Let’s admit it. There’s a lot of ego in driving. It’s hard to admit, let alone analyze, driving mistakes. However, the best drivers are, one might say, ‘mistakenly great’. As Niki Lauda said once, “Really, you should always discuss the defeats because you can learn much more from failure than from success.” And as Dale Earnhardt Sr. said, “You win some, you lose some, you wreck some.”
So, in the mission to train great drivers, I welcome our students and professionals to share their stories of mistakes, failures, and defeats. Do you have a story? I’ll offer Free Drift Experience hot laps if we publish your story! DM us on Instagram!
Here’s a story of one of my teenage crashes, and the lessons learned:
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I was 17, and I had sold the lemon!
That Pontiac Sunbird with retread tires and rust under the sparkly blue paint was no more. Some sucker fell for the Kenwood stereo like I did and bought it for half what I paid. Wait, who’s the sucker?
I forgave myself for that sophomoric mistake, because now I was the proud owner of a sparkly charcoal 1982 Datsun 280zx with red interior!
It was badass. And in return, I was badass. Or at least I held onto that thought to lessen the pain of my recent ex-girlfriend’s decision to date my best friend. She was not a lemon.
So on one fateful weekday morning I had feelings, to put it mildly. On top of that, I was late for school, as usual. However, I’ve been here before. I drove my Datsun fast, so I was confident I could make up time. Plus, being mad at the world may help my speed. I thought.
I decided to skip the freeway. Traffic would slow me down. I diverted to the quiet and familiar residential streets. The asphalt had a sheen from the drizzle that morning. But these were roads I maneuvered adeptly many times. As my mind swirled with stress and pity, I headed into a known corner at my “normal” speed. I turned the wheel, but I didn’t feel the usual g-force. Instead I felt what can be best described as alarming eeriness through the red steering wheel. My front tires were sliding. I braked hard, but there was no ABS. I was sliding straight for the fence of a stranger’s front yard.
Shit! Perhaps I exclaimed more, as all of the worst words raced through my head out my mouth. At the same time, I realized I was going to be even more late to school. And my precious “new” 4-year-old car! With all those thoughts in 2 seconds time, my eyes were GLUED on that brown fence. It was the thing I did NOT want to hit. So of course, I’m staring at it. In panic I turned the wheel more, increasing the load on my front tires, not helping the understeer. Straight as an arrow I plowed through the fence, knocking down two panels.
I’m finally stopped in front-yard dirt. I pause, and the adrenaline settles. I look around a formerly-secluded front yard, wondering if people inside the house heard the calamity 200 feet away from their front door. I imagined an introverted older couple inside having morning coffee. Probably tea. I’m guessing they put up that fence to keep headlights and prying eyes off their front windows. They never expected it to hold back a distraught teenager in a moderately-powered sports car from sliding into their yard. And it didn’t.
I opened my car door slowly, to not further injure the car or my pride. I was relieved to find only bumper scratches. I ring the doorbell and have an apologetic conversation with an older couple, who was much like I imagined. I got to school and got took my tardy notice. I made a trip to the hardware store. And that weekend I hammered the fence back in place under the hot California sun, ruminating on what had gone wrong. With everything.
What car control lessons were learned?
- Distraction – I was not conscious of the road surface. I was not conscious of any of my driving because my thoughts were elsewhere. As conditions worsen and/or as speed goes up focus and awareness should go up in multiples.
- Vision – Having not developed good eye work habits at this age, I reacted to the corner when I got there, having to turn too sharply at too high a speed in too wet of a surface.
- Reaction – My reaction to danger was swearing and other thoughts rather than immediate correction to the situation.
- Target Fixation – It is a common phenomenon. Eyes get fixated on what you don’t want to hit. As a result my body just locked up the car rather than giving me the right input to correct the situation. Had I reacted correctly and focused on an exit, I may have caught the understeer immediately, unwound the wheel a bit and applying the right braking, avoiding lockup, balancing the weight, and slowing down to avoid the slide to make the turn. Or at least not hit the fence.
