Hardest thing done while driving

Arde

Arde

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This question was inspired by something really hard I had to do last week while driving.
I may not disclose what I did but I will help rank yours against mine into a list.

Feel free to send yours and reorder the list to your liking. 1) is hardest.
No illegal or unsafe stuff please. Immoral is up to you.

1) ...
2) ...
 
Stan

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no longer a problem with GPS, but the hardest thing for me was reading a map that I printed from Map Quest (remember that!). Long distances are easy, but navigating through a city when there would be one turn and 10 yards later another turn....
 
Nicad

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I changed all my clothes while late for a first date about 35 years ago with the help of cruise control.

I also cooked my mother's lasagna on my Corvair engine while on the highway. It was perfect and ready when I hit Cornwall (1 Hour outside of Montreal)
 
LarryE9E10

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Does young and stupid get extra points?

Late one Sunday night many years ago, I drove home from Watkins Glen (to Philadelphia) in my tii with a broken #3 plastic (high pressure) injector line taped together. As long as the engine was turning above 3,500 RPM, the gas flowed smoothly through the tube despite the crack/break. Below 3,500 rpm, it sprayed gas all over the engine. My brave/foolish wife sat next to me with the fire extinguisher on her lap. Didn't wear seat belts in case we had to make a "hot" exit. Not easy to drive 5+ hours (down small back roads, sitting at stop lights, paying at the toll plazas, etc) without ever letting the rpm's drop.

PS. Made it home. Still have the tii. Always carry a back-up set of injector tubes.

PPS. Amen
 
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Arde

Arde

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From the few precincts that reported we have the following leaders:

1) Arde
2) Injector roulette
3) Lasagna

"Listening to Peter's wife" gets an honorable mention, as it is hard for Peter and even harder for drivers in places distant from Peter and his wife.
 
bluecoupe30!

bluecoupe30!

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while driving....

Well this takes me back. Many years ago I was on my way north on I-5 north of San Francisco, in my Healey, when I was pulled over by Highway Patrol. He asked what was going on as he clocked me at 75 - 80 mph or so, then I had slowed to the speed limit and then returned to an excessive speed, even as he was approaching. I believed that honesty would be the best policy and admitted that yes, I had been speeding but revealed that I was also eating the sandwich prepared for me by a friend in Berkeley that morning, but the lettuce had slithered out from between the mayonnaise and dijon and I had to slow down to reassemble said sandwich. That, he said was the most honest reply he had ever heard and recommended I make my way north and out of the state on my way back to Canada, forthwith, but within posted speed limits! I saved the dessert til Oregon!
Mike
 
m5bb

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Boy these are great stories.
I must really lead a boring life.

The only thing close to this was the Toyota Landcruiser FJ40 I owned, started putting out a huge cloud of black smoke while on interstate 285 around Atlanta. It filled the cabin and was hard to see.
I managed to pull off on the median and jumped out and opened the hood.
There was fire and I did not have an extinguisher.
A truck driver saw my dilemma and stopped with extinguisher and put out flames.
The FJ40's had lines going to a remote oil filter mount and the lines were just braded rubber and ran too close to the exhaust manifold.
Got hot and started leaking oil all over the exhaust manifold.

Had braided steel lines made and never again.

Gary
 
CSteve

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Scene: Trans-Canada 1, early summer 1971. Somewhere east of the Canadian Rockies. Me: on my way to Banff for a conference, actually on a cross-Canada, down the US west coast, home through the Confederacy solo road trip. Car: a brand new 1971 BMW 1600.

The story: no one else on the highway driving through an endless pine forest. Suddenly to my left abut 300 feet above the tree line, a "bubble" helicopter tracking me. I am going my usual 90 mph so slow down a bit. He disappears only to appear on my right. I slow down, repeat this two more times. Then, there he is. About 75 yards in front of me and 50 feet above the tarmac. We road race for half a minute(probably less but I would like to think it was longer). He tilts his blades and is gone.

A couple of miles up the road at a Mountie station on the right is a "bubble" coptor sitting on the pad. 45 years later I can play the tape in my mind like I was just passing the pad.

Steve
 
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gwittman

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m5bb said:
Boy these are great stories.
I must really lead a boring life.

The only thing close to this was the Toyota Landcruiser FJ40 I owned, started putting out a huge cloud of black smoke while on interstate 285 around Atlanta. It filled the cabin and was hard to see.
I managed to pull off on the median and jumped out and opened the hood.
There was fire and I did not have an extinguisher.
A truck driver saw my dilemma and stopped with extinguisher and put out flames.
The FJ40's had lines going to a remote oil filter mount and the lines were just braded rubber and ran too close to the exhaust manifold.
Got hot and started leaking oil all over the exhaust manifold.

Had braided steel lines made and never again.

Gary
Click to expand...
That's interesting. I had the same thing happen on my FJ55 Landcruiser. Fortunately, I had just pulled into a parking lot and caught it before the fire got very bad. I was able to just blow the fire out. That was fortunate because the fire was right under the carburetor.

I installed a remote micron filter on my Coupe many years ago. One time I was climbing a fairly steep hill and came up on a slow moving van. The road was clear on the other side so I grabbed 3rd gear and powered on at high rpm. After I had passed, I looked in the mirror to watch the van fade in the distance and all I could see was smoke. I thought I blew the engine but it was still running great. I slowed down and pulled off the road to let the van go by. That was pretty embarrassing. I found the hose to the remote filter had split open and was spraying oil everywhere. Fortunately, there was not fire. The temporary fix was cut the hose in half, stick one of those priceless red handled screw drivers down the opening on the pressure side and tighten a hose clamp on it. That got me home.
 
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The remote filter I installed does not replace the existing filter. It is called a by-pass filter. It filters finer particles than the standard filter and returns the clean oil back to the crankcase ready to be used again but much cleaner. It by-passes about 15% of the oil supplied by the oil pump and of course the rest feed the bearings.

Kind of off topic but that by story and I'm sticking to it.
 
Ohmess

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So, picking up on Peter's theme to some extent, I was driving with my wife and son through the center of WI on my way to my wife's sister's lake cabin. We were meandering through a bunch of corn fields and whatnot because my brother in law had directed us to take the "short cut".

In general, WI is big on speeding enforcement, and they are particularly attentive to the revenue opportunities associated with speeders from other states. As the sun was setting and the short cut through the endless corn fields seemed to be taking forever, my speed crept up.

Suddenly, out of nowhere I hear a siren and see flashing lights behind me. And, my wife goes off -- HE IS TARGETING US BECAUSE WE HAVE VIRGINIA LICENSE PLATES, THIS IS NOT FAIR, ITS JUST A MONEY GRAB. I'M GOING TO GIVE HIM A PIECE OF MY MIND...

So, as the officer approaches my window, I'm sitting there thinking my wife is going to get me thrown in jail. PLEASE honey, darling, let me speak to him.

So, I give the officer my license and he begins asking questions "do you know how fast you were going?" Trying with all my might to sound calm, I reply "I'm not exactly sure, we are trying to get to Little Cedar Lake and my crazy brother in law gave me this short cut but I'm not sure I am still going the right way."

I'll be back, the officer says.

I look to my right, and steam is pouring from my wife's ears. Please honey, just let me talk to the guy. Maybe he'll let me off with a warning or something.

The officer returns, and shines his light on my son in his car seat in the back. As it happens, Alex was wearing his Brett Favre jersey, so the officer asks him "who is the best team in the NFL?"

Alex, in a tone reeking with contempt, spits back at the officer "the GREEN BAY PACKERS!" Uh oh.

Think calm, picture the sunrise on the lake...

The officer hands me my license and says: "Slow down a little bit."
 
I

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Yikes

Harkening back to a Saturday morning during college days 1971 on old and familiar hilly, curvy, heavily travelled two lane Hwy 10 between Lawrence KS and Kansas City, my wife to be in the passenger seat, we were half way to her parents' house for a "yes, we have been good kids" visit.

Windows down, behind the wheel of my 67 Impala love machine, I was cruising along in my too frequent weekend semi-hung over state. Let's just say I didn't have the loud stuff cranked up on the eight track yet nor was I trying to find the limits of adhesion even though I imagine we were hitting a legal 70 mph. Fully alert, 10 and 2? Maybe not 100%, but otherwise as content as could be given the upcoming agenda at the in-laws.

Just shy of a small town outside of KC, we crest a hill, complete a left horizontal curve heading down the hill toward a rail crossing located at the bottom of the hill and just before a gentle right turn which would take us into town, both curves big enough not to require any foot work. At 70mph, we are maybe 250 feet prior to crossing the tracks which are marked only with cross-bucks, when lo and behold, driving requires all my senses.

The game changer is my hood release bracket gives way and the hood is pinned against the windshield immediately with the compromised hinges/springs keeping it there. It is a very, very big hood.

I stuck my head out the window to spot the centerline and drifted to the right shoulder and lifted off the gas. Realizing I could go only so far to the right til I heard us cross the tracks, I kept it there for a second or two (seeming like an eternity) and after the tracks let the car put two wheels off on the earth shoulders knowing I had to err to the right as the car slowed. A couple of more seconds and with speed down to where I thought we could keep the shiny side up I braked and pulled further right to uneventful stop off the road.

Fully alert at this point, and feeling damned lucky.
 
Ed G

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Back in 72

At the age of 19- Trying to reach the brake and clutch pedal with seats reclined after accidentally starting my 2002 in 1st gear at the drive-in on a cold night. The ride home was even colder since the speaker ripped the window out.

Not sure if it was the wine or bad karma from wife #1.
 
Ohmess

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italiangerman said:
Harkening back to a Saturday morning during college days 1971 on old and familiar hilly, curvy, heavily travelled two lane Hwy 10 between Lawrence KS and Kansas City, my wife to be in the passenger seat, we were half way to her parents' house for a "yes, we have been good kids" visit.

Windows down, behind the wheel of my 67 Impala love machine, I was cruising along in my too frequent weekend semi-hung over state. Let's just say I didn't have the loud stuff cranked up on the eight track yet nor was I trying to find the limits of adhesion even though I imagine we were hitting a legal 70 mph. Fully alert, 10 and 2? Maybe not 100%, but otherwise as content as could be given the upcoming agenda at the in-laws.

Just shy of a small town outside of KC, we crest a hill, complete a left horizontal curve heading down the hill toward a rail crossing located at the bottom of the hill and just before a gentle right turn which would take us into town, both curves big enough not to require any foot work. At 70mph, we are maybe 250 feet prior to crossing the tracks which are marked only with cross-bucks, when lo and behold, driving requires all my senses.

The game changer is my hood release bracket gives way and the hood is pinned against the windshield immediately with the compromised hinges/springs keeping it there. It is a very, very big hood.

I stuck my head out the window to spot the centerline and drifted to the right shoulder and lifted off the gas. Realizing I could go only so far to the right til I heard us cross the tracks, I kept it there for a second or two (seeming like an eternity) and after the tracks let the car put two wheels off on the earth shoulders knowing I had to err to the right as the car slowed. A couple of more seconds and with speed down to where I thought we could keep the shiny side up I braked and pulled further right to uneventful stop off the road.

Fully alert at this point, and feeling damned lucky.
Click to expand...

Damnation. I had a couple of Pontiacs from that era, one so rusted that when I tossed the tire iron into the trunk after changing a flat it went straight through and hit the ground, but that is not one I have heard before.
 
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