T.R. Householder wrote:
I tied the hood on and took of for a cruise without the front shroud. The need
for speed
took over. The thrill of accelerating through the gears was rudely interrupted
by the hood
pealing up and smacking the windshield.
Reminds me of a similar incident many years ago with a chum by the name of
Dave in France
in his Rover SD1. We'd been to the fleshpots of Paris for 24 hours and were
late for the
boat to get back to England. About halfway up the autoroute to Calais, the
Rover was pedal
to the metal when we found ourselves being tailgated by a Renault 5 GT Turbo,
the one with
the side mounted air scoops. Came a downhill bit, and Auntie picked up her
skirts and
veritably flew down the hill. Can't remember the speedo reading but we were
well into
three figures - and the Renault's now even closer, probably about six inches
off the rear
stop lamp.
Dave is amazingly relaxed in his seat when, without any warning whatsoever, the
rear
tailgate of Auntie decides it wants to explore northern France rather than stay
attached
to the car. There's a b****y great bang followed by a gaping hole where it had
been a
second earlier. Dave didn't lift off the gas but looked in the mirror for some
moments and
then said quite laconically - "impressive motors, those Renaults. They don't
half handle
well in an emergency."
We made it to the boat, at the same speed but also lost the boot floor carpet
at a
slightly later stage.
Jonmac
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