Foggy Oversight

Cock

It was a skid; it was for sure not what I expect ABS to feel like. 50m into the near-accident (incident) the rear wheel was doing everything it could to compete with the front, which was now under serious compression from the down force exerted through the forks. There were also 3-poits of sound; rear tyre, front tyre, and my arse. It was all over in 100m. This was lucky really; at that point the Transit was close enough to see the driver’s own efforts to stop and his mouth shape the immortal critique, “cock!”

It was foggy and you may recall my triumph over my fear of fog some weeks ago. I had followed car drivers crawling at unreasonably slow speeds of 30mph in 60mph fog and around the waterworks I had made up some position in the road train of ailing crates by picking them off one by one within what vision I imagined I had of the approaching road in front. The last couple of cars were piled close to one another; clearly a difficult over-take requiring some space. As we entered the pre-Droxford straight I looked deep into the increasingly dense fog and reckoned the road clear after a car or two and dropped a gear to despatch the crowd in front.

I pulled out, hesitated to peer through the white-out and, satisfied all was set, pulled hard back on the throttle. Shadowfax’s mighty 1300 reasons to be cheerful sparked into life and the front came light as we pressed forward and right of the car in front. Condensation began to run down my visor as critical speed was reached to bring on the air-squeegee effect of the full-down screen (about 50mph). Along side and tearing on; just enough room between this and the next car. Two occluded white lights grew out of the fog in front; not far in front; less than 200m in fact and they were gaining in brightness quickly. This was a clear time to abandon the manoeuvre.

Initially confident I could tuck back in behind the car I was overtaking I rolled off the throttle and leaned ready to pull in; 150m and closing. The car slowed at the same rate I was – he was braking to let me in front! Now I was too late to continue past him and the road was too damp to try a lurch over the white line at any speed. 130m.

I applied full brakes (at last! Now I KNOW I can perform an emergency stop) and measured the distance between the cars going in my direction and the van approaching opposite. If all else failed I reckoned (confidently, I’ll add) that as long as the van driver kept his cool and didn’t swing while braking, I’d easily get Shadowfax down his off-side and not clip those on my near-side. 120m and skidding.

Oops! (Artist's impression)

Car to my left finally stopped stopping and Shadowfax’s fairly well controlled slew stabilized and we were able to close in behind their tail lights just as the van honked loudly past.

I wasn’t shaken. My mind was clear. I was confounded only by the feeling of skidding where I expected vibration from ABS but also noted that the rear brake peddle, although “floppy” to my taste still managed to communicate my wishes to the back disk when required.

I was also philosophical and concluded fog is still pretty dangerous, over all. I repeated the van driver’s sentiment. Cock.