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Upside
It was wide open on Route 101 this afternoon. The traffic heading north from the Golden Gate bridge was doing about 60. The truck carried me up the headlands slope past Alexander Avenue to the tunnel, then down the Waldo Grade toward Sausalito. There’s a canyon to the west right there, a cliff of dark ophiolitic rock covered in pampas grass, and I was thinking about other days when fog has rolled down that canyon like a river.
An Escalade passed me at about 85 or 90. I glanced as it went by, the driver on his phone.
I possess rank prejudice against people who use cell phones while driving, and people who speed on mountain roads in SUVs, and he was both of those things, so I eased up on the gas as he passed.
So I was only doing about 50 when he fishtailed and spun his ass-end into my lane about seven lengths up, and then
just
stopped.
In my lane.
We were in lane number two, and the lane to our right was empty. I made a lane change. This lane change involved a Δv perpendicular to the axis of the Tacoma, which Δv was significantly in excess of the recommendations of both the Toyota Motor Corporation and the National Traffic Safety Board.
Which means I did a little fishtailing myself. I managed not to hit the Nokia Dementia sufferer in the Escalade, as (thankfully) did the sedan a few lengths behind me. But of the two or three very long seconds in which I worked to regain complete control of the steering, approximately one of those seconds was spent with the truck’s nose pointed at what suddenly seemed an insufficient guardrail, with a steep hill beyond it and some roofs of expensive houses a hundred feet below.
Clearly, I’m fine. I am not a Scott Eric Kaufman kind of blogger for whom terrifying accidents mean only a momentary delay in posting. The truck is fine. But after I straightened out there was suddenly a weird metallic flapping noise coming from the back end of the truck, and I got mad. Just what I needed: an inconvenient vehicle problem. There was an exit with a wide spot just ahead and I pulled off.
A few years ago, when I suddenly found myself spun around and tumbled and then hanging upside down from the seat belt in my late lamented 1994 Nissan pickup at Barrett and San Pablo avenues in Richmond, an absurd calm came over me. I methodically turned off the engine, inventoried body parts for new pain including the all-important spine, wiggled fingers and toes and (very, very carefully) head, then came up with an exit strategy that minimized exposure to the broken glass that covered every square inch of available horizontal surface, all the while pondering whether it made more sense to call home or work first. I remained preternaturally calm until I watched them tow my beloved and well-traveled truck away, the last time I saw it ever. So it did not occur to me to be particularly surprised at my lack of immediate fright or shock this afternoon.
But pulled off at the Spencer Avenue exit, crouching down to find that the metallic noise was probably due to the soda can that had wedged itself into the right rear tire as I skidded on the shoulder, I realized that I was unutterably relieved to have found a trivial, inexpensively repaired fix for the sudden noise from the truck, which I had been upset about.
Said realization was punctuated by raven laughter from a nearby blue gum.
Sure, I’m glad I didn’t die or — worse — get horribly injured. I have a picnic to go to this weekend, and a desert trip next weekend, and other fun travel plans in months to come being considered. I have unfinished conversations to continue, music to listen to, books to read. Plus it really would have made the week difficult for the folks at work, me dying on deadline and all.
But the big relief today came not from failing to plunge off the cliff, but from finding out I didn’t have to deal with a flat tire. Because that’d have just been annoying.
You want a capsule description of my interior landscape this year? There you have it.
Posted by: Chris Clarke
Note: A database glitch in 2008 ate a bunch of archived comments. Don't be offended if yours isn't here, or confused if the conversation seems disjointed. Thanks!
I started to think about what would have happened if you hadn’t slowed a bit just before the Escalade’s fishtail but will just say that your “rank prejudice” could very well have saved your life. Thus endeth today’s lesson in defensive driving.
By: By Charles on 2007 10 16
I sure am glad you are around to write about the experience, I’ve have the same distain for drivers with cell phones and have had like experiences.
I remember the interest you had in a reed at Bergen swamp many years ago and thought you might be interested in this article* I just read.
Take care, dr
*
http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2007/10/071012084128.htm
By: By David Roycroft on 2007 10 16
Chris: good to hear you’re okay. Did the cops ask you about the eejit with the cellphone, because I figure they need to KNOW he was talking on this phone and doing 90.
Anyway, I’m glad you didn’t die too because I’m really looking forward to this picnic.
By: By Pica on 2007 10 16
Yikes! Very glad you’re ok! And I’d hold on to that predjudice if I were you, rank as it is.
By: By Stephanie on 2007 10 16
yikes. i used to want a paintgun to shoot at SUV drivers like that. in my more mature years, now i try to stay the hell away from them. this has the positive environmental effect of putting me on public transit more often. it is the only positive environmental effect i can find for assholes driving SUV’s while carrying on vigorous conversations.
if they step forward to take credit for being environmentally friendly, i say we pelt them with all the biodegradeable, odiferous, slime-covered material we can find in our collective compost piles and other locations. and then sentence them to a million hours of community service work in an ER.
By: By kathy a on 2007 10 16
I possess rank prejudice against people who use cell phones while driving
It’s not prejudice if you’ve ever done bicycle commuting in a big city. It’s one of the reasons I gave it up.
By: By Rob G on 2007 10 16
that distaste-triggered slowdown: very adaptive behavior. natural selection has declared you fit to survive.
when heedless folk blow past me on the highway, i wish them godspeed, and hope their accident happens far enough ahead that i can avoid it easily.
maybe i’m starting to drive like a little old lady. maybe i’m adjusting to the loudness increase in the stupid. natural selection hasn’t seen fit to pick me off yet, either.
By: By siriosa on 2007 10 16
Jesus, glad to hear you’re alright. There’s something about those feelings, though, like the one that convinced you to slow down. A similar thing happened to me on a Louisiana highway a few years back—one of the reasons I found the first episode of The Riches so disturbing, actually, because there’s something about seeing a car plunge into a bayou that’s just ... different from anything else. But yes, my point, glad to hear you’re alright, and continue to listen to your rank prejudices, as they serve you well.
By: By SEK on 2007 10 16
Hey, I’m glad you didn’t get a flat! ;-)
I’ve been keeping track (just mentally) of every thoughtless, stupid and/or dangerous driving manoeuver I’ve witnessed for the last couple of years. Mind you, I take the subway to work (Boston), so I’m only on the road on the weekends, but cellphone idiot-manoeuvers are leading non-cellphone idiot-manoeuvers by about 35 - 1.
I kinda hate to say it, but I have a bit of a theory about it. Normal people just don’t have very high standards, so they make mediocre drivers. They are also a bit lazy and careless, so they use the phone while they drive to kill time and accept the fact they will be only half paying attention while they drive a few thousand pounds of metal, rubber and plastic down the road.
Of course, I also think that everyone should have to drive a heavy car with mediocre brakes for a couple years to cure themselves of tailgating (not partying before a ballgame, mind you, but following the car in front of you too closely). It worked for me. Let me tell you, old Volvos and Saabs can’t stop anywhere near as quickly as new Hondas, Toyotas or BMWs.
Chris, your “system check” while hanging upside down reminded me of just what I did when I woke up in the hospital after being jumped for my bicycle. I woke up, said to myself, “I think I’m in the hospital and it feels like I should be here. Hm, I must’ve been jumped for my bike.” And then I did the system check - wiggled all my extremities, nothing broken, then used all the muscles in my face to open my one swollen-shut eye (the other eye exists, and was fine) to make sure it worked, which it did. I have a 6 hour black out period (well I was asleep for most of that, so I don’t know how long it would’ve lasted if this had happened at 11am instead of 11pm), but I figured out by my head injuries that I had been struck in the back of the head in the attack, and hit the front of my head on the ground, much harder. Fun with brain contusions! Actually, one of my first thoughts was “at least they didn’t use a gun.”
By: By mroberts on 2007 10 16
The “systems check” must somehow be innate. I had a bad fall some thirty years ago (for extra credit, my Mom and Dad got to watch me bounce off a couple rocks) and as I came to, lying on a rock, I did the same thing. Everything hurt, but it all worked all right (except for that broken ankle part).
By: By Charles on 2007 10 17
i have always been wary of that hill, going up or down. my teenage foster sons (long time ago, long story) spun out a volkswagen just barely into the tunnel, thus avoiding hitting the side of the portal.
work? deadline? i missed that part. hope it’s a good gig.
By: By dread pirate roberts on 2007 10 17
Put me in for glad you didn’t die. Or get a flat tire.
By: By Kat on 2007 10 17
Whoosh. Scary… but after the fact. My tendency is to go into a weirdly calm state, deal with the situation (like when I encountered several I-beams lying across the freeway near San Bernardino, and had to not only slow down and stop, but also BACK UP in the fast lane to get through them), and freak out about it later.
And I hear you about the smaller things being more annoying in some ways than the life-threatening ones. I can’t imagine how my life would be affected if I had a major injury in an accident, but I know damn well what a pain it is when $300 is unexpectedly added to the month’s costs, or when an afternoon otherwise intended for fun is used up waiting for the tow truck.
One thing I remember being told when I was learning to drive was that cars are huge deadly hunks of metal that can kill other people if the driver is careless. Now, I will not say that I’m a perfect driver; I have been known to eat food, insert tapes, and change sweaters while driving on long road trips. But at least I’m not so stupid that I don’t forget to wait until long empty stretches, keep one hand on the wheel at all times, and limit the amount of eyes-off-the-road to the utter minimum. Basically, I know the limits of this stupid human machine I happen to inhabit, and hopefully I’ll continue to adapt as it ages and changes. Meanwhile, talking on a cell phone for longer than it takes to say “I’m late, I’ll be there soon” or “I’m in the car, I’ll call back” is just plain dumb.
(Oh, and don’t get me on a rant about things like DVD players in minivans. I have this theory that people who don’t learn to handle boredom creatively as kids (as on long roadtrips) are the ones who can’t walk one block without having to have a friend attached to their ear.)
By: By Rachel Shaw on 2007 10 17
What I recall from my near-miss was a strange elation.
I was driving in a rainstorm and probably driving too fast for the weather/road conditions. As I drove past a wind-break, I suddenly began hydroplaning and going very fast in a kitty-corner right-wise direction toward the ditch. The ditch happened to be very tall, due to the natural hills in the area. Fortunately for me, I hit no one and nothing. I was able to drive out of the ditch with no vehicle problems and a rapidly beating heart.
What I remember was when I was heading over the lip of the road into a ditch so tall I didn’t know what was at the bottom was a sense of “Woo hoo! Whee hee! Here I go!”
Looking back, I know that driving a car with a very low ground clearance is probably what kept me from rolling several times, as any Explorer or similar SUV would have done. I truly despise SUVs in urban settings. They should be driven only by those who actually need 4-wheel drive, which number is incredibly small.
By: By inquisitive on 2007 10 18
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