Time dilation and the sound of silence
That second or two of silence....its horrible, and it seemed to stretch out forever. All I could do was grip the wheel tighter and wait....wait and wait. I had enough time to think all kinds of thoughts, consider many different scenarios and to reflect on life, yet to someone observing from the outside, only 2 seconds would have passed.

5 seconds previously, I had been happily driving along in my Ford Orion. It was a 1.4GL with electric mirrors. It was gold with a brown and tan interior. It had alloys from an XR3i and a pumping Kenwood stereo system.
It was a left - right "s" bend which was normally not any kind of problem at anything up to about 55 mph. I had been doing a tad under 50 and all was well as I turned left. Turning into the right hand section, I spotted a car on its roof in the middle of the road. Unusual. I did the wrong thing and hit the brakes quite hard. The weight transfer of braking the already slightly unbalanced car sent the back end sliding out. Lift-off oversteer, they call it.
Steer into the skid? I didn't even have time to think about it.
Perhaps a whole two seconds into this unfolding drama and Rod Stewarts music on the stereo was being drowned out by the dull SCREEEEEEE noise of tyres moving sideways on tarmac.
Shit.
Two seconds further on in time and the screeching was replaced by a heavy thud which rattled every part of the car as I went sideways up the kerb. This was followed by a manic rustling noise as I plowed through a small hedge, then another thud as I hit a grassy hump, now going backwards.
The car took off, and this is where the silence happened. The engine must have stalled and as I sailed though the air, time stretched indefinately. Even Rod had gone quiet.
There was quite a drop into the field beyond the hedge, and as the Orion flew majestically backwards, I had enough time to reflect upon my chances of injury amongst the many other things going through my mind.
Those two seconds of silence were brought to an abrupt halt as the car landed vertically, boot-first in the field and proceeded to somersault end over end in an explosion of noise and violence. I remember it being very odd to see a handfull of cassettes hovering in the air by my head as the car went over and over.
Things came to a halt. I slumped against the seatbelt and the tapes rattled to a standstill against the drivers window. The car was on its side.
I extracted myself from the seatbelt and made my way out through the hole where the rear window used to reside. I had somehow lost one of my trainers during this metallic ballet and had cut my heel on something.
"holy fuck, that guy must be well dead" a voice said from the road as I stood next to the car as it made its final clicking, ticking and pinging noises as hot, twisted metal cooled and steam bubbled from the radiator.
I didnt have the presence of mind to count at the time, but looking at the marks in the field, I guess the car had tumbled 4, maybe 5 times end over end. I walked away from it with a nick in my heel that has left a little indentation in the flesh to this day.
Long before Ncap safety ratings, long before airbags were commonplace, in a time when cars were sold on performance, economy or practicality rather than safety, I somehow survived a seriously fucking big accident with hardly a mark. The guys in the overturned car on the road had clipped the verge on the bend and flipped over, also uninjured. When they saw my flight, they were certain I would have been killed.
Crashing sucks, but if you are going to do it - do it properly!
(dave likes cheese, Thu 22 Apr 2010, 17:19, 1 reply)

A well told tale.

(ThomsonsPier consumes, Fri 23 Apr 2010, 10:38, closed)