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Jalopnik’s Raphael Orlove tells an alternately funny and frightening story of rolling his Baja Bug into the weeds on that site today, and it’s worth checking out. Long-time TTAC readers know that we normally hand out a public shaming for autojournos who crash cars, but in this case there will be a stay of execution, because:
- It’s Mr. Orlove’s own car. A man has a right to crash his own car, should he desire.
- It was a Baja Bug on winter roads, which is not exactly a no-sweat situation.
- It was a Baja Bug on fast, unfamiliar winter roads, which makes it worse.
- As you’ll see in the article, he’s suffered enough.
14 Comments on “Something’s Bugging Me About This Picture...”
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Would like to see the follow up.. Like they say, things usually get worse before they get.. worse. Ouch.
This is hilarious to me because I have been driving on these same exact back roads for years, I’v probably driven his exact route many times. Never had a crash like that though – because I respect the people live and walk along these roads and dont go crazy. Typical to see some city person come up here with no respect and crash. Serves him right, hope he respects these roads a little more next time.
I agree completely Pinz. I was sure I was driving as slowly as I could, but that wasn’t the case at all. The road was much tighter and slippery than I thought. I would’ve known better if I’d even driven the road once before (as I had planned) so I’d know what was over any blind crests, or how tight that particular hairpin is.
One driver passing by mentioned there had been black ice on the corner earlier in the day, so it was crazy to be taking that turn at anything over a walking speed, at least in my Bug.
It sounds like he might have been better off with the local, 15-min-away tow truck. Perhaps the whole thing could have been avoided if no cops were called and the bug started.
I’m surprised he wasn’t arrested.
A fast, unfamiliar winter road is an oxymoron. If it’s winter and you don’t know the road, it’s probably not a good idea to go faster than your sightlines allow. Otherwise, things like sliding off the road and flipping over are pretty much par for the course.
+1.
Still, sounds like this guy’s a young kid (I say from the vantage point of having completed my sixth decade this year) and I just hope he can get the BB back on the road.
The Baja got all fixed up after this, have no fear.
And yeah, brenschluss, anything over walking pace was too fast for that corner that day in my Bug. The locals knew it, but then I didn’t as I’d never driven the road before.
My (very expensive, as you will soon see) mistake.
What? A Baja bug sans 31×10.5R15 BFG All-Terrains ( snow rated I might add ). That ain’t no Baja Bug!
Well, given the well-known propensity of Beatles to snap roll without warning, this shouldn’t surprise anyone who’s familiar with the car’s quirky handling.
In addition, this particular example commits two sins: (1) jacking the car up raises its roll center, making it even more unstable and (2) adding stickier tires compromises the one “safety valve” that exists with stock wheels and tires — they might slide and dissipate some of the roll energy that wants to turn the car over.
Slippery winter roads might actually keep the car from rolling on the pavement; of course, once the car leaves the pavement, anything can happen.
Ah yeah. A strange feeling slowly rolling the car. Mine was a VW Dasher. It was cold. For a week the temperature hadn’t risen above -30C. Cold enough that salt wouldn’t clear the road. Cold enough that the traffic could only clear a stripe down the middle of the two-lane highway, leaving the outside of each lane covered with packed snow and ice.
That was my drive to work, so off I went. No problem. I got to a spot where it was always foggy when it got this cold because of the tailings pond by the highway, and in I went.
Then, in the middle of the fog, there are a set of taillamps. And they’re close. There hadn’t been a car in front of me when I got to the fog, but there it was. I hit the brakes hard, and the car got traction on the left and turned that way. At that point, headlamps shone out of the fog coming at me, so I corrected hard to the right. Overcorrected, it turned out, and the car went sideways, driver’s side leading.
Canadian National Railways, in their wisdom, stuck vertical sections of rail into the ground to protect their crossing lights. I missed the closest one by a good four inches, sideways, and kept going towards the ditch. Sideways.
“I hope I don’t roll over” I though as I did. The car went down the ditch and landed gently in the snow on the driver’s side.
Ok, undo the seat belt, stand on the driver’s door and push open the passenger’s door. Ooops, forgot. Drop the door, turn off the ignition, and back up and out. As I’m climbing out, I see a Sureté de Québec officer, thigh deep in snow coming down my tracks towards the car. “Are you ok?”. “Yeah, no problem”.
So he lets me sit in his car and calls a tow truck. The truck pulls me out. The engine lost no oil, since it leans to the right of the car, and it was still head over crankshaft. The two left tires had lost some air, but were still serviceable. So, I continued into town, aired up the tires at the first gas station, and got to work an hour late.
Less exciting than losing traction and using the snowbank to bounce a car back onto the road. But that was a different winter and a different car.
Seems like mr orlove was taking his lumps from the peanut gallery over there. We know the story ends well and that’s what counts. I owned an audi gt commemorative edition, white over red leather, a bunch of rare addons, the car and which I purchased shrewdly, and put it together into something I enjoyed cruising around in NYC, and shredding back roads out in Pennsylvania, where I had just moved. Driving home late from work on a foggy night, taking a back road I didn’t know, having a deer run into the road just before an unmarked turn had me bouncing off a stout tree, flying several yards, and landing hard enough that I had to get out through the sunroof. Not speeding, just tired on an unfamiliar road. Done.
It was the only car I ever totaled. I didn’t even claim it from the tow yard to harvest good parts from it, as I was just sick from having that happen. It made me not particularly care about having a nice car for awhile, so I empathize with him about having something stupid happen and the after effects.
I still eye crappy coupe GTs every now and again.
I was alone, in my blue Beetle, driving the backwoods roads of Pennsylvania to my girlfriend’s parents’ vacation home. It was late, dark, and I was only vaguely familiar with the route. Sure, I’d come up one time before, but I was in the very back seat of her dad’s Suburban, and she and I were too busy being handsy under the blanket covering our laps for me to memorize every turn on the trip. Luckily, her dad didn’t watch his mirror much. Unluckily, I was now pretty lost. But the promise of her sneaking into the guest bedroom after everyone had turned in for the night kept my right foot planted.
I was going way too fast, the feeble beams of light from the Beetle’s old headlamps barely giving me enough vision to anticipate the curves in the winding 2-lane county highway.
The rasp from the old air cooled engine echoed off the tunnel of trees as I pressed onward. The aftermarket speakers could barely overcome the road and wind noise as they added even more distortion to Tipton’s Gibson Flying Vee as Halford screamed out…
You think I’ll let it go you’re mad
You got another thing coming (You got another thing coming)
Until the tape got to the spot where it always jammed, I knew if I didn’t act fast, the deck would start to eat the cassette. Quickly I ejected it, tossed it in the back seat, and began feeling around in the dark. I thought Dark SIde of the Moon was on the passenger seat. Nope. Maybe on the floor. I reached down, started feeling around. There! Right at my fingertips, I bent all the way down and that’s when it happened.
Around and around and around and over and over my Beetle flew, coming to rest, surprisingly intact, amongst the trees. I got out, took stock of my condition. Bad gash over my eye, sprained ankle, but almost as intact as the car. Limping back to the road, I wondered how long it’d be before someone came along. I also wondered where the heck I’d tell them to take me.
Good to see the ol’ blue Beetle is resting well in its final parking spot.
Didja happen to find that Pink Floyd tape? I’d kinda like to have it back. You can keep the dang Judas Priest.
I remember rolling my ’53 Beetle ” Zwitter ” ~ that sucked .
I hope there’s a link to the second part of this story soon…..
-Nate