What crazy stunt did you survive in your youth that you wouldn't tell Mom about?

In My Humble Opinion
1

'Fess up, guys. You’re young, immortal – and you do something insane – something that makes you look back and wonder what the hell you were thinking. Here’s my contribution:

About twenty years ago, in my mid-teens, I followed a few friends in a game of “duck the cars and run across a freeway.”

Not any old freeway. This was a highway called 635 (LBJ) in Dallas. Anyone who knows it is going :eek: right now.

It’s eight lanes across, and back in those days the traffic was moving at about 60 MPH. I rememer looking back one split second after I crossed and seeing a car flying across the lane I was in. If one of us has tripped, we’d be dead today.

Tell me your stories!

2

I remember riding with a girlfriend when we were about 11 in the back of her parents’ old humungo-gigantic station wagon with the tailgate down – sitting ON the tailgate with our feet dangling in the wind – at 70 mph down the freeway!

Damn, that was fun! <insert nostalgic smiley here>

3

Hmmm…well, my friend is planning to take everyone to explore an abandoned insane asylum on her birthday (isn’t exploring an abandoned insane asylum a teenage right of passage or something?) so, assuming I survive that, will be something my mom and dad will never, ever find out about.

Also, climbing into the crawlspace above the gym and auditorium at school…while class was going on.

4

DON’T DO IT!

On second thought – go ahead – that sounds fun! Stay out of traffic, though! :smiley:

5

Which time do you want to hear about?
Looking back all I can say is I hope my guardian angel got overtime and combat pay, it was deserved.
How about this one.
17 years old
Dropped off my friend who lived in the hills (1AM) Racing down a winding narrow I floor my parents car. (Big V-8 Chrysler) got up to 90mph just in time to enter a 45 degree right hand corner. Car does a full four wheel drift to within about 6 inches of the cars parked on the left side of the street. Hung on for dear life and exited the corner alive.
At this time in my life did I have any high performance driving training? Nope, nada, zip.
Needless to say if I had gone 6.1" further to the outside of the turn or if someone had been driving up that street I would not be here to post today.
If when I leave this place, I ever meet that angel I’m buying them a beer or 12. :slight_smile:

6

When I was about 10 I was playing baseball in a friend’s backyard. I fouled a ball backward and over the fence into the neighbor’s yard. The neighbors had a huge, mean looking dog in the yard. Since I had hit the ball, I was elected to retrieve it.

With my buddies and the dog watching my every move, I climbed ever so slowly over the fence. The dog stood stock still on the other side of the yard, watching me warily. Scared silly, I carefully walked over, picked up the ball, and started back for the fence.

With no warning, the dog suddenly charged toward me. Certain I was about to be torn to pieces I froze with fear, unable to move, my friends screaming behind me.

The dog bounded up and began licking my face.

I never told my folks about that because I knew I wouldn’t be able to answer the question, “Why did you climb over that fence in the first place?!”

7

I knew I’d get some amazing stories!

Gassendi - love it, love it.

Rick and Butrscotch – that reminds me of the time I was in the back of a loaded pickup - sudden stop, one guy falls out and lands on his HEAD on the pavement. Visit to nearest hospital followed.

8-week old Siamese kitten is jumping on my keyboard, so expect typos.

8

Pretty tame youth. However; Mr. Maureen and his brother once stole a cop car (details leading up to this were quite interesting, too), and off they went. They were having a high old time, Til they heard “perpetrators armed-shoot to kill” over the radio. They didn’t have any guns, so were quite terrified, and didn’t know what the deal was, and decided to ditch the car. Immediately. In the local rock quarry, which was then full of water. They clipped “their story” out of the newspaper the next day. Turns out, the trunk was loaded with confiscated weapons. They (the cops) didn’t find the car til about a year ago, when they drained the quarry.

9

Pretty tame youth. However; Mr. Maureen and his brother once stole a cop car (details leading up to this were quite interesting, too), and off they went. They were having a high old time, Til they heard “perpetrators armed-shoot to kill” over the radio. They didn’t have any guns, so were quite terrified, and didn’t know what the deal was, and decided to ditch the car. Immediately. In the local rock quarry, which was then full of water. They clipped “their story” out of the newspaper the next day. Turns out, the trunk was loaded with confiscated weapons. They (the cops) didn’t find the car til about a year ago, when they drained the quarry.

10

Pretty tame youth. However; Mr. Maureen and his brother once stole a cop car (details leading up to this were quite interesting, too), and off they went. They were having a high old time, Til they heard “perpetrators armed-shoot to kill” over the radio. They didn’t have any guns, so were quite terrified, and didn’t know what the deal was, and decided to ditch the car. Immediately. In the local rock quarry, which was then full of water. They clipped “their story” out of the newspaper the next day. Turns out, the trunk was loaded with confiscated weapons. They (the cops) didn’t find the car til about a year ago, when they drained the quarry.

11

Watch out. A friend once mentioned one of these stories in front of his mother, literally years after it happened (I believe it involved either a tall tree or the roof, and falling). She whapped the back of his head, called him an idiot for doing something so stupidly dangerous, and told him never to do it again. Note that he was in his early to mid twenties at the time, and the incident happened around age 10 or so…

12

I didn’t do anything like the above.

But in our school, if the student was (ahem) not working to their potential, they got green cards mailed home to them. ( Just a green peice of paper stating that your child was getting a C in whatever.) I have no idea how failing grades are handled nowadays, text messaging?

The parents had to sign the extra sheet and give to said child to return to the teacher, who then stuffed it in their files in the front office.
In all my years of high school, I never gave my mom my green cards, except Math, which is her failing as well, so that was ok. I got them in just about every subject. I just signed her name and took it in. She never knew.

I also did all the permission slips and notes to get out of whatever I wanted to get out of, which I did not abuse.

It helps to mention that freshman year I worked in the front office doing filing and realized that if The Powers That Be Never See My Mom’s Signature To Begin With Then They Have Nothing To Compare It Too so, it was my forgery of my mom’s always on record, but, I can still forge it dead on.

13

About a mile from where I grew up there was an abandoned cement factory. It had these huge silos attached to it. They were probably 80-100 feet high with one being about five feet higher than the other and about five feet apart. They had ladders on the side. My brother and I, having been strictly warned never to go near the factory, climbed them on daily basis.

One time we had climbed up on the higher one and were looking down at the shorter one a few feet away. So we dared each other to jump between them. And did.

Probably the dumbest thing I ever did in my life.

14

Well…I wouldn’t have told my mom, but I got caught. Here’s the story.

I was about 13 and my mom and dad had a rental house not far from where we lived. The renters were going to be gone for a week and asked my mom and dad to keep an eye on things as they had a four-wheeler that they didn’t want to get gone. So they parked it in our garage. And as luck would have it mom and dad had the key.

So I decided that I was going to take the four-wheeler for a small ride around the track at the school after dark while my mom was gone and dad was asleep. Now I had already been given the strict instructions NOT to touch the four-wheeler. Did I listen? Absolutely not. My dumb rebelious ass decided that what they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt. I was only going to be gone for a few minutes.

I fired the thing up and took off. No helmet (stupid, stupid, stupid), I can’t say that enough. I rounded the corner at the school which happened to have some gravel. The thing started sliding and I tried to correct it, but over did so and run into a grey Thunderbird. All I saw was me sliding towards the parked car, hitting the back wheel and a hubcap went sailing over my head.

I regained control and did a big u-turn and didn’t stop. I got in our driveway at home and the thing died right there. So do I stop? Are you kidding I bailed off and was trying to push the thing back in the garage when 2 guys came up and said, " I think that four-wheeler just hit a car". That was it. Game over. My response back, “You know what? I think you’re right”. God what an idiot.

So to try and make this already long story short. I hit a guy’s mothers car that I went to school with. The same guy that cut my hair off in the first grade and his mom had to have a meeting with my parents to explain why their son did this. Now the tables were turned and mom and dad were furious with me.
They had to explain to them why their daughter hit and run on their car. Well since I had no income at 13, I sold my piano which I adored to pay for the damage done to the car and to make my parents a little less angry with me. But after selling it a few months later my dad took pity on me and went out and bought me another piano.

15

A big AMEN to that! I’m not religious or into ghosts and hocus-pocus but given the minefields I navigated I am of the firm opinion that I have a Guardian Angel.

Here’s one of many:

I was driving with a friend down a 4-lane road (two lanes each way) doing about 60 in a 45 zone and neither of us wearing our seatbelt. I’m in the right most lane when some guy turning left zips into the lane next to me nearly sideswiping my car (he had a muscle car and was using that muscle). I was very interested in this guy and trying to make sure he knew just how big an asshole he was and what I thought of his driving. I was paying way too much attention to this guy and not the road ahead of me so I didn’t notice the car in my lane idling along with a flat tire (I saw him much earlier from a distance but didn’t know he had a flat and was barely moving).

Fortunately my friend (who was also checking out the pricks next to me) turned to look ahead and screamed at me to look out. It is amazing how much time stretches out in a situation like this. The following probably only took about 3-5 seconds to play out but to me it seemed like a full minute (really).

I turn to look ahead and I am nearly on top of the car in front of me. I immediately slam on the brakes. Fortunately anti-lock brakes came on this car so the tires didn’t lock up…if they had my friend and I would probably be dead. As it was I came to the notion that death was likely anyway or at the very least severe bodily injury and a future in a wheelchair if I was lucky (not to mention what I was about to do to the poor bastard in front of me). I figured that I’d be lucky to slow the car to around 40-45 MPH before hitting what was effectively a parked car. I may have had anti-lock brakes but no airbags and I knew I wasn’t wearing my seatbelt (nor was my friend).

I considered swerving into the left lane but the prick was still right next to me (him and his friend had been looking at me as well so they didn’t see what I was heading for). To my right was a curb and maybe 10 foot wide strip of grass before trees. I figured my best chance was to steer over the curb and pray I could keep control enough to slide down the grass strip to a stop and not hit the trees. This was the plan in my head and what I started to attempt. While doing this I noticed that this was one big curb. Keeping control was going to be difficult. Even so the thought that really scared the shit out of me wasn’t flaming death. It was facing my parents after wrecking their car. I know that sounds crazy but it truly was what was worrying me at that moment. Even if I kept control of the car that curb was going to tear the bottom of the car to shreds and probably total it.

However, while my conscious mind was still committed to jumping the curb my arms did something else entirely that was NOT my intention. Instead of jumping the curb I squeezed my car between the curb and the car in my lane (which was thankfully just far enough left to allow this). I actually rubbed my right tires against the curb (you could see the swirly pattern it produced on the tires afterwards…I didn’t really know I was doing that when it happened). I could have easily touched the car, now on my left, by just sticking my arm out the window without leaning at all (I didn’t…it was just that close). Mind you this guy was maybe doing 5 MPH tops and I sprinted by at around 40 MPH. I think the guy saw what was coming because I had a good look at him as I passed and is eyes were wide and mouth hanging open in apparent shock…at least so it seemed to me.

That’s it…none the worse for wear. The pricks in the left lane had witnessed this whole thing and were hooting and hollering in appreciation of what they saw…thumbs-up all around. I looked over at my friend who was white as a sheet and speechless before he started freaking out about how we almost died. Me? Oddly I wasn’t perturbed at all. I knew I had just skirted death…if not in the seemingly imminent accident then at the hands of my parents. I was thinking of so many things while this progressed that I never got into terror mode for some reason. When it was over and all was good it seemed too late to lay terror-mode on myself. My friend was troubled by this lack of reaction and figured I had some deathwish/extreme danger andrenaline streak in me.

Needless to say mom & dad never found out and to this day I won’t tell them (this was close to 20 years ago now).

16

Well, I never really did anything really crazy, but when I was working at a movie theater, the lights would burn out over the theaters, and we would have to change them. No problem, right? Well, you know how high those ceilings are in a theater?

Problem solved. We would climb in the catwalks to pull the entire lamp up, and change it while safely perched up above. It seemed like a good idea until we got up there, and realized that the only safe place to walk was the metal beams, about 4 inches wide! I remember slipping once, grabbing onto the beam above me while one foot made a big crack in the ceiling. I never changed another light again.

I also used to be the wacko out on the roof changing the letters on the marquee (marquis–whatever your preference). Sometimes we had to use the very top row, but the only way to do it properly was to climb all the way on top, lay face down, and lower the IRON LETTERS down onto the clips. The managment never knew we did that. That was a long way down.

Oh, and at the same theater, we had balconies that on occasion, my friend and I used to climb over the side, and hang off the edge. The guys we worked with would form a human net, and we would just fall straight down. Pretty damn stupid, but at the time it was kinda fun.

That theater closed last summer. Probably a good thing considering the stunts were getting more dangerous as the years went on.

17

My actual Week of Death-Defying Lunacy doesn’t count because my Mom knows about it; in fact she has seen the videotape of some of it.

But what she doesn’t know about is how I almost killed myself in high school (with a car - big surprise).

My friend and I decided to “scare” another friend of ours. He lived on a farm along a long, straight road. We decided that driving by really fast (at night) with our lights out and honking our horns as we sped by would be just the thing to do. So we line up (I’m the second car), turn off our lights and aim for the light above his mailbox. We go by at about 65-70 mph (I’m guessing - no dash lights with no headlights) and blare the horns. Yeah! That showed him!

Of course we have no plan for what to do AFTER we pass his house. We both independently decide that leaving our lights off is a good thing (so that no one can see us and figure out who it was). So we continue down this straight road at 65 mph with no lights at night. Just as I start to wonder how close I am to my friend’s car in front of me, I see two things almost simultaneously: a set of brake lights directly in front of me followed a millisecond later by a STOP sign flashing by on the right side. I jam on the brakes and steer left to avoid my friend’s car.

The road had ended in a “T” intersection, and we went out through the top of the “T” at about 40 mph, tires locked up and smoking and STILL no headlights. Luckily there was nothing but a cornfield north of the intersection. We explored the first twenty yards of it bouncing and cursing and with nothing but red brake lights illuminating the dirt and corn being churned up. Our last bit of luck was that the ground was dry and we could actually drive out of the cornfield.

The next morning we went back to see where our skid marks started. It wasn’t until then that I realized that we had skidded across a 4-lane state highway, and had been lucky that no traffic was on it when we came blazing through.

Where’s that group of guardian angels? Send them a round on me!

18

When my brother and I were kids, we used to go down to the railroad tracks near my house. At first we just put pennies on the tracks and whatnot, but over time we got bored with such stuff. Casting about for something a little more adrenaline filled, we decided to run across the train bridge.

Train bridge is maybe 100 or 200m across, no side rails, no walkways, no flooring - just rails and ties. It is held up by large posts resembling telephone poles on either side.

First time we walk across real slow. Of course then we have to walk back - a little faster. We get back to first side, no harm done. Brother dares me to RUN halfway out and back (don’t you love big brothers?). Of course, I don’t want to be a chicken, so I start.

About a quarter of the way out I almost trip, get freaked, and slow way down. I figure I can still avoid severe mocking if I walk out halfway and stand on one foot or something. So I keep going. I hear my brother yelling, think he’s making fun of me, keep walking. Then I hear him start to run out behind me. I look back - he’s waving like an idiot. I look forward - there’s a train in the river valley, maybe 100m from the bridge. I had been looking at my feet ever since I had stumbled, and hadn’t noticed it.

I freeze for a critical moment, thinking there is no way I can outrun it, the jump off is way too high, what the hell am I going to do? I think my short life flashed before my eyes. Train hits the bridge, whistle blowing. I decide to get as far to one side as possible. Every few meters there are longer ties and extra support pieces connected to the poles that hold the bridge up. I stand way out on the very end of one of these ties and close my eyes.

I can still remember the feeling of that train thundering past while I clung for dear life to the post. The whole bridge swayed and shook. The sound was deafening. And this was a grain train, so it wasn’t going all that fast.

Afterwards, I couldn’t move. My brother (who had jumped into the dry ditch at the end of the bridge and watched and probably thought “what the hell am I going to tell Mom when I come home without her”) had to come out to me, take my hand, and lead me off the bridge.

This happened over 15 years ago. My Mom found out when I brought it up while we were having dinner 2 weeks ago. She was furious, threatened to ground me (I’m 25 and havn’t lived with her for years), and apparently phoned my brother that night to yell at him too.

There are things you can look back and laugh at. Apparently this was not one of them.

19

Oh man.

What I did one time. I was maybe 9 years old, and the old guy leasing the fields at the time from my grandfather used a big old horse to pull a cultivator down the crop rows. I had been told he was NOT a horse for riding.

However, one afternoon there I was in the corral, which was attached to the barn (stable). No one was around to give me grief. I decided if I wanted to try riding this horse, just to see if it could happen, the horse first needed to be inside a stall. So I walked around him and tried to herd him inside. He would get near the barn door and then move sideways and get around me, so I would try again. After a while, he did a hop and kicked out at me. But he missed by a mile, so I thought nothing of it and persisted. A couple more herding attempts, and the next time he kicked, one of his big hooves came right up next my head. You know that hoof was bigger than my head. And a lot faster moving.

So I decided not to continue. It didn’t seem like a terribly big thing at the time, but looking back, oh man.

20

Jesus, too many. How about getting drunk and seeing how many red lights I could run on folsom buelevard going home? It was a lot and we did it more than once.

Going backpacking alone in Tibet, several times.