So yesterday was a little crazy for me. It started off great. Josh and Sara Lowe (Sara is Laura's cousin) were in town visiting. Josh and I got up relatively early that morning to play some disc golf before church. When we came back to the house, I parked on the street since there was not room in the driveway. I proceeded to make chocolate waffles for everyone when the doorbell rang.
It was a neighbor who was out walking her dog. She wanted to know if we owned a maroon Camaro. She had seen it flying down the street without a driver.
You have to understand that the Camaro has a manual transmission. When you park a car with a manual transmission, you should always put it into gear and put on the parking brake. I typically do the former while neglecting the latter.
The place where I parked was relatively flat. I am somewhat sure I put it into gear, but it must not have been good enough. Apparently, my car must have slowly rolled along until it came to a small hill where it picked up a lot of speed. It traveled about 1/5 of a mile down the street before jumping the curb, taking out a storm grate, and crashing into the back of a Ford Bronco.
Thankfully, no one was hurt. Even though the picture below looks bad, not too much damage was done to the Bronco. Just a dent to the side of the bumper and the side panel is a little smashed in.
The Camaro, however, is totaled. I am pretty sure the cost to repair the damages exceeds the value of the car.
Another amazing thing is that basically no damage was done to the engine. I was able to start the car and drive it back to our place (and yes, I engaged the parking brake and turned the wheels toward the curb, just like they teach you in Driver's Ed). One option would be to get a rubber mallet and pound it back into shape, and then just keep driving it until it falls apart. For the meantime, I am just going to ride my bike the 20 miles to work and think about what I have done.