When were you last really scared?We'd been watching the Shining. We were staying in an old church building. In hindsight, taking the shortcut home after midnight, in the mist, through the old graveyard was a bad idea.
I'm not sure what started it, but suddenly all the hairs on my neck had gone up and I was crapping myself. It was almost as bad as when, after a few cups of coffee too many and buzzing on caffeine, I got freaked out by my own reflection in the toilets.
When were you last really scared?
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chthonic, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 15:43)
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Lady Diana Spencer's Funeraland a bypass my current home town/city had just opened. No obvious connection there, but my brain was ticking over.
99% of Britain would be watching the TV. Police drafted in countrywide, to London.
So T thought " I wonder how fast my car goes?" Normally, I'm a boringly reliable driver. Hell, I've owned diesel Landrovers : I didn't need speed. But here was a once in a lifetime chance.
So, as the hearse headed to Westminster Abbey, I set off. First, scouting the road, seeing just how busy it was, whether the police were sitting on any overpasses etc. Quiet. Back to the start of the bypass and stopped.Deep breath. Music off. No other cars visible, so...off I go.
Speed picks up quite rapidly, and at 70, paranoia begins. Was that a policeman with a speedgun. Still push on. Then, a white car ahead of me in the distance. Shit! But, it was so unlikely to be Mr Plod. Carry on. Speed continues to rise, and I pass a white Fiat, and, phew, seemed to be a pensioner.
Notice that any steering corrections need to be glacier-slow. Anything faster, and the car lurched worringly. Wind noise was surprisingly low, but my heart was beating like a disco-beat.
Still the car accelerated, but an depreciating rate. Eyes glued of the road, with glances at the speedo. Steering wheeled gripped as tho' it might escape. Wheel started wobbling, and the veins in forehead starte throbbing.
It felt like there were a few more mph's to go, but I bottled it. Foot off the accelerator, stuck it into neutral (yeah...I know) and coasted. Sweat dripping into my eye, but I still gripped the steering wheel like my life depended on it.
Back down at 30, I puuled off the road and let my heart calm down. After what seemed like an eternity, the OAP mobile passed by, and I headed back home at a very steady 30.
So, thanks to Mr Gatso, I'm unlikely to repeat that.
127 MPH
On an A-Road
In a Rover 820
On remoulds
And survived.
With brown underpants.
Length : you love it.
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Tepid_Halibut felt like a cold, empty shell of a human...until, Thu 22 Feb 2007, 20:32,
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