Ok, it's been a while so I think I'm finally ready to talk about what happened. Warning, this is a very long post.
On the 6th June this year, while driving to Melbourne in the 86 to spend a long weekend with some friends I was involved in an accident. The road was wet and mossy, I approached a sharp right hand corner at about 35 km/h and by the time I realised what was happening the brakes were locked and the car was unstoppable.
The car left the road, scraped a tree, went about 20 meters down a very steep hill and finally impacted a tree. I was, put bluntly :censored:ing terrified. I got out of the car, walked up the hill to the road and stood there in shock for about 5 minutes. I then rang the police, who asked "Is anyone injured? Is there debris on the road? Where you drinking or using drugs?" to which I answered no to all. They then said "well we aren't coming. If you come to realise you need an ambulance, do not hesitate to call again." I then sat down for a moment to settle my head, messaged my mates to tell them I couldn't make it and rang my parents to tell them what happened. It was one of the hardest and scariest things I've ever done. My parents, I should explain, also employ me and I spend 48 hours a week driving trucks in the family business. Telling my dad and boss that I was 400km's away, on the side of the road, with no way home after crashing a sports car on the great ocean road will go down as 5 of the worst minutes of my life.
But I digress, after assuring my parents that I was fine I went on the internet, found a tow truck driver and gave him a call. After I'd explained what happened and where I was he said "no worries, sit tight, I'll be there in half an hour." So that's what I did. On a guard rail, in the middle of a forest while it poured with rain. You're probably asking why I didn't go sit in the car, but honestly, I couldn't bring myself to even look at it. Half an hour passed, then another half, then another. I eventually decided to ring him up and find out what was taking so long. "Oh, sorry mate I went looking for you where you said, but there's definitely no crashed car on that road within 20k's of here." I asked "20k's? I told you I was 40k's away?" and he said "Oh, I though you said 14... That's out of my district mate, you'll have to try somebody else." I went back on the internet, found another tow truck driver and gave him a ring. After making certain he knew exactly where I was I returned to sitting and waiting on the guard rail. By this time hundreds of people had driven passed, seen me there and continued on their way. A motorbike rider however, realised the oddity of a young guy standing on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere and pulled over to see what I was doing. After exchanging pleasantries he asked what I was doing there, I gestured down the hill, he walked over, looked down and asked me simply "did ya 🤬 yourself?"
After talking to the biker for a while he mentioned that he'd slowed down when he saw moss on the road and thought something was seriously wrong when he saw me standing there. He couldn't believe nobody else had stopped and after making sure I didn't need a lift, he jumped back on his bike and went on his way. About 2, cold, wet and miserable hours (made less so by browsing GTPlanet I should mention) later the tow truck arrived. The man who got out and greeted me, Kenny, turned out to be a very caring and nice old man. Once the car was pulled up the hill and onto his truck he asked me, so where were you headed too? I told him Melbourne and he immediately said, "Oh, well If we're quick I suppose we could get you on a tourist bus back there... Do you still want to go to Melbourne?" I decided this was a good option, and he drove to the twelve apostles tourist destination, where I got the only available seat on one of the last buses to leave for the day. For the first time since the accident I actually looked at the car, it's nose badly crushed in and passenger side heavily damaged. I gritted my teeth and tried not to think about it, grabbed my belongings, said a very sincere thank you to Kenny and went on my way.
Considering the circumstances the rest of the weekend went pretty well. I still met up with my friends and we did all the things we had planned, but for me it was a dark time. My cars are a huge part of who I am. I've always prided myself on looking after them, being a good driver and not reinforcing any negative stereotypes about young car guys. I can't really think of a way to finish that thought. After the final farewells, I got a late night bus ticket to as close to home as possible and finally arrived at 2am on Monday morning.
The next few weeks were filled with talking to the insurance company as the car was taken to various repair shops and assessed. Finally, on the third week I got the call "the car has been determined as repairable, but it is not economically viable to do so. We understand that when you signed up for our insurance you opted in to our replacement vehicle program. Before we go any further we'd like to know what colour you want your replacement Toyota 86 to be."
So that was pretty much that. I told them I'd take any colour that wasn't blue (I wanted to be able to remember them as two different cars) and after 2 months of false leads, weird reasoning and some complete nonsense (saying we're waiting for a special truck, then telling me the next day it's still on the boat?) they finally located a car and had it transported to the dealer. I picked it up that weekend and the salesman smiled as he handed me the keys and said, "just don't crash this one, will you."
This is the first time I've actually spoken about the accident to anybody outside my closest few friends and family. It strikes me that what happened was purely down to my inexperience as a driver. Yes, I drive 48 hours a week, but that is almost all on country highways or in town. The accident happened on a road I'd never driven before, of a type I rarely drive, in very bad weather. I wasn't driving fast or doing anything stupid. I wasn't distracted, asleep or intoxicated. I just plain 🤬 up, and I hold myself entirely responsible for what happened.
I've learnt my lesson. I've also paid a price. With the insurance excess and increase in future premiums this accident has cost me well north of $5000. It forced me to a state where I was afraid to spend any money at all for over three months, expecting my car and bill to arrive at any moment. I cut myself off from friends, stopped doing events with the Skyline and left the Zed in the shed, gathering dust as I used the work ute to get to and from where I absolutely needed to go. It also threw me about emotionally quite badly, but this threads about cars so lets continue.
In short, the whole experience absolutely sucked. Sucked. Sucked. Sucked. Sucked. Writing this post to you guys, who I have so much respect for, has been one of the most humbling things I've ever done. I've been trying to do it for two weeks, it's taken nearly 2 hours to write and has still come out as a bit of a mess. If you've made it this far without rolling your eyes and going to look at Heldenzeit's Miata, than I really do thank you.
Tomorrow I have some good news, but I don't think I could type another sentence If I tried. Thanks again.