Dancing on ice...
February the 18th, 1993. A cold, but otherwise inauspicious morning. There had been a little bit of snow that night, but no more than a light dusting, and the roads were clear. I had dropped the missus off at work at around 8:30, and then headed to the office.

Between the town I lived in and the town I worked in was a perfectly straight stretch of road, about two miles long. The visibility was perfect, I was keeping my distance (as taught by my instructor). Conditions were, as they say, ideal. As I motored along in the white Metro, music playing, I was in ebullient mood. Which considering that I was off to work at the DSS, was surprising.

Did I mention that this road was above disused mine workings? And that near the end of the road, the fields on either side had flooded, creating a couple of good-sized lakes?

As I approached these lakes, the car in front braked suddenly. As a precaution, and even though there was more than enough stopping distance between us, I instinctively touched my car's brakes very lightly. It was at this point that the otherwise flawless driving surface decided to reveal that it was, in fact, covered in black ice...

As I felt the rear end of the car begin to slide, time appeared to slow dramatically and my brain went into overdrive. You're meant to steer into the skid, right? One problem with that; it's the passenger side of the car that is sliding out, meaning that if I steer into the skid, it's going to take me onto the other side of the road and into oncoming traffic. No option but to try and steer out of it instead.

I wrestled manfully with the steering wheel, successfully pulling out of my collision course. Unfortunately for me, this had the effect of propelling me in the other direction, the car wheels locked and sliding gracefully across the ice like some kind of automotive Robin Cousins but without the gayness or sparkly jumpsuit.

"Oh, fuck", was all I could think, as I struggled frantically to bring the wayward Metro under control and pointing in a straight line once more. Needless to say I failed miserably, and ploughed straight into the kerb, the impact of which caused the bonnet to instantly fly up and obscure any view that might have been afforded me.

As the car flew (yes, flew) across the bank, several thoughts were running though my head. Generally along the lines of "Shit", "Fuck", "I'm going to diiiiieeeeee", and "Why didn't I get the bus?"

The car's flight didn't last long. No, there was the small issue of impact upon the surface of the lake. Water. That'll provide a relatively soft landing, right?

Not if that surface is covered in two inches of ice it won't. As the Metro plunged headlight-first into the icy pool, the whole of the front end crumpled like a concertina on impact. As the car came to rest (fortunately for me next to the bank), I realised that I was now facing the direction from which I had been travelling, meaning I had turned 180 degrees during my mid-air flight.

Getting out of the driver's side wasn't an option, as it was partially submerged, but the passenger side was almost on dry land. I escaped the wreckage with somewhat shattered nerves and a slightly damp foot - nothing more. Put a bit of a dampener on the rest of the day though, what with it being the ex wife's car and her birthday and all.

Thing was, when I got out, I locked the door to prevent some opportunistic oaf from nicking my wheels.
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Thu 22 Apr 2010, 12:45, Reply)