I’m an idiot. I think I’ve done a good job proving this in the past, but I seem to like driving the point home. My most recent proof was particularly annoying. I damaged my car’s fender and a wheel. Once I remove all of the stupid and embarrassment off my face, I’ll probably write about it. My mistake cost me a significant amount of money, but luckily no one was hurt.
“It is amazing how may drivers, even at the Formula One level, think that the brakes are for slowing the car down.”
—Mario Andretti
I love brakes. I love the pretty colors brake calipers come in, from red to yellow to blue. I love the patterns on the rotors. I even love the blue brake fluid you used to be able to buy[1].
I read over the weekend that actor Paul Walker and his friend Roger Rodas died in a fiery, single vehicle car crash. They were driving a 2005 Porsche Carrera GT, a 612 hp, mid-engine exotic.
What is sad for me is that three children lost their fathers in that crash, and that these two young men are no longer with us.
There are dog people and cat people and bird people and somewhere I’m sure, lemur people. I am from the clan of inanimate objects, car people.
When I am introduced to people I’ve seen at work or at social gatherings, the light of recognition I usually get goes along the lines of, “you’re the guy with the black Subaru STI,” or some similar sort of greeting.
And I respond in kind—“and you’re the red Mazdaspeed 3, right?”
I recently witnessed an accident at a skid pad traffic circle. The handling loop traffic circle was constructed not too long ago at the intersection of M5 and Pontiac Trail (Wixom, MI—see below). A car came into the circle when it shouldn’t have and hit the car I was following. I pulled over to make sure every one was okay and stayed to give my statement to the Oakland County sheriff who took the report.
When I was growing up, I thought my dad was extra popular and well known in our neighborhood. As we would drive through our narrow streets lined with park cars, other drivers would stop and wave to my dad, and he would wave back. At some point, I asked my dad, “do we know that person?”
The reply was always, “no.” So who the heck were all these people?
I felt fortunate to go to this year’s Detroit Auto Show (er… North American International Auto Show) right before it opened to the public, thanks to my car club. And it was free admission for just $10. <sarcasm>Thanks MotorsportReg.com!</sarcasm>