A Productive Day

February 18, 2013 - 11:35 PM

I woke up early today, 6:00! That's a lot earlier than most days lately, since I don't have to worry about work anymore, but I knew I had a lot to do today.

The plan today was to get everything ready to make a trip to Phillips tomorrow. Robin & Rachel have a huge stash of food that they've been saving up for the last year, and a whole bunch of food that they got from David McHolland.

I swapped the Vue for Keith's (Robin's dad's) Ford F-250 last weekend so I could bring a big load back to Phillips, where Keith and Patty (Robin's mom) will send the food to us in resupply boxes while we're on the trail.

I took the truck and ran all my errands: fuel up, buy binders, buy an mp3 player, get a haircut.

I went to Appleton and loaded up the truck with all of the food bins - about ten big Rubbermaid tubs in all. The girls even had labels on some of them: 199 instant meals, 110 mashed potato packs, etc. I headed back to Oshkosh to fill up the rest of the truck. I managed to fit in a dresser, Robin's cabinet with all her stickers on it, and a few other bins. I was pretty impressed with how much fit into the bed and the cab!

I decided to go to Phillips a day early, since I was so far ahead. I could still make it to Phillips during daylight, and besides, Mom has cable and I could spend a whole day in Phillips just chilling out. I checked the weather report and saw no warnings of precipitation!

I stopped at Festival on my way out of town to pick up my favorite salsa, Tostitos Cantina Style Chipotle. Can't get it at Pick & Save and certainly can't get it in Phillips.

Headed out for Phillips at 3:30. According to my Navigation App, I would arrive in Phillips at 6:45. I called Dad, as he was heading back to Phillips from Medford.

"Adam, is it snowing where you are?"

"Nope, not yet. I didn't know there was supposed to be snow." We talked about Packers and Final Fantasy XIII and eventually one of us ran out of cell coverage.

I got through Stevens Point and I noticed there was some snow starting up. I called up Dad, to ask if it was still snowing in Phillips. I thought maybe if it was a small storm, it would blow through soon, since it had been in Phillips an hour ago.

Unfortunately, it was still snowing in Phillips. I checked the temperature: 37. OK no problem. Half an hour later I was in Wausau: 36. Snow coming down some, but not bad.

I got to Merrill: 32. OK, that's a bad temp. At 32, snow melts and freezes and thaws out and refreezes and you've got a nice, slick road surface. The road temp is generally a degree or two higher than the air, so I watched the spray coming off the tires of other cars. Still spraying like mad. No problem.

I was driving 65. Usually in the Vue I drive quite a bit slower than most traffic in poor weather. It's made of plastic and has very little weight, therefore it has less grip on the road. I was going a little faster than some of the traffic, they were driving at maybe 60.

I had a lot of thoughts, the same thoughts I have every time I drive in bad weather. I've driven in a lot of bad weather, often when driving even bigger trucks. I thought about a rollover. What would that be like? I'd recently seen a trailer for Cloud Atlas, where it shows Halle Berry inside a car that was flipping over and heading into the water. Probably like that, I thought.

I got to the Tomahawk area, and I thought I felt the slightest wobble from the back end of the truck. Or was it my imagination? OK, time to slow it down. Stay off the brake. I turned off the cruise control and slowed it down to 60, the same speed of the three cars I'd just passed.

I felt comfortable at that speed. When I feel comfortable at a speed, it's probably safe. I've made truck driving trainers NUTS because I refuse to drive over the speed limit and I also refuse to drive at a speed faster than I feel comfortable with in bad weather. Big pickup, plenty of weight, same speed as the other cars on the highway. No problem.

About one minute later, over the span of one second, the truck turned sideways, passenger side first, and started heading for the left shoulder.

I've fishtailed and skidded before. I knew even before the truck was perpendicular to the flow of traffic that I had no chance of getting out of this skid. It happened so fast I wouldn't have had time to react anyway. Skidding sideways, I had a surprisingly dull realization of the danger ahead of me in the next few seconds. I was afraid, of course, but I knew there was nothing I could do now. Nothing I could do to help my mortal body or change the fate of my eternal soul. It's too late now.

Famous last words: Oh...

...

...shoot.

I'm not kidding. Those were my exact words.

This could be it. I might die now. I didn't think, "I might get injured," or "I might get paralyzed." I might die now.

I wasn't worried about all of the bins crushing me, the dresser splintering and stabbing me, or the cute chair sitting upside down on the passenger seat smashing into my body. My only concern was the roof coming down (up) on my head when it hit the ground.

Maybe...just maybe...it won't roll over. By some strange miracle.

The back wheels won the race to the north and the front wheels won the race to the shoulder. I shut my eyes. The back end swung around behind me, and I lost track of what was happening to the truck.

Some small object hit the top of my head. Nothing bad, but enough to make me realize things were loose - or falling sideways. Something hit the side of my face. I knew I was rolling over. I let go of the wheel and covered my head with my hands.

Then everything was still. If I'd rolled, then I'd only rolled once. The truck was...upright? I did a quick "systems check" and decided that the right side of my jaw hurt a little, but not bad. I was...OK?

Really?

The truck was still running, and it was in between the northbound and southbound lanes, right in the middle of a deep ditch with at least twenty feet of space on either side. A dance version of Forever Young (yes, really, I went back and checked the playlist) was still playing through the radio from my phone. I shut the truck off and looked for the phone. There, under the passenger seat.

It didn't react. Uh-oh. The cover was a little off, maybe it can't sense my touch. I pulled the Ballistic case off and tried. Worked perfectly. $40 well spent on Ballistic.

Dial 911. Wait, where am I? Tomahawk. My Navigator app was still running. 6.8 miles to highway 8.

Dial 911. Ring. Try the door. Ring. Stuck? Ring. Push harder. Door opened. An answer from dispatch.

I'd like to hear the recording to see if I sounded as cool and collected as I thought I was.

"I've been involved in an accident on the highway, I think I rolled over. I'm seven miles south of highway 8."

As it turned out, four other cars had rolled over in the last five minutes. So dispatch had to confirm my location a couple more times to make sure. She asked if I was OK. "I think so. I don't think I was hurt bad. I should be fine."

As I was talking, I got out of the truck. Dispatch is sending someone to me.

No sign of the three cars I knew had been right behind me.

OK. I'm fine. No problem. I'm going to live. I'm not seriously hurt.

Right?

OK, I might be in shock. Look at my body. Nothing out of the ordinary. No blood. OK. Probably fine.

Somebody pulled up in a pickup with flashing yellow lights. "Are you OK?"

"Yeah, I think so. I just called 911 and they're on their way. I think I rolled it."

"Yeah, you did, the roof is dented. Will you be OK?"

"Oh yeah, I was hauling food, I'm good for days." That was an exaggeration. I had enough food that I could have survived for two months just mixing snow with potato flakes.

I finally turned to see the damage to the truck.

Realization. Deflation.

KEITH'S truck. Oh, no...

The truck itself didn't look too bad, considering. The roof wasn't dented real bad, but the back window was blown out by one of the bins in the back seat, and the truck bed...

Oh yeah...the food.

Sealed packages of tuna and salmon. Meat sticks. 199 instant meals. Eight BILLION packages of instant oatmeal. Food that was meant to be spread out over 2,650 miles, now spread out over a fifteen foot radius around the truck.

I called Keith. "I've got bad news, Keith. I rolled your truck. It doesn't look too bad, but the roof is dented, it might be totaled."

"Never mind about that, are you OK?"

Oh yeah. Oops...

Keith said he and Patty would come and pick me up. So it was a matter of waiting. And the world's coldest and weirdest game of 52 pick-up.

I walked around to the other side of the truck to see if I could open the passenger door. I got it open, and my grocery bag fell out. Potato chips, check. Tostitos, check. Salsa...what? Salsa...where? Something had hit me in the head while I was in zero-G. No...

I went back around and checked behind the driver seat. A pair of sunglasses. Wait...these are mine. But they were in the closed center console...inside a carrying case. And now they're under the back seat? Wait, where are my glasses? I'm not wearing my glasses! I got my backpack out and found a spare pair. Whew...this was going to be fun enough WITH vision.

I started picking up what I could of the non-paper (a.k.a. oatmeal) packages. A lady in a car stopped on her way past to check if I was ok. I said I was fine, I have people on the way, and thanked her for stopping.

Robin's movable closet with all her stickers on it was reduced to boards. I slowly, carefully placed one of the boards in the truck bed. Then I laughed at myself and carelessly threw the next five pieces in.

I got almost all the non-oatmeal back into the truck and an ambulance slowly crept up from the south. I decided to walk up because I figured they were stopping for me. An EMT got out and asked if I was OK. I guessed that it had been about fifteen minutes since the wreck, and I thought I probably wasn't in shock anymore, but I'd better have him check me out. By the time he reached me I had my jacket off.

He checked the top of my head first, asked me to move my tongue and pressed me in places that I suppose might have been sore after a crash. He said I was fine. My right elbow was puffed out farther than normal on the inside and I started to worry. He said it was probably a bruise. Then I realized that I had been picking up fairly heavy objects for the last fifteen minutes, so yeah it was probably just a bruise.

He said, "So you were coming from the south?" and pointed north. Uh oh.

"Wait, THAT way is south?" The whole world rotated 180 degrees. Ah, that explains the tire tracks coming from THAT side of the highway. I did a mental facepalm while the EMTs were amused but gracious about it.

The police showed up and that's when I'd found out I was the fourth rollover in five minutes. I guess it came on fast.

They called a wrecker and got the truck towed out from the ditch. I waited in the police car until the flatbed came by. I started talking and wouldn't stop. I realized I must be coming down from something. Finally the truck was up on the flatbed and I got the ride to the shop.

I was able to think about the ramifications of the accident. Keith & Patty probably need to get a new truck. It probably won't impact Disco Pickle too much. Beyond that...well, I probably can't get a truck driving job for over a year now. Oh well. An hour earlier I was surprised just to be alive and mobile.

Keith and Patty were there waiting for me at the shop. Keith came over and I went to shake his hand, but he gave me a hug, which I didn't realize I needed until then. We checked out the inside of the truck and pulled out as much as we could to put in Keith & Patty's little SUV.

Keith was over on the passenger side, looking for things to take back to Phillips. "Hey, Adam..."

"Yeah?"

He held up an uninjured jar of delicious salsa...

Current books:

Star Wars: Slave Ship

Christian: Mere Christianity

Non-fiction: Tom Brown's Field Guide: Wilderness Survival (the Attitude chapter came in handy today)

Fiction: Undecided