Mothertrucker

The roads were wet last night as we headed home around 6 p.m. It's about a 30-mile drive over a two-lane road through a national forest along a river, gorgeous in daylight no matter what time of year it is. After dark, though, it's just a two-lane road that we have to drive twice a day; this time of year, both drives are in the dark.

We were behind a couple of slower vehicles, not unusual in this part of the county. There are three nice long straight stretches, though, where it's usually easy to pass someone who wants to take his/her time. Last night we passed these slower vehicles, legally, I might add, on the broken line, with no oncoming cars in sight. Those are much easier to see at night (as long as they have their lights on, of course).

At that first straight stretch, after we passed the cars and were back in our own lane, the passing lane ended. There was a car coming toward us in the other lane. So, naturally, the tractor-trailer that suddenly appeared behind us, bearing down on us at about 80 mph (the speed limit is 55) decided that it was the perfect time to pass us. On the solid, non-passing-lane line. With a car rapidly heading toward us.

Tom could see that the truck couldn't possibly safely pass us and get back in the right-hand lane before the car hit it, but the trucker didn't care. Horn blaring, he sped up and continued to try to pass us. With a car rapidly heading toward us. Tom sped up so the truck could get back into the lane behind us before he hit the car head-on. Mr. Big Trucker didn't appreciate the gesture; he swerved behind us and turned on his high-beams, sped up, and stayed right on our tail for several miles until we hit the mountain. (Not literally, of course.) Several times he tried to pass us, but by that time we were both kind of irritated with him (I was much more irritated than Tom, and much more vocal. And louder.) and didn't allow him to do so.

The trailer must have been empty, because I figured that we'd lose him after the first or second curve on the mountain. Those curves are short and sharp on the Virginia side. Trucks (and cars) have to slow down.

Nope. Mr. Big Trucker was right on our tail halfway up that mountain, full-beams on the whole way. I'm proud to admit that I flipped him the bird.

I was almost hoping he'd pass us illegally so I could get his license number and any identifying marks on the truck. At that point it occurred to me that he had plenty of time to memorize our license, too. Whoops.

On the West Virginia side of the mountain, just over the top, there's a pull-over for trucks. All trucks are required to stop there to check their brakes (evidentally Virginia isn't as interested in her drivers'/passengers' safety, as there isn't anything like that on that side), and often slower cars will pull over to allow more impatient drivers to pass, even though farther down the mountain there are a couple of legal passing lanes.

Last night we left Mr. Big Truck behind before we could see if he stopped to check those brakes which he obviously hadn't used too much on the way up. I'm betting he didn't stop. But there was a small car in the pull-over area, inside light on, doing something, trying to find something, I don't know. But it took so long for Mr. Big Truck's lights to appear on the WV side that I'm thinking that Mr. Little Car pulled out before he came around the curve, slowing him down. Because driving down a mountain certainly wouldn't have slowed him down any.

Didn't matter. As soon as he could, he passed the car and the milk truck that was ahead of us, which meant that Mr. Big Trucker was right behind us when we pulled into our driveway in the middle of a sharp, long curve a couple of miles (by road) from the bottom of the mountain. He barely slowed down.

Mothertrucker.