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Originally Posted by crankyazz
prolly all the truckstop food and then passing gas in the truck and having to sit in my own stench... LMAO
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Good one crankyazz! Hope you have some visine eye drops on hand to cool those burning eye balls from the putrid sensation of your truck stop dinner. I've got a visual.
What used to scare me most about driving?
1) Having to do laundry at a truck stop while on the road. Then after a month I realized most drivers don't do laundry anyhow and always wear the same filthy clothes so the laundry mat is virtually always available.
2) Taking a shower on the road. How does that work? Then after awhile I noticed most drivers don't take showers so the showers were always available to me as well.
3) Those drivers with the echo boxes on the cb. What'd he say? Was he talking to me? I didn't understand a word he said. Must not have been about me then I guess. He sounds like he's in my truck but I don't see him in here. Whats he talking about? How can anyone even understand this guys psychobabble? Then I realized my cb had an off knob and that took care of that. No more fusible from the guy who thinks his echo box sounds good.
4) those drivers with the waaaay out of alignment bumper lights. Whose stupid idea was that anyhow? I bet less than 10% of the drivers who have those ridiculous halogen road lights even know they aren't lined up right. One light is burned out or it's shining right into your eyes or mirrors, -OR- the lights are so out of whack from the driver plowing into some snowbank while trying to make a corner to fast and jumping the curb in some industrial park somewhere. Their motto is as long as they can see who the hell cares if nobody else can see.
How'd I solve this dilemma? Now I just don't drive at night. :roll:
So as you see, there is always a solution.
On a more serious note, my fear was Mother Nature. Specifically ice and fog. You learn to always respect Mother Nature no matter what.
I remember many years ago I was running across I-80 going west and it was blowing and snowing like a banshee as I filled up at the Sapp Bros in Cheyenne, Wyoming. Trucks were parked everywhere but there was still a few of us who didn't want to sit. So we motored on.
Get back on the freeway and there is a cop getting ready to close the gate on the freeway to go over Elk Mt. I asked him to let me through (one of those "hot" loads you know) so he did. I was the last one. Holy moly what did I get myself into I thought. I couldn't see the guys tail lights in front of me. Where was the road? Snow was blowing sideways, swirling around about 50 mph, couldn't see 10 ft in front of me and that's no exaggeration.
Trucks jackknifed in the median strip, off to the right in the ditches. Lots of them. Nobody around. We were the only ones driving. We couldn't stop now, we had to keep trucking. It took us 7 hours to get to the other side of Elk Mt. By then it felt like 20. I was completely drained, frazzled, exhausted, and stressed out from those 7 hours. Course my boss was pleased since I made it thru and none of his other trucks did. But I aged probably 10 years from just that one trip over Elk Mountain and I learned from then on to err on the side of caution when a police officer is getting ready to close the highway due to poor weather conditions and to never underestimate Mother Nature.
My trip in the fog out in Santa Maria Calif going east will have to wait for another time. My fingers are tired and I keep forgetting I'm not writing a book here.
