I was up at the early hours this morning, taking John and a fellow classmate to his school ready for a trip away for a couple of days. Taking advantage of the quietness of the streets, I popped into Tesco on the way home to pick up some essentials, and with the warm bed calling me back home, I headed back up into the mountains.
Near here is a long straight road called Crynant Common. It's very high, mostly very damp, and at one end is a nasty kink. And this morning, it was also a dumping ground for someone's diesel. The problem was I wasn't exactly crawling along. I was well within my means, and well within the national speed limit, actually doing about 45-50 mph. The problem is, with this slight kink, the damp road, and the diesel, the car decided to swap ends and go gardening. Hitting the roadside, fortunately there isn't so much of a kerb, more a small bank about 6 inches high. The funny thing is, it started off so slowly, and all of a sudden the car was spinning up over the bank and into the 5 foot high grass behind it. I came to rest some 20 feet into the grass, looking back down the now mud and grass strewn road I had just pirouetted along. The car was still running, and carefully trying the clutch I found I still had drive. I edged the car forward, out of the deep grass, and got out to examine the car. All 4 tyres were OK, 2 of which were now looking like projects from Ground Force with grass and mud in all the nooks and crannies. I had to reach into the wheel arches to remove the mud and detritus from around the wheels, but I crept back onto the road and checked my brakes and all was fine so I headed home. I now need to wash the car, because there's a danger with all the seed all over it within a week it could pass muster as a fair lawn. And before you ask, the car lost control, not me. It was close, mind you.
*extra* An artist's impression on Google Earth!
That Donald Trump handshake gif
4 weeks ago