If it’s ‘Life on Wheels’ then we must be in the fast lane, only a day after getting back from the big V, and I was off to my friend’s field (God knows how or why he owns a field) for a three day party. Yeah!
There’s only one way I’m going to be getting thirty miles out of London, and that’s in the whip. It was only my second adventure on a motorway, and it got absolutely MERKKKKKED…I mean…erm…driven on safely and considerably at a speed not once daring to exceed the official limit.
Nah seriously speeding isn’t big… that’s how accidents happen.
With so little expectations of what “The Field” would be like, I must say I was pleasantly surprised. OK, broken speakers meant that the planned “dance tent” wouldn’t be possible, but car stereos soon solved that problem.
Sitting around the blazing fire, with hip-hop blazing from the surrounding automobiles, there was something so relaxing about the old-school feel of the whole situation.
In addition, sleeping in the car was sick! I did take a pop-up tent, but soon realised the error of my ways. I was warmer, dryer, cleaner and more comfortable than I’d ever been camping before.
The next day soon put an end to that.
I had decided not to take my wheelchair, for obvious reasons of electricity-powered machines and big open fields not mixing too well. But two things that do mix, explosively, are cars and big open fields.
If you are familiar with the term “handbrake turn”, then you might know what I’m talking about. Doing skids on a wheelchair is one thing, but this was a whole new ball game, and it’s one of the most fun things I’ve ever done.
With me and two of my friends alternating turns in the driving seat (one of whom had never driven before, and one who’s experience was limited to a couple of lessons), we were literally tearing it up…the grass that is.
As the least experienced driver in the car pointed out, the hand controls fitted in my car (yeah I’m not saying a lot with pedals) give a similar experience to playing Gran Turismo. “Why isn’t every car like this?”
Also, on a less reckless note, the vehicle was outstanding for getting around. Bun the wheelchairs, I was getting from A to B quicker than you can say “Rah look at that sick whip, I wish I had a car like him.”
The journey home was also a new experience, with now not only the distance to contend with but also the pouring rain. However, I think I can safely say that I passed with flying colours.
Admittedly, I did get pulled over by the police on the motorway. Four motorcycles surrounded me in convoy, and my heart began to race. What have I done? Was I speeding? Am I going to get a fine, points, A LIFE SENTENCE?!?!
But when they did pull me over, their sentiments were strikingly different. Without even asking to step out of the car, the officers simply explained his concerns at the “state” of my vehicle, and to check that “This is your vehicle isn’t it Sir?”
Yes it is.
After stepping out of the car at home, I began to understand that my wheelchair isn’t the only means of transport standing out from the crowd.