I’ve been learning about hydroplaning and skids lately while preparing for a driver’s test.
I’ve experienced them, yes, in my decades of driving.
But I never really understood how they worked.
This refresher course helped, but it also helped me see parallels with my spiritual life.
And explained an event from many years ago.
Hydroplaning and Skids? Or something else?
On a January day long ago, I drove across Connecticut’s Gold Star Memorial Bridge, part of I-95, headed west. Eight months pregnant, I needed to buy my toddler a snow jacket.
It had snowed the day before, melted by sundown, and the air still felt frosty that morning.
A friend sat beside me as I drove up the on-ramp headed to New London. My two-year-old sat in his car seat in the Toyota hatchback’s backseat.
The on-ramp dumped our car into the left lane.
I needed to cross the bridge’s five lanes over the Thames River to reach the New London off-ramp.
Turning on my blinker, I glanced over my right shoulder. A large truck came barreling toward us.
(Wikimedia Commons)
I’m from California. What did I know?
I hit the brakes.
The little car skidded across three traffic lanes. Driver’s training from years before kicked in and I remembered not to brake. I took my foot off the brake pedal.
Then I remembered to turn into the skid.
The car promptly swung around and recrossed the three lanes of traffic.
It spun and came to a stop facing the wrong direction.
Our old car’s flywheel didn’t always start when I put in the clutch and turned the key.
What happened? Hydroplaning and skids?
I saw the truck coming and prayed, “Let the ignition flywheel work, Lord.”
Engaging the clutch and shifting into first gear, I turned the key.
Ignition!
I turned on my left blinker (!!!!), and made a deft U-turn into the proper lane..
With my heart pounding and the babe in my womb kicking like mad, I drove across the bridge and exited.
The truck followed us off the bridge. When we reached the traffic light at the bottom of the off-ramp, he indicated I should roll down my window.
“What happened back there?” he shouted. “I was terrified I was going to hit you!”
“Ice? I skid.”
“Oh, yeah! So glad we’re safe!’
The light turned green. He waved, and we continued on our way, thanking God.
I never understood what happened until I took a review class before getting my new license.
Thanks, California Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV).
Hydroplaning and skids
What are they?
I took driver’s training in the last millennium in Los Angeles.
I’d never seen hydroplaning. I had no idea what it was, even when the teacher explained.
Skidding made more sense. I’d experienced that.
But water and the roadway?
Wouldn’t that just make the road cleaner?
(You remember the song? “It never rains in Southern California?”)
What is Hydroplaning?
Along with rocks, trash, and dirt, roads often get oily from the vehicles using them.
When it starts to rain, the oil mixes with rainwater. The car tires don’t have traction with the road, but ride on a filmy mixture of oily water.
California’s DMV explained, “the vehicle skates on a cushion of air with oil and water underneath.”
That’s why driver training tells us to
- Slow down in rain or bad conditions.
- Take your foot off the accelerator, but don’t brake!
- Let the car slow on its own.
- Proceed slowly when you feel the tires regain traction on the road.
Skidding
In both a hydroplaning and skids situation, suddenly hitting the brakes can cause them to lock. The more slippery the road, the less brake pressure needed to send you into a skid.
So, again, in dicey road conditions, slow down. Let the cars honk at you.
Obviously, you know your car. See your manual or check out articles about skidding online.
It’s obviously more complicated than my simple explanation.
The snow had melted sufficiently on the Gold Star Bridge that the roadbed was slippery.
Shocked, I hit the brakes, rather than simply slow down and return to my correct lane.
Hitting the brakes caused my tires to lose traction, sending me into a spin.
When I turned into the skid, the tires began hydroplaning. My car spun in the reverse direction.
I don’t remember what I did, in shock, to cause the car to die.
Fortunately, a good truck driver, and the answer to prayer, got us safely home.
Spiritual takeaway?
We can get so focused on where we’re going that we can miss dangerous situations.
Sometimes we forget basic spiritual guidelines: putting on the armor of God, praying, and listening to God.
Spiritual hydroplaning and skids in the spiritual life can look like this:
- Sinning. (In auto terms, not obeying the law. I had time to get across the bridge. I was in a hurry.
- Not recognizing the need for off-ensive prayer. (We were taught off-ensive driving skills in the Dark Ages.)
- Avoiding responsibility for brothers and sisters. (I’m not the only driver on the road).
- Not staying up-to-date with personal devotions.
My take-away? I need to avoid overconfidence in my driving and to keep renewing and reviewing my driving skills!
And, don’t stop learning how to drive better!
How about you?
Thoughts? Reactions? Lurker?