Dad driving memories, the good, the bad and the ugly
Discussion
None - we were never affluent enough to afford a car
Neither of my parents ever learnt to drive, which wasn't a problem really as my dad walked to work and us kids (shock, horror) walked to school.
Many happy memories of holidays involving dragging battered suitcases along station platforms to get the train to Blackpool
Neither of my parents ever learnt to drive, which wasn't a problem really as my dad walked to work and us kids (shock, horror) walked to school.Many happy memories of holidays involving dragging battered suitcases along station platforms to get the train to Blackpool
My dad had his pilot's licence before his driving licence. His ability to spot a paraglider miles away on a hill in his blind spot was quite something. Especially as he was usually doing it while my mum was nagging at him to slow down.
His driving's much more sedate these days, so I do my best to make up for that.
His driving's much more sedate these days, so I do my best to make up for that.
My dads driving was/is awful.
Drove everywhere at 3 or 4 MPH under the speed limit & he always adopted the 'I am correct & every other road user is a t
t' attitude.
Funniest thing was the day we were in his Triumph Herald estate & one of the back wheels fell off - we watched the wheel bouncing down the road in front of us!
He didn't realise it was his wheel until he stopped at a set of traffic lights & car lurched to the right!!
Turns out it was his fault because he hadn't tightened the wheel-nuts correctly.
And when he towed the caravan......... I used to hide in embarrassment because he made it so difficult. A fking nightmare.
Funniest thing though was his face when I told him I had had an accident in his brand new Mk11 Ford Escort.
I told him that the damage was 'not too bad'.
The car was a write off.....
As was his Morris Marina 1.8TC which I somehow contrived to land on its roof!!!!!
Drove everywhere at 3 or 4 MPH under the speed limit & he always adopted the 'I am correct & every other road user is a t
t' attitude.Funniest thing was the day we were in his Triumph Herald estate & one of the back wheels fell off - we watched the wheel bouncing down the road in front of us!
He didn't realise it was his wheel until he stopped at a set of traffic lights & car lurched to the right!!
Turns out it was his fault because he hadn't tightened the wheel-nuts correctly.
And when he towed the caravan......... I used to hide in embarrassment because he made it so difficult. A f
king nightmare.Funniest thing though was his face when I told him I had had an accident in his brand new Mk11 Ford Escort.
I told him that the damage was 'not too bad'.
The car was a write off.....
As was his Morris Marina 1.8TC which I somehow contrived to land on its roof!!!!!
Remember the last holiday |I had with my parents before my mum was killed. We were touring the South Island of NZ in dads pride and joy Holden HQ202 Kingswood. Driving through a gorge and on a tight bend he hit a patch of ice and the car swung out viciously to the right. Fair do's though he caught it incredibly well.
The other memory was when I was very young so its a bit hazy.... Middle of the night driving towards Dargaville to see the grandparents and there was an almighty great BANG under the back of the car (a 1950s FJ Holden). Rear halfshaft had snapped so he coasted to a stop in a local garage and called grandad who (being the local parts manager for Holden) dropped down the workshop, grabbed a new one off the shelf and came out and fitted it with him on the roadside. Don't remember too much about what they did but I do remember hearing an awful lot of new swear words....
The other memory was when I was very young so its a bit hazy.... Middle of the night driving towards Dargaville to see the grandparents and there was an almighty great BANG under the back of the car (a 1950s FJ Holden). Rear halfshaft had snapped so he coasted to a stop in a local garage and called grandad who (being the local parts manager for Holden) dropped down the workshop, grabbed a new one off the shelf and came out and fitted it with him on the roadside. Don't remember too much about what they did but I do remember hearing an awful lot of new swear words....
Spending some of my summer holidays growing up going out with dad in the ice cream van, he did the serving, I took the money and gave people their change, we also had a distribution side of the business and used to go out in the evenings in whatever van he had at the time, usually a Bedford CF or Transit and delivering catering packs of ice cream to independent Wimpys and Aberdeen Steak Houses in the west end, always good fun as at the latter we'd often stop so dad could havea natter and I'd get an ice cream sundae on the house, although free ice cream was never far away !!!
As a 7 year old driving across Dartmoor with my Dad in his brand new 1.6 Cortina. We’d just upgraded from a Wolseley 16/60, so this was like a spaceship. I was stood in the back, between the front seats egging my Dad on to “go faster Dad, go faster”.
He took the bait, and as we could see for miles along the road that wound along the side of the hill, he was using all the road, getting close to apexes, and drifting slightly on the exit of the curves.
As we took a long left hander, he was going a bit too fast, and drifted wide onto the opposite lane. No problem. We hadn’t seen anything coming along the road we could see for miles, so we knew there was nothing coming.
So we were both a little surprised to see a green Porsche 911 (a rare sight in 1977 Devon) coming the other way, also on the wrong side of the road, being driven like a nutter, and taking the apex on the inside. We passed each other, both on the wrong sides of the road, both going way, way too fast.
I will never forget the look on the Porsche drivers face, or the words that my dad used as it happened. Or the 5 minutes afterwards as my dada sat in the lay-by panting.
I was sworn to secrecy, and promised never to tell my mum, a promise I hold to this day.
Makes me shudder every time I think about it.
He took the bait, and as we could see for miles along the road that wound along the side of the hill, he was using all the road, getting close to apexes, and drifting slightly on the exit of the curves.
As we took a long left hander, he was going a bit too fast, and drifted wide onto the opposite lane. No problem. We hadn’t seen anything coming along the road we could see for miles, so we knew there was nothing coming.
So we were both a little surprised to see a green Porsche 911 (a rare sight in 1977 Devon) coming the other way, also on the wrong side of the road, being driven like a nutter, and taking the apex on the inside. We passed each other, both on the wrong sides of the road, both going way, way too fast.
I will never forget the look on the Porsche drivers face, or the words that my dad used as it happened. Or the 5 minutes afterwards as my dada sat in the lay-by panting.
I was sworn to secrecy, and promised never to tell my mum, a promise I hold to this day.
Makes me shudder every time I think about it.
My dad's always driven sheds. I remember him having an A reg Cavalier in the early 90's, which took a shunt from the side by an uninsured driver, which I vaguely remember. The driver who hit my dad promised to pay cash for repairs if my dad didn't call the police. He never got the repairs done 
My dad used to listen to a lot of 90's house music, Haddaway and Bobby Brown to name a couple, along with Oasis and Jamiriquoi (sp?), and listening to that music today makes me nostalgiac from when the same tunes were pumping out my dad's cassette player
My dad used to listen to a lot of 90's house music, Haddaway and Bobby Brown to name a couple, along with Oasis and Jamiriquoi (sp?), and listening to that music today makes me nostalgiac from when the same tunes were pumping out my dad's cassette player
My Dad was not a bad driver. I don't remember any "moments" with him behind the wheel. He got pulled for speeding on the motorway a couple of times, but generally he drove quickly in good cars (mostly - there was a great run of Triumph 2.5PI, Audi 100 Coupe, Audi 100 (a bit dull), XJ6 4.2 and then 735i) with decent music. The music situation deteriorated though. The 70s was Stones, Elton John (when he was good), Beatles and Motown. Later he stopped listening to anything decent and even had tapes of musicals (dire).
Many memorable moments with dad at the wheel. I wouldn’t have the same interest in cars I have today if it wasn’t for him.
I would have been around 14 the time he had his Jaguar XJR. If conditions allowed it was always driven quick, and there was the occasional smoky exit from junctions if no one was watching. However the most memorable moment was leaving the local MOT station after a successful pass.
There’s a roundabout upon leaving the complex of buildings where the station is. Without warning he chucked the car sideways onto the roundabout lighting up both rear tyres. After a full lap of the roundabout he exited still sideways with smoke pouring off the rear end and a big grin on both our faces.
I’ve got many more stories, but I’d end up typing forever. He’s much more sedate now, I suspect much to do with the fact he’s now a driving instructor. Although giving him the keys to my Civic Type R takes him back to his old ways.
I would have been around 14 the time he had his Jaguar XJR. If conditions allowed it was always driven quick, and there was the occasional smoky exit from junctions if no one was watching. However the most memorable moment was leaving the local MOT station after a successful pass.
There’s a roundabout upon leaving the complex of buildings where the station is. Without warning he chucked the car sideways onto the roundabout lighting up both rear tyres. After a full lap of the roundabout he exited still sideways with smoke pouring off the rear end and a big grin on both our faces.
I’ve got many more stories, but I’d end up typing forever. He’s much more sedate now, I suspect much to do with the fact he’s now a driving instructor. Although giving him the keys to my Civic Type R takes him back to his old ways.
So many:
I used to play a lot of rugby/football (GK) and was always filthy when done, dad not wanting to get the cream leather seats in the ovloV 850 dirty he used to sit me in the boot, often alongside my brothers/friends we were transporting.
Another football memory, he was leading a group of dad's back from an away game, gout out of Reigate IIRC and to the M25, annoyed by the procession of cars behind (and with myself and a load of mates in the car) he put the window down, waved bye and booted it at 100+ home...loved his old 850 T5
In the same ovloV (and the preceding 740) we used to trip down to S France every summer, 5 up, fully loaded boot, bikes on the back & roof and a centre top-box, he averaged 95mph....we all swore the front wheels never touched the ground.
Even as a young kid I loved my dad's driving, chilled in the majority but making a brum noise would make him floor it (and me giggle).
Other highlights included him "racing" my mum home after birthday parties/outings, both with full cars.....often with myself and bothers in the boot for extra room....100+ and unrestrained in the boot is fun! However my mum was far more competitive (but lacks some spatial awareness/roadcraft) so would always push things that bit further....
Other funny one (mum this time) was driving back from Manchester, dad in a luton van with a 30 min head start, meeting at a services half way home.....she wouldn't loose and caught him on the entrance....dad never worked out where the 138mph top speed recorded on the 850's trip computer came from....
I used to play a lot of rugby/football (GK) and was always filthy when done, dad not wanting to get the cream leather seats in the ovloV 850 dirty he used to sit me in the boot, often alongside my brothers/friends we were transporting.
Another football memory, he was leading a group of dad's back from an away game, gout out of Reigate IIRC and to the M25, annoyed by the procession of cars behind (and with myself and a load of mates in the car) he put the window down, waved bye and booted it at 100+ home...loved his old 850 T5
In the same ovloV (and the preceding 740) we used to trip down to S France every summer, 5 up, fully loaded boot, bikes on the back & roof and a centre top-box, he averaged 95mph....we all swore the front wheels never touched the ground.
Even as a young kid I loved my dad's driving, chilled in the majority but making a brum noise would make him floor it (and me giggle).
Other highlights included him "racing" my mum home after birthday parties/outings, both with full cars.....often with myself and bothers in the boot for extra room....100+ and unrestrained in the boot is fun! However my mum was far more competitive (but lacks some spatial awareness/roadcraft) so would always push things that bit further....
Other funny one (mum this time) was driving back from Manchester, dad in a luton van with a 30 min head start, meeting at a services half way home.....she wouldn't loose and caught him on the entrance....dad never worked out where the 138mph top speed recorded on the 850's trip computer came from....
My Dad drove us all over the country, most of the time at very brisk speeds. I can't ever remember him having a dodgy moment. He was also an excellent, self trained mechanic and, after he had taught me to drive, spent many of his weekends repairing my cars. Complete engine and gearbox rebuilds with suspension and body repairs, he seemed to take in his stride.
Ooh, first ever time we went over 100mph on a quiet B road in a 1974 Audi 100s Coupe (VDT 497M)
That I'll never forget.
The other was one easter in the 70s. We'd been on holiday to Windermere with our speedboat. It snowed very heavily so we had to leave the boat there. The journey home was all looking out of the side windows as the car rarely was pointing straight ahead. this was in an automatic Peugeot 604 V6 (MET 270P)
The fact that I remember these registration numbers (I'm now in my 50s) is testament to the fun we had in those cars
That I'll never forget.
The other was one easter in the 70s. We'd been on holiday to Windermere with our speedboat. It snowed very heavily so we had to leave the boat there. The journey home was all looking out of the side windows as the car rarely was pointing straight ahead. this was in an automatic Peugeot 604 V6 (MET 270P)
The fact that I remember these registration numbers (I'm now in my 50s) is testament to the fun we had in those cars
Evanivitch said:
Best memory - Driving a Vauxhall Carlton over a series of crests in the Gower and feeling like were catching some air.
That would be the back of Cefn Bryn.It was a tradition at the sixth form I went to that when anyone passed their driving test they had to get four-wheel air over those crests. A couple ended up upside down on the common and one went into the lake.
The powers-that-be have shaved the humps a bit now but they're still there.
My dad club rallied minis long before me, probably the reason we had several. I remember a 1,100cc minivan that'd accelerate to 'empty' and overtook an awful lot of things.
Oh & another good one I missed was my dad getting told off when dropping my sister at college. Seems they didn't like the Carlton doing figure eight donuts on the snow covered drive
Oh & another good one I missed was my dad getting told off when dropping my sister at college. Seems they didn't like the Carlton doing figure eight donuts on the snow covered drive
Hooli said:
Oh & another good one I missed was my dad getting told off when dropping my sister at college. Seems they didn't like the Carlton doing figure eight donuts on the snow covered drive
I was told off when a deputy head took exception to my Dad teaching me to do handbrake turns on a snow-covered school yard in an L-plated car.my father knew nothing about cars, but had a whole string of the best, most powerful volvos going in the 70's, 80's, 90's. Oh and a few years with a V8 3500 rover P6.
there was no sense in him having such cars at all due to his vicar like driving.
he saw no reason to ever go beyond 55 mph on the motorway.
including on the autobahns in germany where his slow driving was actually dangerous. endlessly being overtaken by lorries. In fact he tried throwing me out of the car onto the hard shoulder, on an autobahn as I had spent several hours, counting, out loud, every vehicle that passed us to make a teenage point.
he properly snapped !
he also intermitently drove drunk (not with us in the car) but different times guys......... and not something to be proud of.
as I got older and he had had enough warnings: at about 22 ish I took his car to auction and sold it, after finding it sideways over the pavement and drive one morning (again)
we didn't allow him to drive for some years until he got older and less mental.
one of my best mates at school, his dad was the co-driver with a world rally champion. (no names) I cannot tell you just how awesome he was, his cars and even getting go's in the "then" road legal group B rally cars, before they were banned from being too fast, too dangerous.
being in the back of the fastest version of the road version, whilst he did 140 mph on night time moor roads- WOW !!!
you might think you're a good driver, a driving god, - trust me, whoever you are: you're not !!!!
there was no sense in him having such cars at all due to his vicar like driving.
he saw no reason to ever go beyond 55 mph on the motorway.
including on the autobahns in germany where his slow driving was actually dangerous. endlessly being overtaken by lorries. In fact he tried throwing me out of the car onto the hard shoulder, on an autobahn as I had spent several hours, counting, out loud, every vehicle that passed us to make a teenage point.
he properly snapped !
he also intermitently drove drunk (not with us in the car) but different times guys......... and not something to be proud of.
as I got older and he had had enough warnings: at about 22 ish I took his car to auction and sold it, after finding it sideways over the pavement and drive one morning (again)
we didn't allow him to drive for some years until he got older and less mental.
one of my best mates at school, his dad was the co-driver with a world rally champion. (no names) I cannot tell you just how awesome he was, his cars and even getting go's in the "then" road legal group B rally cars, before they were banned from being too fast, too dangerous.
being in the back of the fastest version of the road version, whilst he did 140 mph on night time moor roads- WOW !!!
you might think you're a good driver, a driving god, - trust me, whoever you are: you're not !!!!
Ah, memories...
Driving along the M5 between Taunton and Burnham on Sea in Somerset (where I grew up) would have been about 1986. Car was a ropey old Allegro in a deeply attractive shade of purple… there were us 4 kids on board and my parents. My dad decided that "the car needed a good run 'cos it helps the engine" and held the damn thing at aprox 95mph for about 20 miles. I can vividly recall various trim parts falling off and vibrating in harmony. I also recall my dad's hunched posture over the steering wheel and the sense of grim determination to go as fast as possible. Car never ran right again after that and my mum was not best pleased as it was 'her' car - she screamed all the way home.
(Don't you miss the good old days when hitting the legendary ton meant something?)
Very dodgy Vauxhall Viva in a fetching shade of gold with contrasting brown interior: driving along the sea front in Burnham in the rain. One of the wipers fell off - not the blade but the whole arm on the driver's side. "Pop out and get that, son. I'll drive home slowly and we'll be fine…" He then proceeded to bounce the Viva off kerbs, at least one other car and god knows what else before admitting that driving in the pouring rain with no visibility was perhaps not the best idea.
Stinking old Citroen CX (the big 7 seater): recall that it had a semi-automatic gearbox which had packed up. My old man changed it by himself on the drive (good effort IMO) and then took the car for a test drive along the M5. Car was returned on a low loader with my sheepish looking dad on board. He admitted after much cajoling that he was "making sure the new box was ok and went a bit too fast and melted all the wiring in the engine bay". Car went to the great scrapyard in the sky not long after this.
He then bought a dodgy V12 Jag XJ-S to replace the Citroen which is just the thing you need to cart 4 kids around in. I remember him doing 120+ in it and the car felt like it was barely breaking a sweat - the fabled "don't tell your mother" clause was invoked for that one. He said it'd do a lot more but a couple of tyres were a bit suspect and he didn't want to push his luck. Excellent car that one: it broke down on average once a week and cost him a fortune to put right, and he promptly sold it for a huge loss as it was terminally rusty.
Proper 'what's health and safety?' bloke, my old man. He's 70 now so has slowed down a bit and turned into a typical pensioner behind the wheel… but I remember the glory days.
Driving along the M5 between Taunton and Burnham on Sea in Somerset (where I grew up) would have been about 1986. Car was a ropey old Allegro in a deeply attractive shade of purple… there were us 4 kids on board and my parents. My dad decided that "the car needed a good run 'cos it helps the engine" and held the damn thing at aprox 95mph for about 20 miles. I can vividly recall various trim parts falling off and vibrating in harmony. I also recall my dad's hunched posture over the steering wheel and the sense of grim determination to go as fast as possible. Car never ran right again after that and my mum was not best pleased as it was 'her' car - she screamed all the way home.
(Don't you miss the good old days when hitting the legendary ton meant something?)
Very dodgy Vauxhall Viva in a fetching shade of gold with contrasting brown interior: driving along the sea front in Burnham in the rain. One of the wipers fell off - not the blade but the whole arm on the driver's side. "Pop out and get that, son. I'll drive home slowly and we'll be fine…" He then proceeded to bounce the Viva off kerbs, at least one other car and god knows what else before admitting that driving in the pouring rain with no visibility was perhaps not the best idea.
Stinking old Citroen CX (the big 7 seater): recall that it had a semi-automatic gearbox which had packed up. My old man changed it by himself on the drive (good effort IMO) and then took the car for a test drive along the M5. Car was returned on a low loader with my sheepish looking dad on board. He admitted after much cajoling that he was "making sure the new box was ok and went a bit too fast and melted all the wiring in the engine bay". Car went to the great scrapyard in the sky not long after this.
He then bought a dodgy V12 Jag XJ-S to replace the Citroen which is just the thing you need to cart 4 kids around in. I remember him doing 120+ in it and the car felt like it was barely breaking a sweat - the fabled "don't tell your mother" clause was invoked for that one. He said it'd do a lot more but a couple of tyres were a bit suspect and he didn't want to push his luck. Excellent car that one: it broke down on average once a week and cost him a fortune to put right, and he promptly sold it for a huge loss as it was terminally rusty.
Proper 'what's health and safety?' bloke, my old man. He's 70 now so has slowed down a bit and turned into a typical pensioner behind the wheel… but I remember the glory days.
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