Grateful birthday

*** Not the actual bridge, this picture from  http://vhd.heritagecouncil.vic.gov.au/places/31661


Sunday Feb 2, 1986

My 21st birthday. I had skipped going to Sunday school with my family and was headed to church late, as usual for regular services.

Back then, the way to church went a few miles on a dirt road before getting back on the pavement. I was in my new 1985 Honda CRX Si and driving a sedate 50 or so MPH down the dirt road as usual. For those who have never regularly travelled on dirt roads, they are maintained by grating a high point in the center, with sloping lanes to keep the rain off. Consequently, the best place to drive was right down the middle, especially when driving fast...

One the last features before getting back to the pavement was an old wooden trestle bridge about 30 feet or so above a creek. It was had 6x6 timbers along each edge to keep the dirt on it.  It was just past a blind curve when you're headed the way I was going.

It was no big deal, go through the curve, zip across the middle of the bridge. Done it hundreds of times. This was the first time I met someone going the opposite was through the blind cuve. It was a big car, Lincoln or a Cadillac maybe, and it was coming right down the middle of the road like me.

I jerked the wheel to the right and the other car ceased to exist, at least to me. I had other things on my mind. Funny how I remembered to turn into the skid. Then I had to turn to the left to avoid going into the pines on the right side of the road. Then turn into that skid, then right to avoid the trees on that side.

Then I was on the bridge swerving toward the right side. I knew it was over and wondered what the free fall would be like. Then I was going left and knew I was going over the other edge when the car  stopped, at a right angle to the bridge, facing left. The engine had stopped, guess I forgot to put the clutch in with the other stuff going on.

It took a minute for me to realize I had not gone over the edge. I was sure I had. I finally cranked the car and backed up gingerly, got the car straightened out and pulled over to the other side of the bridge.

I sat in the car a few more minutes, knowing I was safe but still wondering how. I was sure at least one wheel had gone over. I got out and looked under the car. Nothing.
After looking at every detail, I noticed a small piece of plastic behind the right rear strut. Think of a tiny mud flap. It was scuffed in half.

I walked back to the bridge and followed my skids. Four coming onto the bridge, then three, then four again. There was a scrape on the right timber where the undercarriage of the car slid along it for several feet. I was that close...
Luckily, the angle was slight enough that the tire was able to grip the side of the timber and climb back onto the bridge.

The car was fine except for that little plastic bit. I drove on to church. Slower and later than I'd planned.

I don't know if I ever told my parents about it...