Black Ice

The danger on icy roads

Black Ice


That year I did such a lot of work on my 1930’s car. I drove from London to a friend’s remote house in Wales where there was enough space to take the vehicle to bits, where I could get expert help and make all the noise and mess I wanted to. All of that is not so easy where I lived in Central London. That went on for many weekends over a period of about two years, and all in all I journeyed about ten thousand miles in pursuit of my ideal.

It was Christmas and most of the work was done. I stayed on till the end of December and, having loaded all my tools into the back of the little white van, I finally set off for home at about four o’clock in the morning on the penultimate day of the year.

Progress was slow coming out of Wales because the roads twist round rivers and hills and there was a fair bit of snow about : nothing to get stuck in but it does slow you down a bit. By the time I was in Gloucestershire it was about six o’clock and still dark.

Eventually the pace of the journey began to pick up and I was travelling at a normal speed. I don’t drive by numbers because I prefer to see only the road ahead and common sense is a better guide to speed than a speedometer or a helpful road sign. If a herd of deer are going to suddenly rush across the road I want to be aware of it as early as possible, especially when it is dark. I just cannot risk taking my eyes off the road.

So there I was getting on home cheerfully watching the road. But then the road was not quite right somehow. Road going forward, me going sideways. This was something new and it actually took me a few seconds to realise that I had completely lost control of the van. We all know the wise precepts about steering into a skid, brake only very gently if at all, don’t accelerate, stay in low gear. All of that was now completely useless and irrelevant. Wherever I was going the van was going somewhere else.

The snow which had fallen in the early hours had frozen onto the road. That’s negotiable even if it is safer to keep off it. But by now the air temperature had risen and the newly falling snow was not freezing on impact with the road as it had been doing earlier. A sudden temperature change meant that it was effectively raining onto the ice, so there was a sheet of water covering the frozen road. This is a rare state of affairs and only lasts for perhaps half an hour before you are back to a road which is simply slushy.

Aquaplaning! I had heard the word before but couldn’t see how it worked since I had driven in London all my life except for those thousands of miles driven on Summer holidays through Europe. Nothing was said about this phenomenon when I took my driving test, and part of my motivation for writing this is that I worry that young drivers are not told and shown graphically what will happen under these conditions. Yes it will happen! It has to happen! A rubber tyre moving over a stream of water on top of ice has simply no relationship whatsoever with the road.

So there I was. Liberated. No need to do anything. There was nothing whatever that could be done. On I went on a long downhill stretch of road, gently accelerating as the van began to turn round. The tools were all piled in the back so the heaviest part of the vehicle was pulled round to face forward. As the vehicle turned round I noticed two things. I was steadily crossing onto the other side of the road, and there was an articulated lorry coming towards me.

In what seemed to be my last seconds my calm and disinterested state of mind gave way. Perhaps a learning point. I didn’t want to die. I screamed “NO!” as I flashed backwards past the rear end of the lorry as it tore the passenger side mirror off. In extremis the emotions and the imagination form a strange blend of consciousness : this was a child being born, thrust uncontrollably out into an alien reality which it passionately did not want.

Then there was the anticipated almighty bang. It really is true that things go into slow motion at a point of extreme crisis. I looked out of the window and saw that I was airborne. The van had hit the embankment and had taken off, first rising up into the air and then descending into a hollow some ten feet below the level of the road.

But as in the finale of Mahler’s Third Symphony the almighty bang was nothing compared to the devastating crash that now followed. The vehicle flew backwards into a copse of trees and a great limb of one of them crashed its way through the rear window, shot past my left ear and cracked the windscreen in front of me. The surrounding branches had absorbed the impact and the damage to the merciful trees would be visible for years afterwards.

I just sat there in stunned stillness and silence. My right toe was hurting and that upset me. I was also upset by the idea that my life as an itinerant tradesman was now at an end since I had no vehicle with which to do my work.

After a few minutes I began to think about what to do next. I sent out a distress call by flashing my lights and indicators to passing traffic, but it was Christmas and twinkling lights ten feet below the road were nothing special.

I got out and climbed the bank. As soon as I stood on the road I understood the conditions. It was virtually impossible to stand on the wet ice.

A lorry driver had stopped and came over to me saying that he had called the police, so there was nothing more to do than to go back and wait in my wreckage. As the light began to appear in the sky I went back up the bank but decided to keep off the slippery road, which was just as well since at that moment a car came along, pirouetted twice, flew off the other side of the road and landed astraddle a stone wall on the opposite side. This was getting unreal. Then very cautiously the police arrived. They called the AA for me and then offered me the comfort of their car. I got in and appreciated the warmth but was then asked to take part in a breath test. I felt trapped and tried to open the door to get out but they had locked it. Some new strange and demonic energy was rising within me. My first thought was to lean back into the corner of the seat, raise my boots up and smash out the window. Yet my intuition told me that doing that would delay my getting home, which was the only thing I wanted to do.

I passed the breath test and with the arrival of the AA was allowed to get out of the police car. The van was winched precariously up the embankment and onto the road ready to be loaded onto the transporter and taken away for eventual disposal.

“Wait a minute” I said “I just want to see if it will start.” So I got into the wrecked van and started the engine. With three of the five doors caved in and smashed glass everywhere I tentatively drove on the now navigable road. The AA man followed me for a mile or so to make sure that I no longer needed his help. I thanked him and set off towards London.

Then came that immemorial magnificence. I had defied death. I was the strongest and most authoritative man on earth. Nobody messes with me. You all keep your distance and acknowledge my superiority over all of you. “All of you. Do you hear?!”

I switched on the headlights as well as the hazard lights and took up centre position on the road overtaking everything and ignoring the panic of oncoming motorists desperately getting out of the way. I paid a sort of lip service to red traffic lights only to make sure that impertinent underlings did not obstruct me. And thus, a tower of strength and a warning example to all humanity I drove proudly all the way home. When I got out of the van at the flats I looked at the damage and smiled with gratification at the proof of my invincibility. Now they can see just who they are dealing with!

I went into my flat and sat down at the desk. Then came another new experience called shock. I collapsed forwards over the table sobbing beyond control. Tears streamed down my face. The feeling was that of a child who had done something irreversibly and terribly wrong. I was inconsolably sorry. I could never be forgiven for the terrible thing I had done. I just sat there. I couldn’t move. I sat there for three days and three nights until a female goddess called Forgiveness came and I made a cup of tea.

So mother tell your children
Not to do what I have done
Black ice is a killer
And it so nearly made me one.