I’m still a little shook by what I just saw. While leaving Newcomb’s Ranch on LA’s legendary Angeles Crest Highway, I spotted up on a steep embankment, leaning hard to its left side, a Chevy Camaro with all of its airbags popped off. The car looked mostly intact, but then as I kept driving, I saw against the canyon wall a Honda S2000, its front end severely crushed, and in the right lane a Honda Fit. On the shoulder of the road a man — who had apparently been in one of the vehicles — held his arm in pain as bystanders seemingly attended to the situation. I don’t recall seeing fire or smoke.
After driving past the crashed Fit, I pulled off the right side of the road, shocked at what I’d just seen. I wasn’t sure what to do, but seeing that there were many cars heading towards the crash, I walked across the road and began waving down oncoming vehicles, warning them of what was ahead.
The last thing we needed was some unsuspecting speed-racer coming in too hot and hitting either the crashed Fit or the others on the scene. The cars slowed down, and many turned around and left:
While slowing down traffic, it dawned on me that, though there were people at the scene, and plenty of folks had driven past since it was 4th of July and the road was super busy, it’s possible none had been able to reach the police due to lack of reception near Newcomb’s Ranch. So I used the iPhone satellite texting feature to text my wife, who called 911. I then sent some messages to emergency responders directly.
In time, a helicopter arrived, and after that, fire trucks and ambulances and police cars.
This was a horrible crash, and part of me wishes I had done more, especially learning later from a Twitter account that tracks police calls, the driver was trapped (presumably the driver in that S2000). Should I have stopped and helped those already on the scene get this person out? Or should I have tried doing…something other than redirect traffic and call police? I wish I had. It took me too long to process what was going on, and by the time I did I wasn’t sure whether to go back, and I figured those already on the scene had it under control, but why make that assumption? It had happened recently; maybe I could have lended a hand? Or maybe that would have just made things even more chaotic. I don’t know. I’m a little flustered at the moment and I have a lot of feelings flowing through me, a big one being regret, a bigger one being sadness.
Those poor people in those cars — the S2000, the Fit, and the Camaro — they will be in my prayers. I feel so bad for them.
Before this, the day had started off well; I’d met some friends at the local cafe — them in their lightweight sports cars and me in my i3. I got some tea and a croissant, and we headed up the hill. I kept up with the Miatas/Lotus/BRZ for a while, but after the forklift in front of them pulled over it became apparent that my i3’s 175-section front tires weren’t giving me nearly enough grip at the nose, my lack of a rear sway bar meant I was leaning like a Pisano tower, and the powertrain kept derating (presumably for thermal reasons).
That’s all to say: I got dusted.
But it was still fun, and when we arrived (well them, then I) at Newcomb’s Ranch, I couldn’t help but be amazed at just what an incredible movement two people had built here on this sacred spot. Watch this beautiful piece our partner Galpin’s video team put together a few months back– it’s truly moving:
Just look at all these cars!:
It was such a beautiful start to Independence Day, but on the way back home to my wife and baby boy, I saw the aftermath of that tragic crash, and upon arriving at my abode I picked up my boy and hugged him for 10 minutes straight.
He, surprisingly, didn’t cry. He just stayed there in my arms, quietly, and when I took a good look at his big baby eyes, he smiled. And it was at that moment that I was reminded that, as great as cars are, and as fun as it is to drive them quickly around canyon roads, they are machines that mean nothing in comparison to people. I’ve said it many times before: The best thing about cars, and the reason I’m in this field in the first place, is that they connect us with others in a way that only a handful of other things can (food, music, sports). Cars are a glue that bonds so many of us together, and especially in the current polarized political climate, that is immensely important. Part of being part of the amazing car community is taking care of one another, and putting both your safety and the safety of your fellow car-enthusiast first. There is no apex you can hit or beautiful exhaust sound you can hear or excellent shift you can make that is more important. People come first.
As a car journalist, I cover car crash news all the time, I dig into IIHS/NHTSA statistics, I look into crash test results and modern safety tech, and what has become increasingly obvious to me is that cars can be as big a source pain as they can be a source of joy. Far too many people — famous ones like George Patton, Princess Diana, James Dean, Paul Walker, and so many who don’t make the front page but who mean so much to our families and communities (40,000 people annually just in the United States) — pass away from motor vehicle crashes. It’s too damn many.
And it’s a reminder that, as comfortable and quiet as modern cars are, even 40 mph isn’t as slow as it may seem behind the wheel. As shown below in the IIHS Small Overlap Crash video, at that moderate speed, a heavy car carries enough kinetic energy to cause serious damage to a vehicle’s safety cage:
Please be careful out there. Never underestimate how dangerous cars are, and remember that driving fast on public roads is incredibly risky and, often times, just not worth it.
I’ve decided I’m never going back to Angeles Crest. The number of cars on Angeles Crest was a recipe for disaster today, and though I’m not going to say it could have been worse given the severity of the crash scene I saw, I will note that, upon my descent a motorcyclist came into my lane while passing a car, and then a bicyclist crossed the road on the back side of a tight turn I was driving through. Both were close calls. On top of that, while looking around to see if there was any news on this crash, I found so many stories about horrible crashes on that road (here are just three of many)…
And the last time I drove Angeles Crest, it was with Griffin and Mercedes, and I remember driving back down the hill and seeing emergency responders driving by, and I was worried sick. I called the police station and asked, and they told me there was a crash on the road. I drove home worried that something had happened to Mercedes or Griffin. Luckily, they were OK, but someone else was apparently involved in a crash that day.
Between my experiences and the road’s seemingly permanent place in the grimmest sections of the newspaper, I’ve decided I’m never going back up Angeles Crest. I never thought such a beautiful road could be so ugly.
