Born with a severe visual impairment, the prospect of driving a car has always been more of a daydream than a reality for me. Back in the spring of 1983, I was deep into my second year at the Royal National College for the Blind in Hereford. This unique institution played host to around 250 visually impaired students, each wrestling with varying degrees of visual loss. Whether fully blind or partially sighted, one commonality united us all: none would ever sit leaguely behind the wheel of a car. To put my own vision in perspective, that August I was scheduled to begin training with my very first guide dog.
When May rolled around, many students scuttled back home for the Bank Holiday weekend. For those of us who found the long journey home impractical just for a weekend, remained on campus. Eager to keep spirits high, the Student Union organised a day trip. Between 40 and 50 of us clambered onto a hired coach that fateful bank holiday Monday morning, all eager to explore Porthcawl, a seaside town a couple of hours away in South Wales.
On arrival, late morning, the coach parked tantalisingly close to a funfair—right beside a go-kart track.. If we had parked even slightly farther away, maybe we would have exercised better judgement. Instead, a heady mix of excitement and, well, uninformed enthusiasm propelled those with some level of functional vision straight toward the go-kart queue.
It's probably worth noting that the participants were all young men; no young women with visual impairments took part. Read into that as you wish.
Caught up in the high spirits, I found myself waiting in line with my more ably sighted friends though somewhat clueless about what exactly I had queued for. I hadn't been waiting long before it was my turn. Perhaps that was part of the problem; if I'd had more time to consider, I might have seen sense and backed out. Initially, I climbed into the go-kart facing the wrong direction and attempted to sit on the steering wheel. To save face, I pretended I was inspecting the engine, though my understanding of engines is arguably worse than my driving skills. Somehow, I got away with it. After manoeuvring myself into the correct position, it hit me: the moment I pressed the throttle, I would be driving blind. How could I forget that I can't see? But in that moment, I did.
My peers had already started their engines and were zealously racing around the track. Within seconds, the inevitable happened—a collision at the first hairpin bend between 4 visually impaired drivers, followed by heated exchanges over who was to blame. Even among we sightless students, it seems road rage is a universal phenomenon, vision or not.
Always sensitive to colours despite my limited sight, I discerned a bright red jacket on Glyn, one of the more visually capable students. Deciding to follow this crimson blur, I sped up, I managed somehow to squeeze by the pile up and tucked behind him as we headed around the bend and down the back straight at top speed. Unfortunately, my cart was faster than his, so, I kept rear ending him. Bang, bang, bang, Several unintended fender-benders and somehow two laps later, I found myself contemplating overtaking him. God knows why, I’ll put it down to my competitive nature and stupidity. Wisdom prevailed, and I dropped back behind him. However, I couldn’t drop back too far, or I would lose sight of the red spot I was pursuing at speed. The bang, bang, bang, continued.
Unbeknownst to me, there was a steel barrier designed to guide go-karts into the pit area at the end of their turn. Glyn, fully aware that I was unaware, abruptly hit his brakes as we rounded the final bend and through his cart in front of mine. I had no choice, but to slam into him, bringing my own kart to a jarring halt.
Now stationary and in a dilemma, other visually impaired students were still zooming past me after they resolved their trackside dispute on either side of my kart. Fearing I'd get run over by speeding go-karts driven by mad blind people, I waited for silence, took my white cane from my pocket, unfolded it, and tapped my way to the side of the track and exit. According to witnesses, the expressions on the faces of the go-kart operators were nothing short of priceless.
That experience, both thrilling and harrowing, marked my first and last venture into the world of driving. Well for now.