I don't know the facts surrounding these two incidents, so I won't judge. Even so, I suspect that excessive speed and / or following too closely were involved.
I was coming home on the southbound 405 from Huntington beach when I came upon the aftermath of two mishaps, both within 10-15 minutes of each other. The first involved a current-generation Mustang convertible. From the back it looked really nice. Bright silver with a black top, tasteful black aftermarket wheels, and four chrome exhaust tips. It had paper dealer plates on it. The driver, a young college-looking fellow with a neatly trimmed beard, seemed to be going awfully slow- even for the right lane. When I pulled up next to him I saw why. The hood was folded into an upside down v-shape and he was struggling to see over it! The grille was gone, and the plastic front bumper cover was all gouged up. Strangely enough, both front fenders looked untouched.
The second was a ( formerly ) mint 1953/54 Chevy Bel Air two-door. Two-tone white over light blue with sidepipes, whitewalls, and chrome Astro Supreme rims. The hood was crimped and the grille bashed in. A guy was sitting in the driver's seat talking on his cell phone. The car still looked driveable but was munched pretty good. Everyone who's ever driven one of those old postwar American cars knows how awful the brakes were on those things. Why Detroit chose to saddle those huge lumbering behemoths with such lousy stoppers is beyond me- especially since the superiority of disc brakes was known even then.
I felt bad for those two guys. Having your ride get trashed is always a bummer, but when it's a fancy niche vehicle you just bought, or a lovingly restored classic, it's doubly painful.
I was coming home on the southbound 405 from Huntington beach when I came upon the aftermath of two mishaps, both within 10-15 minutes of each other. The first involved a current-generation Mustang convertible. From the back it looked really nice. Bright silver with a black top, tasteful black aftermarket wheels, and four chrome exhaust tips. It had paper dealer plates on it. The driver, a young college-looking fellow with a neatly trimmed beard, seemed to be going awfully slow- even for the right lane. When I pulled up next to him I saw why. The hood was folded into an upside down v-shape and he was struggling to see over it! The grille was gone, and the plastic front bumper cover was all gouged up. Strangely enough, both front fenders looked untouched.
The second was a ( formerly ) mint 1953/54 Chevy Bel Air two-door. Two-tone white over light blue with sidepipes, whitewalls, and chrome Astro Supreme rims. The hood was crimped and the grille bashed in. A guy was sitting in the driver's seat talking on his cell phone. The car still looked driveable but was munched pretty good. Everyone who's ever driven one of those old postwar American cars knows how awful the brakes were on those things. Why Detroit chose to saddle those huge lumbering behemoths with such lousy stoppers is beyond me- especially since the superiority of disc brakes was known even then.
I felt bad for those two guys. Having your ride get trashed is always a bummer, but when it's a fancy niche vehicle you just bought, or a lovingly restored classic, it's doubly painful.
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