87 Turbo II
11-04-2007, 09:58 AM
This was on Rx-7 club, but I'd love to share it with you if you're into a read (THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME).
Originally entitled:
"Rx-7 got hit-and-run - and I f*cking caught the guy!"
The craziest story of my entire life has unfolded in front of my own eyes tonight.
At about 9pm, my friend Katie that lives in my apartment complex on the floor below mine called me with some of the worst news I could . "Your car got smashed up by someone - you need to come downstairs", she said. I felt my stomach turn instantly - "Katie, please tell me this is a ****ing joke." I desperately begged. "I'm sorry, I wish I could say it was - come downstairs OK?" she replied.
I walk down to the parking lot and see this:
http://pages.sbcglobal.net/wompa164/Laffo/hit/mycar.jpg
http://pages.sbcglobal.net/wompa164/Laffo/hit/car2.jpg
"What the ****." is the only thing I could muster as I walk around my car to inspect it. I spotted Katie and approached her - "OK, please fill me in.". She proceeded to explain that 4 witnesses (all friends) saw the accident happen first hand and pointed me towards them. I went over and introduced myself and started asking them questions about the accident and what they saw.
"It was messed up, man. Someone in a truck backed up into your car once, went forward, and then floored it back into your car again. Your car slid forward from the impact and hit the car in front of you. We saw everything and started chasing after him to get his license plates, but he went like 50 through the parking lot to get away and we couldn't get close enough to see his plates - I'm sorry."
About a million things are running through my mind at this point; "Did it seem intentional?" I asked. "Absolutely - he floored it straight back the second time. Is there anyone that has it out for you?" they responded. "No, I don't have bad blood with anyone that I can think of" I said. "What can you tell me about the car?".
They told me it was a dark blue Ford F150. I kept pressing them for more details, and they were more than happy to continue providing them. The truck was an 'FX4' edition with exhaust and a lift. The rear window was adorned with a white sticker in the shape of Texas. They couldn't tell me much more, but I was beyond thankful for such a detailed description. The police arrived and I gave them everything I could for their report. All 4 of the witnesses gave their testimony to the officer and their contact information. The police said they would notify all cruisers and that I could come get a copy of the report in the morning to submit to my insurance.
I was seething with anger and horribly depressed at the same time. I knew the odds of finding the guy were pretty much non-existent, especially because I couldn't think of anyone that would want to do something like that to me. Well, I'm not on good terms with my friend that lives down the hall from me, but we were practically inseparable during the fall semester and no major drama occurred - I just stopped hanging out with him because he turned into an arrogant burnout ******* and started acting like a **** towards me.
Anyways, after thanking the officer for coming out and giving my utmost gratitude to the witnesses, I drove to my buddy John's house, an (ex)rotary owner and very good friend. I told him what had happened and expressed his contempt and gave me his sympathies. I asked him if he would mind driving around the city with me to help look for the truck, both of us well knowing that our chances of finding the guy driving around were approaching 1 in 1,000,000,000.
He jumped in and we drove around for the next hour and a half, keeping a very close eye out for any trucks that matched the description. We found a few that were pretty close, but none of them were really spot-on with the details that the witnesses provided. After realizing the futility of my situation, I decided to pack it in for the night. "Alright, it was worth a shot but we're not going to find anything tonight - do you mind if I take you home?" I said to my friend, dejected. Almost before I could finish my sentence, a blue truck crossed into my peripheral view in the lane beside us.
Gently squeezing on the brakes, the back of his truck came into view. My eyes immediately locked on the white sticker on the lower corner of his rear window - it was in the shape of Texas. I looked at the side of his truck - an 'FX4'. It was lifted up and it had exhaust. I turn to my friend John, "Hey, doesn't that truck look exactly like the description the witnesses gave?" I asked. "It matches up perfectly.." he responded.
After my eyes noticed the trailer hitch on the back of his car, there was no longer a shred of doubt in my mind - that was the mother****er. The damage to my rear bumper had a very unique shape to it, and it matched the profile of his trailer hitch exactly. "Dude, look at his trailer hitch!" I half-screamed at my friend. I cut over into his lane to get behind him, and he immediately SLAMS on his brakes. Too bad for him, RX-7s are equipped with fantastic 4-pot brakes from the factory and my car grabbed the pavement, coming to an immediate stop.
"Ok, this guy is ****ED." I said to my friend as I slammed my shifter back into first gear. About 50 feet up the road he tries the exact same maneuver - with the exact same results. I've got him trapped - with 400rwhp, 4-pot brakes, Potenza S03s and the wrath of the rotary gods surging through my hands and feet, he was ****ed. In a COPS-esque display of desperation, he jumps over the curb on his right and starts driving across the Texas A&M campus lawn, cutting across a 2-mile wide field. I realized I couldn't follow him across the field, so I pulled a u-turn and watched his brake lights fade off.
After watching the direction he was taking across the field, I predicted where he was heading. I turned onto the street running parallel to the field and redlined every gear at full boost in attempt to catch up with him. I spotted him exiting the field, where he cut across both directions of traffic - right back into my lane about 500 feet in front of me. Desperate to lose my tail, he quickly darted onto another street. It was the worst street he could have picked - a 3 mile long straight away.
Nearly bouncing off the limiter as I rev-matched perfectly to 7,000RPMs, I downshifted into second gear and entered the sweeping turn. I squeezed on the throttle and counter-steered slightly as I exited the corner, going wide-open throttle and hitting full boost as soon as I eliminated my slip angle. After 10 seconds, I was less than 50 feet from his bumper. I told my friend to call the police, because I had a perfect view of his license plate.
He called the police and read them the plates as we continued our chase. The truck turned onto some narrow backroads, and after 3 minutes of hopelessly trying to outrun me, he only had 1 option left: go somewhere I couldn't. He jumped his truck into a huge ditch and crossed over into the other lane of traffic, and I wasn't going to risk damage to my car to continue our epic chase.
I already had gotten his plates. The police sent out two officers to update our statements and verified that the plates matched his vehicle.
Through some of the most bizzare detective work imaginable, I played connect-the-dots and 4 hours later found myself 2 inches away from his parked truck.
http://pages.sbcglobal.net/wompa164/Laffo/hit/truck.jpg
Originally entitled:
"Rx-7 got hit-and-run - and I f*cking caught the guy!"
The craziest story of my entire life has unfolded in front of my own eyes tonight.
At about 9pm, my friend Katie that lives in my apartment complex on the floor below mine called me with some of the worst news I could . "Your car got smashed up by someone - you need to come downstairs", she said. I felt my stomach turn instantly - "Katie, please tell me this is a ****ing joke." I desperately begged. "I'm sorry, I wish I could say it was - come downstairs OK?" she replied.
I walk down to the parking lot and see this:
http://pages.sbcglobal.net/wompa164/Laffo/hit/mycar.jpg
http://pages.sbcglobal.net/wompa164/Laffo/hit/car2.jpg
"What the ****." is the only thing I could muster as I walk around my car to inspect it. I spotted Katie and approached her - "OK, please fill me in.". She proceeded to explain that 4 witnesses (all friends) saw the accident happen first hand and pointed me towards them. I went over and introduced myself and started asking them questions about the accident and what they saw.
"It was messed up, man. Someone in a truck backed up into your car once, went forward, and then floored it back into your car again. Your car slid forward from the impact and hit the car in front of you. We saw everything and started chasing after him to get his license plates, but he went like 50 through the parking lot to get away and we couldn't get close enough to see his plates - I'm sorry."
About a million things are running through my mind at this point; "Did it seem intentional?" I asked. "Absolutely - he floored it straight back the second time. Is there anyone that has it out for you?" they responded. "No, I don't have bad blood with anyone that I can think of" I said. "What can you tell me about the car?".
They told me it was a dark blue Ford F150. I kept pressing them for more details, and they were more than happy to continue providing them. The truck was an 'FX4' edition with exhaust and a lift. The rear window was adorned with a white sticker in the shape of Texas. They couldn't tell me much more, but I was beyond thankful for such a detailed description. The police arrived and I gave them everything I could for their report. All 4 of the witnesses gave their testimony to the officer and their contact information. The police said they would notify all cruisers and that I could come get a copy of the report in the morning to submit to my insurance.
I was seething with anger and horribly depressed at the same time. I knew the odds of finding the guy were pretty much non-existent, especially because I couldn't think of anyone that would want to do something like that to me. Well, I'm not on good terms with my friend that lives down the hall from me, but we were practically inseparable during the fall semester and no major drama occurred - I just stopped hanging out with him because he turned into an arrogant burnout ******* and started acting like a **** towards me.
Anyways, after thanking the officer for coming out and giving my utmost gratitude to the witnesses, I drove to my buddy John's house, an (ex)rotary owner and very good friend. I told him what had happened and expressed his contempt and gave me his sympathies. I asked him if he would mind driving around the city with me to help look for the truck, both of us well knowing that our chances of finding the guy driving around were approaching 1 in 1,000,000,000.
He jumped in and we drove around for the next hour and a half, keeping a very close eye out for any trucks that matched the description. We found a few that were pretty close, but none of them were really spot-on with the details that the witnesses provided. After realizing the futility of my situation, I decided to pack it in for the night. "Alright, it was worth a shot but we're not going to find anything tonight - do you mind if I take you home?" I said to my friend, dejected. Almost before I could finish my sentence, a blue truck crossed into my peripheral view in the lane beside us.
Gently squeezing on the brakes, the back of his truck came into view. My eyes immediately locked on the white sticker on the lower corner of his rear window - it was in the shape of Texas. I looked at the side of his truck - an 'FX4'. It was lifted up and it had exhaust. I turn to my friend John, "Hey, doesn't that truck look exactly like the description the witnesses gave?" I asked. "It matches up perfectly.." he responded.
After my eyes noticed the trailer hitch on the back of his car, there was no longer a shred of doubt in my mind - that was the mother****er. The damage to my rear bumper had a very unique shape to it, and it matched the profile of his trailer hitch exactly. "Dude, look at his trailer hitch!" I half-screamed at my friend. I cut over into his lane to get behind him, and he immediately SLAMS on his brakes. Too bad for him, RX-7s are equipped with fantastic 4-pot brakes from the factory and my car grabbed the pavement, coming to an immediate stop.
"Ok, this guy is ****ED." I said to my friend as I slammed my shifter back into first gear. About 50 feet up the road he tries the exact same maneuver - with the exact same results. I've got him trapped - with 400rwhp, 4-pot brakes, Potenza S03s and the wrath of the rotary gods surging through my hands and feet, he was ****ed. In a COPS-esque display of desperation, he jumps over the curb on his right and starts driving across the Texas A&M campus lawn, cutting across a 2-mile wide field. I realized I couldn't follow him across the field, so I pulled a u-turn and watched his brake lights fade off.
After watching the direction he was taking across the field, I predicted where he was heading. I turned onto the street running parallel to the field and redlined every gear at full boost in attempt to catch up with him. I spotted him exiting the field, where he cut across both directions of traffic - right back into my lane about 500 feet in front of me. Desperate to lose my tail, he quickly darted onto another street. It was the worst street he could have picked - a 3 mile long straight away.
Nearly bouncing off the limiter as I rev-matched perfectly to 7,000RPMs, I downshifted into second gear and entered the sweeping turn. I squeezed on the throttle and counter-steered slightly as I exited the corner, going wide-open throttle and hitting full boost as soon as I eliminated my slip angle. After 10 seconds, I was less than 50 feet from his bumper. I told my friend to call the police, because I had a perfect view of his license plate.
He called the police and read them the plates as we continued our chase. The truck turned onto some narrow backroads, and after 3 minutes of hopelessly trying to outrun me, he only had 1 option left: go somewhere I couldn't. He jumped his truck into a huge ditch and crossed over into the other lane of traffic, and I wasn't going to risk damage to my car to continue our epic chase.
I already had gotten his plates. The police sent out two officers to update our statements and verified that the plates matched his vehicle.
Through some of the most bizzare detective work imaginable, I played connect-the-dots and 4 hours later found myself 2 inches away from his parked truck.
http://pages.sbcglobal.net/wompa164/Laffo/hit/truck.jpg