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I was 18, driving home with a friend at around 5 am on a back road in Amish country. We were in a tan 1986 Olds Delta 88 Coupe which was also used to relocate (ram) construction barrels and other foolish acts that I'm glad the statute of limitations have expired on. I started to doze off while coming to a 90 degree left; beyond the turn was a decent incline followed by a wood fence and a field.
The shaking from the hill woke me up just enough to yank the wheel and avoid the fence, but not before hitting the sign warning of the sharp turn. The post from the sign slammed down into the ground with enough force to flip the bottom up and impale the catalytic converter, ripping the entire exhaust backward and twisting the u-bolt that held the end of the muffler in place.
There was no way to get the exhaust off without tools, so I drove about 30 minutes to a friend's house with the mangled exhaust, from muffler to cat, hanging behind the car and throwing sparks. Just in case anyone didn't see this monstrosity, the now unrestricted 3.8 sounded like a Harley being revved through a loudspeaker. Once there, we pounded on the door until someone answered, and were granted the use of a sawzall to deal with the u-bolt. 3 blades later we were on our way home, with what was likely the loudest post 1980 Oldsmobile in PA.
When I woke up, my parents said that they didn’t want to know what happened, but I wasn’t allowed to drive it until I made an appointment to get it fixed. It took over 10 years before I finally told them the story.
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