This reminds me of the time I fell asleep at the wheel, driving down Highway 25 between Denver and Colorado Springs. I had been up late partying the night before, and after nodding off I suddenly awoke to find myself going 80mph down the the 50-yard wide divider, conveniently full of trees and rocks, all of which i somehow avoided as I totally panicked and spun the wheel, causing the car to nearly flip over and spin fulls 360's several times down the freeway, cars whizzing past me on either side and instant hot death seemingly guaranteed, before finally coming to rest in the center lane facing the wrong way.
I pulled over to the side of the road, panting like this guy with the massive dose of adrenaline that had just been squirted into my body and now had nothing to do. I just sat there breathing hard for 20 minutes as a few motorists stopped to check if I was OK. Once said my wheels were at least a couple of feet off the ground during my spin out, and he asked if I would be OK to get on the road again? Well, I assured him, I certainly won't be falling asleep again anytime soon.
I'm really glad you're ok, but fuck you for driving when you're so tired you fall asleep at the wheel.
Believe me, it has never happened since...once I learned that lesson, I learned it. If I'm ever tired or sleepy I just pull over in a well-lit gas station or parking lot and take a power nap.
because I KNOW I scared those other motorists almost as badly as I scared myself...
I'm glad I didn't die too, although that was one of several such unfortunate incidents in my reckless youth, so much so that by rights I really shouldn't even be alive today. (e.g., also blew up a gas station by accident once)
I am grateful I lived through it all, as is my kid.
oops that was an answer to the previous thread
My senior year in Colorado and I was on acid with friends on our way to a club.
Pulled up to the gas station, put the dispenser in the tank on auto, ran in to get some smokes.
Came out, jumped in the car and pulled out, ripping the whole pump off the concrete island, something sparked, caused a big explosion and fireball that set the upper canopy on fire too. Then the guy inside hit the kill switch but shit was already on fire. I leaped out of the car (noticing my friends were already magically across the street somehow) and in one of those weird adrenaline strength moments ripped the mangled dispenser out of the tank so I wasn't pulling a burning gas pump behind my car. Pulled over to where my friends were and watched it burn until shortly the fire dept came and put it out. I was only 17 at the time and it was clearly an accident, I covered my dosing well enough that after filling out some paperwork and insurance stuff (my parents were not happy later, but this was at an out of state boarding school so they couldn't do much) they actually let us go, and we continued on to the club with amazing drug-fueled stories to tell.
I also like to think I was in some small way responsible for the creation and implementation of the ubiquitous magnetic de-couplers found on all gas pump hoses around the nation now a days.
9.1g when the plane recovered. Wonder if the pilot was just about to regain consciousness before that happened?
hearing his wingman/fac/radio voice (?) start almost yelling "recover! recover! RECOVER!" raised some hairs on my neck
I'm not sure what I saw-- the plane turned upside down and started heading for the ground? And the system automatically pulled up for the pilot who had passed out?
It sure doesn't take long to lose 10 thousand feet of altitude.
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