I have occasionally received comments on my uncanny ability to drive a vehicle in reverse at breakneck speeds and still manage to maintain control. And, while I'd like to take total credit for my ability, there have been several influences on my driving skills. However, the influence on that particular skill came from one of my teachers.
I went to a private high school that owned some land up in the mountains. Many years ago, the students and faculty built a log cabin out there and, ever since, students would go out to the "mountain campus" to do repairs on the building, shore up the eroding hillside under the deck or just to get away from it all. One of the teachers, Dr. Michaud, loved to go to the Mountain Campus as much as we did and frequently organized trips up there. And, because the regular bus driver was usually needed on campus, drove one of the school buses out there as well.
The way leading up to the Mountain Campus building from the road was two tire-sized paths winding through trees and underbrush up a hill to finally open into a mini-courtyard in front of the building's main entrance. Even in a small car, there wasn't much room to turn a vehicle around much less a full sized school bus. Other drivers would inch down the hill until the got to a point where they could safely turn the bus around and continue on their journey facing forward. Doc Michaud, however, didn't.
Doc Michaud reveled in his ability to back down that hill, often at speeds that would redline the buses engine. Sometimes, just for fun, he'd back down the entire path until he hit the road. And never once did he so much as graze something other than some overhanging branches (although he did get the bus stuck in the mud once but he certainly wasn't the only one that day). It was an awesome sight to behold. Even more so when you were in the bus with him at the time.
I've always admitted that ability and was quite proud of myself that I seem to be able to duplicate it. So when I back up at 20 MPH into a parking space and get right between the lines without scratching the cars on either side, I think of Doc Michaud and his expert tutelage.
And he was a pretty good science professor too.
I went to a private high school that owned some land up in the mountains. Many years ago, the students and faculty built a log cabin out there and, ever since, students would go out to the "mountain campus" to do repairs on the building, shore up the eroding hillside under the deck or just to get away from it all. One of the teachers, Dr. Michaud, loved to go to the Mountain Campus as much as we did and frequently organized trips up there. And, because the regular bus driver was usually needed on campus, drove one of the school buses out there as well.
The way leading up to the Mountain Campus building from the road was two tire-sized paths winding through trees and underbrush up a hill to finally open into a mini-courtyard in front of the building's main entrance. Even in a small car, there wasn't much room to turn a vehicle around much less a full sized school bus. Other drivers would inch down the hill until the got to a point where they could safely turn the bus around and continue on their journey facing forward. Doc Michaud, however, didn't.
Doc Michaud reveled in his ability to back down that hill, often at speeds that would redline the buses engine. Sometimes, just for fun, he'd back down the entire path until he hit the road. And never once did he so much as graze something other than some overhanging branches (although he did get the bus stuck in the mud once but he certainly wasn't the only one that day). It was an awesome sight to behold. Even more so when you were in the bus with him at the time.
I've always admitted that ability and was quite proud of myself that I seem to be able to duplicate it. So when I back up at 20 MPH into a parking space and get right between the lines without scratching the cars on either side, I think of Doc Michaud and his expert tutelage.
And he was a pretty good science professor too.