What did you do to your parents/guardian's car when you were young?

Football homecoming game my senior year I get permission to go to the after party. Well parties are a little difficult to get going when there is no tap for the two kegs. One of those where everybody thought someone else was picking up the tap. I got sent along with two or three of the girls to see if they could find one. No luck there, but when we went back rather than park on the mine road and walk the quarter of a mile of so back to the bonfire we just drove the '85 Plymouth Voyager. Well, with no beer except for a couple cases that showed up the party didn't last long. Plans were made to have a tap on hand and to keep the kegs on ice until the next night. So as everyone were ready to head back out to the cars a couple people asked for a ride. I said sure pile in not realizing quite how literally I would be taken. Did you know that you can actually squeeze between 20 and 25 people in a 1980's minivan? I got home and went to bed planning on getting up early and cleaning the van. Only to find 8:30 wasn't early enough. My step-mother had beaten me to it and was a bit upset, yet still amused, by the half inch of sand that completely cover the floor. Mostly she wanted to hear the story of exactly how that happened.

Of course I mentioned it was a mine road. That was a fun road. The area had several coal mines. The party was on one of the closed mines. That particular road was about 75 to 100 feet wide and straight for a mile or so of pure gravel fun. I occasionally decided I needed to learn skid control with the Omni I normally drove. The Omni had already died by the time of the home coming incident. One time though while I had the Omni sideways I somehow managed to lodge a piece of gravel in between the rotor and pad. I wondered what the squealing noise was on the drive home that night. That left a nice score on the rotor.

On my 16th birthday my dad tells me we're going out for dinner, ok cool. As we were walking to the car he holds the keys back over his shoulder and says you're driving. WHAT!?!?! Despite my protests he insisted. We were living in an apartment at the time, just a couple months later is when we moved in with my aforementioned step-mother with the subsequent proximity to the nice coal mines. Well, I was a bit nervous and kinda forgot where the break pedal was. I managed to back into a down spout for the gutter on the garage spaces on the outside of the drive. White car, brown guttering the car had a stripe on the rear passenger corner until it died.

Mine road Ok I guess it wasn't that straight but still fun.

Once jumped my parents p71 when my brother and I failed to realize that we were travelling down a road at an excessive rate of speed that had recently been gifted with dips in it in an effort to slow people down. Car bottomed out, got airborne, bounced into the air a second time, and finally came to a rest. Neither of us knew about automotive repair.... and we thought we were screwed. Fortunately, (and unbeknownst to me at the time) them sumbitches is STRONG. My parents never found out until my sister totalled the car some 5 years later. Also... nail polish remover is GREAT at cleaning off marks left by an errant fire hydrant. Then there was the time we tried "drifting" (well, not really. Road was sandy.... ) That poor car held up all to well for its eventual fate.

When they were sleeping I use to take it out . coins under the tires so i knew the exact spot it was parked in.

I remember one time when i took it out in the rain i came back wiped everything down with a towel went upstairs and went to sleep.

Puddle under the car gave me away

Put Dad's '73 Olds Delta 88 (455 Rocket) into a snowbank in the middle of freakin' nowhere, while on a date. Managed to "rock" it out.

Busted a U-Joint doing neutral drops after picking up little brother from the skating rink. Mom & Dad were out of town, so I had to call my aunt to help me get it towed.

Put it in the median on the way home from skiing. Little Brother and his buddies were the temptation for that. On the way out, I was hauling ass. Coming home though, it had been snowing and blowing. Roads were a bit slippery. Smart-Ass and the Minions asked, "How come you're going so slow?" Dumb-Ass and his Pride floored it. Slid left, then right, then looped it and dropped into the ditch. Fortunately, it was early in the season, so the ditch was just whited over and I was able to drive right out of it.

hmmm, I didn't do so many things with my parents' cars. Once i was working for my dad driving a chevy express box van that was loaded to about 11,000 lbs (too much, explained all of the ball joint and wheel bearing failures) and we were driving down a split highway, speed limit was about 55 so i was doin 60 and we came to an intersection with anohter split highway. The light was green so i slowed to about 45 and went through, but it turns out the intersection was crested to match the other road, giving me a nice jump and landing ramp. I've never before or since been so airborn in such a large, overloaded truck. My dad (who was on thephone) stoped to yell, but about 10 minutes later resorted to laughing, which continued into the night.

Oh, and when i was 13 my dad and I were going for a ride in his '01 Bullitt mustang, at which point he pulls into a parking lot and says "you wanna learn to drive stick?" i said yes, but honestly i had only ever driven a golf cart before, so i had to learn to drive AND drive stick. i tell ya, that clutch tricked me and kicked my foot out. My first time driving and i laid rubber. He didn't stop laughing for about 20 minutes!

I guess the only other thing i did was find out their 1987 econoline would break 100 (i guessed it's roughly where the 'P' is on mph at the bottom of the speedo) at which point it keeps accelerating, but starts overheating. It's my van now, but it burns oil. and NOT because of what I did! that was my mother's fault... lets just say it can bury the speedo for 3 hours straight without quitting if, of course, it's kept below 100.

Forgot to mention the time I broke a yoke on the Blue Beast(93? F-150) neon #1 was in the shop(engine swap #2) so borrowing the truck. I drove my best friend up to Syracuse to look at some used car lots. On our way back I'm one block from his house on a one way side street and 'POP, clunkclunkclunk'. Try to pull away from the stop sign and all I get is clunking. I'm in my leather coat and it is raining. I use an open cell phone for a flash light, crawl on the gound and see the back of the drive shaft is on the ground. I'm soaked thru, my coat was nearly ruined, I had shiny happy people behind me honking cause they cant figure out to drive around the car with its 4-ways going.

After 30 minuets a cop shows up and tells me to move it or it will be towed and impounded. I exsplain that the drive shaft is dangling and I have a tow truck already on the way so the officer is kind enough to push the truck with his P71 thrue the intersection and into a legit parking spot.

In another 10-15 minuets my dad finally shows up cursing about every aspect of this situation. I omit the part about driving an extra 100 miles and just come up with some reason I had to drive Jordan home. And I just filled the tank so he never noticed the extra driving.

For the record, no hoonage or abuse was involved in this situation, I was just the poor SOB behind the wheel when that part let go.

I suppose i could add when i was the screwy little brother who stopped my older brother from taking my mom's MKIII supra turbo out for a joyride when my parents were on vacation, so I stopped the hooning. does that count? I liked that car, I didn't want it screwed up. As a result, my mom let me drive it around without supervision from age 18 (no hooning ensued) and my brother didn't regain that privlege until he was like 25. (no,the car isn't that valuable, but my mom knew my brother would kill himself if given the chance and he IS valuable)

dam, all I ever did to my parents car was get rearended by a minivan, their insurance covered everything they damaged PLUS some damage on the other side my mom did.
I'm just glad I wasn't driving my car at the time (79 C&C camaro)

neon4891 wrote: Forgot to mention the time I broke a yoke on the Blue Beast(93? F-150) .

The front U-joint on Dad's 62 Ford pickup let go just as I pulled into the driveway after a brief freeway run. No hoonage involved - Mom was with me - and no real harm done.

I know Mythbusters poo-pooed the driveshaft pole vault. I'm just glad I wasn't part of the database.

I can say that Mom's '74 Valiant (318/auto) was a lot quicker than you might think. I swear I never hurt it ...

poopshovel wrote: I was never allowed to drive my parents' cars. This is probably a good thing. See also: When you work your ass off for something, you take care of it. When it's given/lent to you, it's worth nothing.

Same here, almost. I bought my first car when I was 14. My mom was borrowing it because her car was in the shop, ran it out of oil (it had a pretty massive leak) and seized the engine. So until she saved up enough for a new engine, I borrowed the mini-van, a 1984 Toyota cargo van. There was no rear interior other than carpet, so I had a recliner and a bean bag chair back there. That thing much have been built like a tank, because the wheels were off the ground nearly as much as they were on the ground whenever I would borrow it. I once spun it out on a country back road and ended up in someone's front yard, nearly hitting a tree. The limbs scratched the E36 M3 out of the roof, but luckily I was the only one in the family tall enough to be able to see to roof. After that incident, we drove straight to my friend's house where we washed the mud off of the tires and pulled the grass that was stuck between the wheel and tire bead out with needle nose pliers.

slantvaliant wrote: The front U-joint on Dad's 62 Ford pickup let go just as I pulled into the driveway after a brief freeway run. No hoonage involved - Mom was with me - and no real harm done. I know Mythbusters poo-pooed the driveshaft pole vault. I'm just glad I wasn't part of the database.

A friend had an '84 Accord back in the day. The exhaust was in pretty rough shape. One day she was backing up in a field at a local park (we were having a bbq) when the rear exhaust hanger let go. The tail pipe dug into the ground and it did a muffler pole vault. It lifted the back tires at least a foot and a half off the ground. That was one of the funniest things I have ever seen. She was kind of freaking out yelling "what the hell did I hit!!!", and we were all laughing too hard to answer.

16vCorey wrote: There was no rear interior other than carpet, so I had a recliner and a bean bag chair back there.

Hahaha nice

My parents had a first year Plymouth Horizon ('81?) with a 4 speed. When I was 14 I convinced my Mom to drive with me around the neighborhood streets so that I would be ready when I got my learners permit (15). I kept nagging her to let me do a burn out and she finally gave in. I dumped the clutch and we just sat there in a cloud of smoke as I roasted the front tires.

Used to do handbrake turns in it on both wet and dry streets and play in the high school parking lots on nights when it would rain. You know, to learn skid control... The summer of my first summer job I used to go to work early and shift it from 3-4 at 75 mph and watch the needle spin back around to zero and up (no pin). Finally really injured it going over a cross street one night when I bashed out the oil pan. The oil light came on 1/4 mile from the house and the next morning there was a small puddle and an empty block. Had the high school autoshop weld up the pan and they traded it on an '83 Cressida which I still have. Much hooning was done in the Cressy...

Cut a hard left off a 4 lane road into a subdivision (at about 70) in my Dad's '77 Celica when the right front tire rolled off the rim and the car went into a massive slide towards a concrete power pole. Amazingly straightened it out, missed the pole and took out the whole right front suspension with the curb. Bent the wheel and brake rotor in half and tore the strut out of the tower. Dad was in China on business and was none pleased. Didn't dent a body panel, got the suspension fixed, a new wheel and they amazingly could reuse the tire. Learned two very important lessons that day. 1, always check your tire pressures. 2, never berkeley around with someone else in the car. If I had hit the pole my buddy in the passenger seat would not be here...

My senior year in HS I inherited the college car (a '77 Econoline window van) from my 3 older sisters. Put many hard mile on in including running a few of the Chattahooche Rallye stages (Helen, GA) when we would volunteer at the rallye (coincided with our Spring Break!). Loved dropping it into low and drifting the rear around turns in the rain. Truly amazed I never rolled it. When it finally rusted away sold it to a buddy for the motor. When he pulled the 351 he found that I had broken the motor mounts off the cast block. Good times.

When my kid was 16 he rolled in one night with his buddy Dino, I was working in the garage.

"Hey, knucklehead lemme give you a tip. When you're doing donuts in the field at night, turn the headlights off. You look like frikkin Barnum & Bailey."

Never seen anyone turn so red so fast.....

Lesley wrote: I am eternally grateful that I'm not this guy: http://www.theglobeandmail.com/globe-drive/car-life/cheney/globe-journalists-son-crashes-180000-porsche/article1574334/

His son was 14 and had never used power tools before? Am I a relic or does anyone else find this shocking?

JeepinMatt wrote: His son was 14 and had never used power tools before? Am I a relic or does anyone else find this shocking?

On this site, the concept of a teenager not knowing how to use a tool is baffling, but in real life, it happens. My father is 79 years old, and cannot operate a screwdriver.

Thankfully, my mom can fix anything with scotch tape and a hairpin.

Thought I didn't have any of those, but I could think of a couple. I try to go real easy on other peoples' cars.

My dad bought an '81 Corvette about a month after I went to college and I came home one weekend to help get it back from the dealership (ugh) he took it to to get it inspected. The thing was down one cylinder and had bald, cheap tires from Wal Mart. It was a gloomy morning and had rained all night, so the roads were wet. Not sopping wet, but that "flat black" look where all the oil is coming to the surface. So I'm driving it back and my dad is following me. I go REAL easy around this turn, but the cheap ass tires just break loose and I go through the 3-way intersection in a real nice drift. Countersteered and let off; pulled right out of it. The whole rest of the drive home, I thought my dad would be pissed. I had it all planned out. I would park, then haul ass outta the car and make it up to what used to be my room. I was decently fast. But my dad parks in front of me and I think that I'm screwed. Surprised the hell out of me when he opened the door laughing his ass off and yells "that was cool!"

In reply to JeepinMatt:

No, I'm not shocked and you might be a relic. I probably qualify also so you're not alone. In todays modern society of non-repairable throw away gadgets and computer controlled cars and whatnot, there really isn't a need to learn power tools when you can pay someone else to do it. Besides sometimes you're even money ahead paying someone else when you add the cost of tools that you will probably only use once.

Never jumped my parents car. All this took place in the mid-70's in SoCal. One time I was driving their 65 Chevelle 4-door base edition (6-cyl, PG, no power steering or brakes and brakes were all drum). Was supposed to be at a party with my girlfriend but ended up on a canyon road steaming the windows up. Wouldn't start when we tried to leave. Rolled it down the hill and dropped it into gear and started it. The powerglide AT was never the same after that. Explained to my dad that the party was up on the terrace (housing on the side of the hill, popular in California where this took place) and I rooled it down the terrace road to start it. He wasn't happy but bought it and made me replace the solinoid to fix it.
Later used to love taking out the Impala. 400 sbc, TH400, 4-door tank. Would lay rubber for almost a block. Used to love pulling up to another high schoolers hot rod, they'd laugh and tease me about driving a tank and then I would proceed to beat them to the next stop light.
Thought I got away with replacing a broken headlight on my dad's 69 Datsun 510 Wagon (the car I learned to drive in ) till one day he noticed the lines in the bulb weren't right and the small dent in the chrome hood trim. That's when I learned about alignment tabs.

There are too many stories to tell.

I could loop my mom's '82 Audi 4000 completely around and not touch any of the curbing on either side of the city street.

wlkelley3 wrote: In reply to JeepinMatt: No, I'm not shocked and you might be a relic. I probably qualify also so you're not alone. In todays modern society of non-repairable throw away gadgets and computer controlled cars and whatnot, there really isn't a need to learn power tools when you can pay someone else to do it. Besides sometimes you're even money ahead paying someone else when you add the cost of tools that you will probably only use once.

Heck I'm 22, and already I'm starting to feel a bit old in ways.