier without a single scratch, especially when we consider my car is dead. At least from here I think it is, because it is dark and whilst my car is still in the middle of the fast lane... my bumper is in a ditch beyond the hard shoulder, the license plate glowing blue from the ambulance's lights. This strikes a nerve (a lot of things will tonight) and I suddenly find I have a slight case of the shakes.
Soon therafter the police arrive. I tell my saviour that he shouldn't stay and that I will have to take care of myself from here on in, and he only seems to accept that when the policeman voices the same opinion. The police ask me routine questions, make a vehicle check, insurance check, license check, and alcohol check, and we put down the cause as lack concentration due to tiredness. He was a very nice man, telling me he could chase this up but he feels I have suffered enough. He gives me a lecture on concentration on the road especially on a straight motorway in the middle of the night when I am alone in the car, and ends the lecture saying he knows I don't want to hear it, but that he would much rather give me the lecture rather than be the one who has to inform my father of my recent death. That sentence struck a hell of a nerve. I found my recent adrenaline rush to be just about negated and I find my slight case of the shakes to be a severe one by now.
I manage to phone recovery who inform me that they will take upwards of an hour to show up, which means I am stuck on the side of the motorway with nothing but a T-shirt for an entire hour at 10pm. Highways agency stop and hand me a 'space blanket' which looks like a huge strip of tin foil to wrap around myself. I thought they were joking and obviously my facial expression gives this away as the man says 'trust me, it doesn't look like much but it might just save you from frostbite.' Damn if he wasn't right. The strip was paper thin but no wind gets through. I am absolutely frozen stiff by now and doing nothing but thinking. Thinking about what I must do, where I can go, the fact that I nearly died and how the hell do I tell my father that I have just gone and crashed a car he bought me no more than three months ago and nearly went and killed myself in the same move?
Recovery arrives and at this point I feel like a stalagmite but at least the truck has heating. My car gets towed to the university where I decide to make my next call to my dad. Upon finding out that I have crashed he goes from extremely concerned about my health to completely furious and back to concerned when he realises I was on the M4 in the space of 90 seconds. He tells me he will be here tomorrow (Saturday) to see what we must do.
I decide to go to uni halls which I've moved into earlier today. Walking past the communal kitchen one of the guys pokes his head out:
'You must be the new guy, you all right?'
'Not really, no'
'Why?'
I bet he was totally expecting the story that followed ;)
I find I have an urge for drink and gulp down some vodka to calm me down, and sleep. Pretty easily, considering.
Fast forward to this afternoon. The car is now in car heaven, where it shall stay. RIP Clio, they were fun days :(
http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/th_P7021574.jpg (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/P7021574.jpg)
http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/th_P7021575.jpg (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/P7021575.jpg)
Last night was a novel experience for me. I decided to go on the M4 towards Reading. All was well until at some point in my nighttime journey I lost concentration for a few seconds.
Long enough for my right tyre to find gravel, and for the car to spin to the left. I attempt to correct and of course, overcorrect, landing my sorry ass into the central barrier. It is a miracle that nobody else was around when I was spinning.
So now I am on the M4 fast lane, facing the wrong way in the middle of the night, with no way out in sight. I find that whilst I didn't feel anything when I hit the gravel and lost control and went into a barrier, I do feel scared right now. I feel an adrenaline surge like none I've ever experienced and watching those cars come within mere inches of mine at speeds in excess of 90mph make me feel very, very nervous. So I make a frantic call to emergency services, who advise me to get out of the car. That's nice, but where to?
Someone must have heard my fears because a '05 reg VW stops on the hard shoulder. A man gets out, dons a fluorescent jacket, grabs a spare, runs across the motorway, sees he has an opening in that the motorway was going to be quiet for the next 20 seconds, and literally grabs me out of the car and takes me to the hard shoulder. I had nothing but a T-shirt so he gave me a spare jacket, a spare fluorescent jacket, he said he'll stay with me to the end, he allows me to take calls from his car so I can get help, and he even offers to drive me home if I need it. It was only then that I looked and saw two kids and his wife in the car. This man was ready to postpone his plans (he was taking his family to legoland) to help me out. A hero of the highest order.
Nothing hit my car in the end, but I probably owe him my life regardless.
First person to arrive is an ambulance. Possibly due to my frantic manner in the phone call, he was very surprised to notice that I am fine and I don't have a single scratch on me. Only then do I notice he is right. I instantly become fascinated at the way I can survive a 75mph collision with a metal barrier without a single scratch, especially when we consider my car is dead. At least from here I think it is, because it is dark and whilst my car is still in the middle of the fast lane... my bumper is in a ditch beyond the hard shoulder, the license plate glowing blue from the ambulance's lights. This strikes a nerve (a lot of things will tonight) and I suddenly find I have a slight case of the shakes.
Soon therafter the police arrive. I tell my saviour that he shouldn't stay and that I will have to take care of myself from here on in, and he only seems to accept that when the policeman voices the same opinion. The police ask me routine questions, make a vehicle check, insurance check, license check, and alcohol check, and we put down the cause as lack concentration due to tiredness. He was a very nice man, telling me he could chase this up but he feels I have suffered enough. He gives me a lecture on concentration on the road especially on a straight motorway in the middle of the night when I am alone in the car, and ends the lecture saying he knows I don't want to hear it, but that he would much rather give me the lecture rather than be the one who has to inform my father of my recent death. That sentence struck a hell of a nerve. I found my recent adrenaline rush to be just about negated and I find my slight case of the shakes to be a severe one by now.
I manage to phone recovery who inform me that they will take upwards of an hour to show up, which means I am stuck on the side of the motorway with nothing but a T-shirt for an entire hour at 10pm. Highways agency stop and hand me a 'space blanket' which looks like a huge strip of tin foil to wrap around myself. I thought they were joking and obviously my facial expression gives this away as the man says 'trust me, it doesn't look like much but it might just save you from frostbite.' Damn if he wasn't right. The strip was paper thin but no wind gets through. I am absolutely frozen stiff by now and doing nothing but thinking. Thinking about what I must do, where I can go, the fact that I nearly died and how the hell do I tell my father that I have just gone and crashed a car he bought me no more than three months ago and nearly went and killed myself in the same move?
Recovery arrives and at this point I feel like a stalagmite but at least the truck has heating. My car gets towed to the university where I decide to make my next call to my dad. Upon finding out that I have crashed he goes from extremely concerned about my health to completely furious and back to concerned when he realises I was on the M4 in the space of 90 seconds. He tells me he will be here tomorrow (Saturday) to see what we must do.
I decide to go to uni halls which I've moved into earlier today. Walking past the communal kitchen one of the guys pokes his head out:
'You must be the new guy, you all right?'
'Not really, no'
'Why?'
I bet he was totally expecting the story that followed ;)
I find I have an urge for drink and gulp down some vodka to calm me down, and sleep. Pretty easily, considering.
Fast forward to this afternoon. The car is now in car heaven, where it shall stay. RIP Clio, they were fun days :(
http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/th_P7021574.jpg (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/P7021574.jpg)
http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/th_P7021575.jpg (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v59/KillerKebab/Car/P7021575.jpg)