A few months ago I acquired a little VR6. Not a slow car by any means, but it was not until recently that I discovered how fast it is. Now, I dare say, it must be the fastest of its kind in the country.
As much as I hate to admit to transgressing the law, one fine Sunday I was allegedly bust, not once but twice, doing just over 130km/h on my way to the West Rand. I`m admitting this only because I now have physical proof that mine is the fastest VR6 in the country.
On the N3 South, at the Marlboro bridge, I was snapped allegedly doing 131km/h. Two minutes and 11.56km later, I was snapped allegedly doing 133km/h. The math is not complicated: to traverse that distance in that time, I would have to have been doing 346km/h.
It gets tricky, however, when one tries to work out the top speed that I must have hit in order to accelerate and decelerate between the two points. The consensus is around 400km/h.
The irony of this whole saga is that I only found out about my alleged offences online.
Nicola Mawson
My car, incidentally, has a top speed of around 230km/h, according to the manufacturer. Apparently, to achieve 346km/h, the engine would have had to rotate at 10 500rpm. The rev limiter kicks in at 6 800.
So, chances are that the unfortunate Metro officer managing the trap would have been killed instantly as a piston freed itself from the block, careened through the engine head and out the bonnet. The mind boggles to think of the speed this projectile would have been travelling at by this stage, and there are six of them.
Show me the money
The irony of this whole saga is that I only found out about my alleged offences online. I had checked the Joburg online site after discovering that my change of address had never been captured at the licensing department. This resulted in the new car being registered at the old address.
So, knowing that you can pay fines at an FNB ATM, I tried that avenue. After keying in the reference code four different ways, I gave up. Next stop: the closest police station.
The police person peopling the desk, after a half-an-hour battle to remove a staple from a document with a fingernail, deigned to assist me. Then he stared incredulously at my printout. Clearly, he was unfamiliar with the wonders of the World Wide Web.
After informing me that he was unable to accept payment, he suggested I call in sick and go along to Metro myself. I pointed out this would be like stealing from my boss and elected to attempt to steal my mail from the old post box instead.
And this is how I discovered that my car is fast, very fast. I`m contesting the fines.
Related story:
Check traffic fines by SMS
Other columns:
Out in the cold
Google this
A pocketful of Skype
Share