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What do you recall about this seminal point in a spotty teenagers life?... I was taught to drive by my dad at the age of 17 (me not dad) he taught me in his morris minor around the streets where i lived in the 60s/70s. The car had NO power steering and the brakes were lets just say questionable, we would go out for two hours every evening when dad had finished his tea (dinner?) we did this for about a month or so and dad decided "its time to fly solo" completely illegal ofcourse so i stook to the backstreets and i felt like the king of the road driving around unsupervised (stupid when i think about it)...Dad decided it was time to take my test and booked it for a couple of weeks later, i took it in the Morris and passed first time, it felt amazing, Dad gave me the car as a gift and bought himself a Vauxhall Viva, one of four that he went on to own, he loved those cars. After about 6 months the uncool Morris had to go and i bought a Hillman avenger...great days
I'd been driving my dad's car ( Talbot Alpine or Morris 1100 ) for months .. him by my side then I had ten lessons just before my test .. we got some local guy who leased his car for the test itself .. he was a huge 20+ stone guy and the car was also huge .. Vauxhall Victor or Ventura and the guy chainsmoked through each lesson .
Anyways the day of the test I booked the car for the test AND booked him for a lesson immediately before . My weakness then ( still is) was reversing so just before the lesson he told me reverse into this back alley .... I did and crashed into some dustbins !! ( the old fashioned grey metal ones ) .. I was going slow so no damage to the car thankfully .
Now the test ..
Walking up to the car with the examiner he did the eye test .. "what's the registration of that car ?"
I got it wrong so we went closer , wrong again ! He said it was nerves and we went closer and I got it correct !
I was lucky with the test as it was done in an area that I was very , very familiar with .
He asked me to put the car in the opposite direction ... now I'd been told it was called " a three point turn" but the flamin car was very big and wide and the side street was very narrow .
You guessed .. I could only do it in FIVE ... so a five point turn !!
I presumed I'd failed and must have relaxed as afterwards he explained a five point turn was acceptable if it was the safe option .
Just turned 18 had saved sufficient to buy a second hand powder blue Mini. My pride and joy. Could not wait to get lessons. Some time later I decided to take her out solo. I reckoned I was proficient enuff by this time. After all it was just a short hop around our local streets. Mistake!!! I happened to live on what I called the Alps of the Eastern Suburbs...Arden St, Coogee. I chose to take the wrong part of the street.. down..another even bigger mistake. A hundred metres into my ride and the bloody brakes failed. Immediate panic set in. I was not trained for this. In a very short time I gained breakneck speed.. too fast for the hand break to be of any use. My life passed before my eyes as I hurtled down this alpine road..which happened to be about a mile long. I had to hope that the three sets of traffic lites were on my side.. no two were red. Miraculously I negotiated those without being crunched by any on coming cars. I was still not out of the mire even tho I was now approaching even ground..far from it. The handbreak worked but only succeeded in slowing me. I had no choice if I was going to come out of this in one piece I had to think fast. At the bottom f the street opposite Coogee Beach there is a grassy medium strip. I turned the wheel and jumped it. I managed to hit some soft grass and then some dirt before ploughing into some heavy bushes. That and the hand break and I had survived what was a very traumatic event.. so traumatic that I postponed getting my license and did not drive again for six months. I eventually did become a licensed driver and had an impeccable record. But my mind often goes back to that evening many decades earlier when I almost became one of a thousand annual road statistics. Below is a modern pic of Arden St. I started my death-defying journey at the far top of the pic.
What do you recall about this seminal point in a spotty teenagers life?... I was taught to drive by my dad at the age of 17 (me not dad) he taught me in his morris minor around the streets where i lived in the 60s/70s. The car had NO power steering and the brakes were lets just say questionable, we would go out for two hours every evening when dad had finished his tea (dinner?) we did this for about a month or so and dad decided "its time to fly solo" completely illegal ofcourse so i stook to the backstreets and i felt like the king of the road driving around unsupervised (stupid when i think about it)...Dad decided it was time to take my test and booked it for a couple of weeks later, i took it in the Morris and passed first time, it felt amazing, Dad gave me the car as a gift and bought himself a Vauxhall Viva, one of four that he went on to own, he loved those cars. After about 6 months the uncool Morris had to go and i bought a Hillman avenger...great days
My experience learning to drive was very similar to yours tex. I was a little older due to a traumatic near accident I had had earlier. (see story above). I had no dad so my big brother took me for my lessons. I think he drove a Morris sedan. we lived in Cronulla by then and we often cruised the back streets of this iconic Sydney beachside suburb. My brother said I was a natural after about six lessons and ushered me towards the local Dept of Motor Vehicles office the same week for my lesson. I recall I was as nervous as all hell but quietly confident. I almost mucked up a three point turn and my hill starts were not top shelf but otherwise I passed first time in a canter. I drove for three decades and only gave it away five years ago. Know why.. I had never felt comfortable behind the wheel. Obviously my brush with death when still a teen had scarred me mentally far more than I had envisaged.
I mentionall earlier I drove for three decades with an impeccable record. Yes I never caused me to have an accident nor did anyone lese driving> My ony accident was caused by a driverless car. Not a word of lie. I had parked my car on a street with a small incline. But opposite to the offending car. Without a word of lie this bloody other car slipped its hand break and managed to roll across the road smack bang into the side of my car. as it was only yravelling at minimum speed there was not that much damage. The driver paid the costs anyway. He too could not believe how his parked car could have done what it did. How the hell did it do almost a full uey before smashing my old Cortina. My second car after I had sold my lucky Mini.
I mentionall earlier I drove for three decades with an impeccable record. Yes I never caused me to have an accident nor did anyone lese driving> My ony accident was caused by a driverless car. Not a word of lie. I had parked my car on a street with a small incline. But opposite to the offending car. Without a word of lie this bloody other car slipped its hand break and managed to roll across the road smack bang into the side of my car. as it was only yravelling at minimum speed there was not that much damage. The driver paid the costs anyway. He too could not believe how his parked car could have done what it did. How the hell did it do almost a full uey before smashing my old Cortina. My second car after I had sold my lucky Mini.
So i was about 15 (1974) my only experience with booze up to this point had been a sneaky tin of double diamond that i had at a house party, my mates were the same age and in those days it was so easy to get served,so we all decided on a pub to go to (the brown cow) chesters best mild was the drink of choice, i think it was a whitbreads brew made in Manchester, so a deep breath and in we marched on tiptoes and puffing our chests out whilst trying to look 18, my mate jimmy looked the oldest so he was the nominated lamb to the slaughter "four pints of mild please" and amazingly he was served without question, it must of been obvious we were underage , guess they needed the business so we all sat round the table with the regulars sneering at us, hairy assed dockers and builders, so the moment arrived and we all took our first ever gulp of cask pulled ale and it tasted f***** awful, still we drank it down and after entering the pub as boys we left as men and walked home with a swagger in our stride
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