An instance of driving hijinks, Spring of 2001, by Jesse Hallett

From MemoryArchive

Who: Jesse Hallett
What: An instance of driving hijinks
When: Spring of 2001
Where: Sonoma County, California

I found myself, on night, heading to the school parking lot along with a small group of friends. It was well after dark, so we must have been leaving after some school event. I don't remember exactly what event that was, but the important part is that we were walking towards two waiting cars. Chris's car was an aging, but sporty, sky-blue Mustang. It had four seats, but only two doors. I often thought that the car reflected it's owner by being quick and decisive, but a little unpredictable. Though that could have been the driving. Chris was conferring quietly with Dara.

Josh's car was an aging gray Volvo sedan. It was probably aging to a greater degree than the Mustang, but only slightly. The Volvo's reflection of its owner consisted the upgrades he had made to it. Specifically a loud stereo system, with lots of extra features, and a security system, with lots of extra features, including the ability to start the car automatically via a key-chain control. I had my own car, but we were all going to the same place so we were carpooling - which left Noah and me riding with Josh.

Chris and Dara made a break for Chris's Mustang. This move caught the rest of us by surprise, but the message was clear: this is a race, and it just started. Josh managed to sputter a quick a note of protest before he and Noah and I ran to Josh's Volvo. Chris and Dara had a good head start on us; Josh used his remote start gadget catch us up by a few seconds, but we weren't fast enough: Chris's car drove out of the parking lot well before we could catch up.

Josh kept his car close behind Chris's as we drove down Covey Road. We were on a two lane road, so Josh had no way to get around the Mustang. This race wasn't going to about speed - it was a matter of who got going first. So it seemed that the race might be over before had begun. The three of us in Josh's car grumbled while we started trying to think of something we could do. It was 8 miles to Chris's house on the outskirts of a neighboring town. There were also a number of turns and possible alternate routes, which gave us some hope that we could come up with some obscure shortcut. I could see the gears turning in my friends' heads as they tried to think of something while I did the same. While we thought, all of our eyes were focused on the lit rear-end of Chris's Mustang just in front of us.

All three of us had driven to Chris's house often enough to know what was indisputably the fastest way there: Highway 116 to Guerneville Road, then onto Willowside and Hall Road before a final turn into Irwin Lane. Chris drove the same route twice a day to get to and from school; so he would know better than any of us if there was a faster way. I realized that finding a shortcut that would actually save us time was unlikely. There were no passing zones on that route, nor were there any sections of road with more than two lanes, so there was no obvious way to get ahead.

Then an idea came to me: "There's one way," I said. I explained my plan to Josh. All we had to do was keep up with the Mustang until the critical moment.

There was one stop sign between us and Chris's house and it was on Hall Road. This stop marked a three-way intersection with very little traffic and good visibility, right at the end of a 25 zone. The stop also marked the final quarter-mile stretch before Chris's house. Josh's car was still right behind Chris's when Chris rolled up to the stop. Like a responsible driver, Chris came to a complete stop and checked for cross-traffic. Josh came to an almost complete stop and also checked for cross-traffic. We were in luck: the intersection was deserted. Seizing the opportunity, Josh gunned the engine and pulled across the double-yellow line, zooming right past Chris and Dara. Their shock was evident as the Volvo drove by - by the expressions on their faces and also by their car's lurching start as Chris tried to stay ahead of us. Fortunately, we had Volvo momentum on our side - from a dead stop Chris had no hope of beating us.

Cheers erupted in the Volvo as we pulled in front of the Mustang - then they quickly died and were replaced by a quiet "oh sh*t". Chris had also seen that the intersection, and indeed the whole road, was deserted. He took his own turn driving across the double-yellow, this time to pass us. The Volvo had a head start and still had its momentum, but we realized that the Mustang was probably faster and was rapidly picking up speed. Josh stepped down on the gas to keep our lead.

The two cars were neck and neck when they came to the turn onto Irwin Lane. At this point there are two ways this could have worked out: a right turn, which would heavily favor the Volvo, since we were driving on the legally sanctioned right side of the road; or a much less favorable and potentially disastrous left turn.

Fortune was still on our side: Irwin Lane terminates at Hall Road from the West, making it a right turn for us. The Volvo and the Mustang turned simultaneously, the Mustang - still on the wrong side of the road - losing some ground as it made the outside turn. The two cars were still almost neck and neck anyway as we straightened out for the final approach to Chris's driveway, which was only a few dozen feet away. The Mustang was slowly gaining and it was beginning to look like Chris had the speed and the resolve to beat us there.

Then we saw the headlights coming toward us. I had a suddenly visceral realization how stupid some of these stunts were as images of a violent crash played in my head. Luckily the car we saw was far enough away that there was no immediate danger. But it was close enough to convince Chris to concede defeat and fall in behind our car. We had used a cheap trick and more than a little luck to get where we were, but I at least felt justified after Chris and Dara had grabbed their head start the way they did. Josh's aging Volvo turned once more and rolled into Chris's gravel driveway, victorious.