The year was 1982;
There I was, 17 years old in a '69 Baja bug I built. 1835cc, coming home late from working as a doorman at the movie theater, late in December, Northern Wisconsin. Fresh 6" snowfall on the road and I'm the only one on the road.
To make my mark in the powder I started fish tailing all the way down the road (looked really cool
), throwing rooster tails. I cross a two lane bridge (separates the U.P. of Michigan from Wisconsin) 1 mile before my home. That's when the idea hits me, make a doughnut on the bridge!! I come to a stop right in the middle, pulling to the right side. Shift into second gear and pop the clutch, round I go making a snow fog in the process. On my third or fourth circle I lost track of where I was and BANG!
I found the edge of the bridges elevated concrete sidewalk with the back tire. :ah:
The right rear tire was cocked at a 45 degree angle.
I quickly got the hell out of there driving the 1 mile to the house...with my rear end tracking to the right like I had crab steering. That, in it self, made some cool tracks in the snow too. Car was down about a week until I changed the half shaft and bent suspension torsion arm. :dance:
Damn that was fun.
