Due to the fires mentioned in last week’s post. The freeway
(the normal route I drive for my job) was closed on Monday. So, I had to take
an alternate route. Problem is, the alternate route is over Mt. Hood. Usually
when I take this road, it’s in the middle of the winter and the abundance of
snow combined with the extra miles, along with the slow climb, adds two to
three hours to my run, and instead of making two trips, I can make only one.
This time though, it is summer and no snow—on the road
anyway, the peak of the mountain is nearly always covered. So, I was figuring
the detour would only cost me an hour and a half or so. I’d still be only able
to make one trip but I’d get home sooner. Things went well on the first half of
the trip but on my way back...
Rounding a corner, somewhere up on the mountain, I saw a
bountiful display of flashing red lights shining in the night sky. As I drove
closer, I could see the massive tree blocking the entire highway. With no way
through, the police had coned off the road and were directing traffic onto a
side road. Making the turn, I saw a parking lot that would do nicely to bypass
the tree but it too, was coned off. So, with no other options, I followed two
other semis up this narrow, winding mountain road. The further we went, the
worse the road became. All three of us were becoming a little apprehensive but
still hoping the road would lead back to the highway at some point we kept
going. It wasn’t like we really had a choice; there was nowhere to turn around.
About two miles into our side trip, the lead driver saw a
small road cutting up the hill to the left (a sharp left) and decided this
would be a good turning around point. A good idea—if there had actually been
room. It took only a few seconds for his truck to get high centered on the
trailer’s landing gear. And there he sat, truck jackknifed across both roads,
unable to move. He called a tow truck, and we all waited.
Meanwhile, a couple who lived in the area showed up, wanting
to go down the road. While the other two drivers discussed (loudly) their
rotten luck, I chose a more pragmatic approach—talking to the people in the
car. The conversation proved to be rather helpful!
I learned the road we were on did not lead back to the
highway. But, they said, up ahead about four miles was a pull off where we
MIGHT be able to turn around. When I was hesitant over the “might,” they
offered to give me a ride to see what I thought. After seeing the place, I
decided there was enough room to make the turn—barely.
Back at the blocked intersection, I assured the other two
drivers we’d be out of this mess in no time, providing Mr. High-Centered got
out of the way at some point. Surprisingly, it didn’t take the tow truck long
to arrive. As soon as we had room to squeeze by, the other driver and I headed
on our way.
When we got to the turn around point, the guy in front of me
stopped, not convinced he’d have enough room. But with a small wooden bridge
ahead, a bridge we would crush, it seemed to be as far as we could go. For us,
the road had ended. I should mention that backing down a rough and curvy
mountain road, with the possibility of other vehicles coming up the hill, was
not really a viable solution. Worst-case scenario, I’d do it but I’d really
rather not; we had to turn around. However, about halfway through my turn, I
was thinking backing down would have been a better choice. As you’ve probably
guessed—since I’m back to civilization and able to post to this blog—we made
it. But if the space had been even a couple of inches more narrow, we wouldn’t
have. And just let me add, it’s not the best feeling, jockeying a semi back and
forth with the trailer tires only inches from a cliff. For those who may not
know, when a semi is turned sharp enough, the trailer actually backs up—while
the cab is going forward, which made things a little harrowing. For a brief
moment, I had my hand on the door handle, ready to bail.
But, all is well that ends well, or so I’ve heard. And in a
few minutes, we were headed back to the highway. The tree was still blocking
the road but by this time the police had figured out to route traffic through
the parking lot—yeah, the one I thought would make a great bypass in the first
place. The little adventure, that had cost me an hour and a half, could have
been avoided. I ended up getting home about my regular time. But such is the
life of a truck driver. On the bright side, at least the unplanned excursion
gave me something to write about! ~
Bruce
A. Borders is the author of more than a dozen books, including: Inside Room 913, Over My Dead Body, The Journey,
Miscarriage Of Justice, The Lana Denae Mysteries, and The Wynn Garrett Series. Available in ebook at www.amazon.com/Bruce-A.-Borders/e/B006SOLWQS
and
paperback on Amazon, Barnes & Noble and Books-a-Million. Bruce A. Borders
is a proud member of Rave Reviews Book Club.
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