The Saab-Rocket being towed home on a borrowed trailer. Germany 1993.
The death of the Saab Rocket
Germany, 1993. It was an '89 Saab 900 SPG (Special Performance Group). I loved that car. It would happily go forever at 120mph+ and you could put the back seats down and it would sleep 4 (a friendly 4).
The SPG's were Saab 900 Turbo's that had their turbo tweaked up for higher boost, a tight and lowered suspension, and an aero package that reduced lift at high speed. It was the Saab Rocket that gave me an appreciation that at speeds well over a 100mph, horsepower is nice, but handling is king. The Saab Rocket's handling made you feel relaxed and in total control as you weaved thru traffic on the autobahn at 140mph.
On many occasions I was cruising along at 100mph and a Porsche, an 8 cylinder BMW/Mercedes, or some Italian exotic, zoomed by me in the autobahn's fast lane and it was "game on." It was wonderful to be able to press the accelerator to the floor, watch the boost gauge peg, and race in pursuit.
Tom Rylander, my roommate for most of the Germany years, and I were returning from one more hugely fun weekend, skiing in Austria.
My philosophy of driving in Germany (not necessarily Tom's philosophy, but who listens to passengers) had been, "only pussies drive under 100."
Suddenly we hit a rain squall north of Munich that came out of nowhere. I backed off of the accelerator a bit and our speed started dropping under 120mph. Then we hit a lake. The Autobahn had turned into a great sea. The Autobahns, designed for higher speeds then American freeways, aren't cambered to allow water to run off the sides. The Autobahns are flat. So if they get a lot of rain in a hurry, they are more likely to form large ponds then American freeways.
We
were in the left-most lane passing thru 100mph. It was Sunday evening and traffic was sparse.
Tom was asleep in the passenger seat. As we hit the standing water, I held the wheel straight.
That's when the Saab Rocket rotated a bit left. There wasn't much grass median.
The guard rail was pretty close. We
were heading straight forward. It was just the car wasn't quite pointed straight
forward.
With surprise and alarm in my voice, I exclaimed "DUDE!" as I turned into the
rotation a little bit. The steering input had no effect at all. We were
traveling straight forward, but we weren't pointed quite forward. I felt utterly
helpless.
The word "DUDE!" is burned into Tom's memory forever. I will always feel badly about that.
With the car rotated, the left front caught traction on the edge of the grass median, and we were whipped around in an eye-blink. The rear end exploded into the guardrail and ski gear burst out like shrapnel. We continued spinning down the autobahn, incredibly not hitting anything else or getting hammered by any follow-on 2 ton Mercedes'.
The spinning eventually ended. Facing on-coming traffic.
Simultaneously Tom
and I exclaimed "HO.....LEY.....SHIT!" in three drawn out syllables.
Some good lessons were learned that day. I learned just how tenuous a car's
traction can be. Your control of your 3000-6000lb car or truck is dependent on
tire footprints with about as much area as your hand. So when you're doing
80mph, you've a total tire foot print about the size of a dinner plate. Consider
all the things that your car might need to do in a hurry to avoid a problem. It
behooves you to be very aware of just how dependent you are on not much
traction. Take it for granted at your peril.
The other good lesson was a good lesson about hydroplaning, a threat that I'd
never really taken seriously. There had been all sorts of times, in the years
prior to that crash, when I'd been hauling ass through the rain and dark,
foolishly sure that I had infinite traction and nothing bad would happen. Since
that incident, in the rain I'm very aware of how much tread depth I have, how
wide my tires are, and the car's speed.