meet you inside for dinner,” says CrackerJack. “Ok. This place is full up. Not many places left to park.” “Yeah, just be glad you didn’t come any later”, returned CrackerJack. The restaurant was full too but I found a table. Finally CrackerJack walked in. “What took you so long.” “Stopped by the fuel desk to check the weather for tomorrow.” “How’s it look?” I asked? “Great. Quite a day wasn’t it?” He said as he slid into the booth. “It’s been that kind of trip”, I said. “Yeah, it looks like you’ve had a rough trip. You’re not going to cause any trouble in here are you”, he asked with an unsure smile? “I could always go sit over there”, he points to another table. “What are you talking about,” I asked? Then I remember my eye. “No I’ve had enough excitement for one week,” I told him. “I’m going to behave for awhile.” “Good lets order.”
SNOQUALMIE
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It was light out but the sun wasn’t quite up when I climbed down from the truck. As I walked across the parking lot I noticed a beautiful dark blue W900 long nose KW pulling a silver reefer with a large blue stripe from front to rear at the fuel island. Between the huge 24 ½ inch black tires and twin 6” stacks must’ve been an additional 400lbs of ginger bread. I was staring at the sharp looking rig when a young woman of about 19 climbed down holding a little puppy. She was as gorgeous as the truck! Of course I’m a sucker for a girl in a cowboy hat and boots. Her boots were black, her blue jeans creased down the middle. A black belt with turquoise beadwork wrapped around the slim waist. Her white sleeveless blouse was tied in front so her belly showed. Long blond hair spilled from a black cowboy hat with turquoise hatband. As I walked past I smiled and asked if the dog was her protection. She smiled back and said no, her protection was inside paying for fuel. That was my cue to keep walking and stop drooling. Besides, all I had to do was buy a cowboy hat for my wife.
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I spotted ‘CrackerJack’ sitting in a booth sipping coffee. As I slipped into the seat across from him he asked how I’d slept. I told him great but a couple more hours would have been better. After ordering I looked out the window to see the girl carrying her puppy back to the truck and watched admiringly while she put the pup inside the door. I don’t usually eat breakfast when on the road, I’d just as soon be rollin’, but CrackerJack didn’t seem to be any hurry. As the girl in the cowboy hat walked to the counter all eyes were on her. I laughed as I told CrackerJack to grab his napkin and wipe the drool off his face. He just stared, ignoring me. She walked up to a tall handsome guy of about twenty-four and put an arm around him. He finished paying and they walked out together. CrackerJack mentioned the fellow must be drivin daddy’s rig. I agreed, he was too young to own a rig like that.
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I had finished eating and wanted to roll but CrackerJack lit up a smoke and leaned back idly. He could tell I was ready to go but said nothing. Finally I mentioned we ought to be goin. He asked, “What’s the hurry?” “Well I’m not one to sit around truck stops. Too much smoke,” I told him. CrackerJack looked at me with a wry grin and asked, “Have you ever been over Snoqualmie”? “No I haven’t”. He took another puff, “Well, you don’t want to be the first one over. Give the salt trucks time to do their job.” “But it hasn’t snowed,” I said. CrackerJack’s wry smile again, “You never know what’s happened on the mountain. Besides the sun is pretty intense up there and melts the snow. The water splashing down the rocks tends to spray onto the road and freeze.” “Always be alert when you come to shade.”
The road started with just a gradual climb but soon became steep with lots of switchbacks. The wisdom of what CrackerJack told me soon became apparent at the switchbacks. Before entering a pipe to go under the road the water did spray onto the roadway right at the curve. It was a beautiful day with the sun shining brightly. Of course the western slope would be in shadow. The road alternated between wet and dry. As I came out of the switchback I was startled by the wail of an ambulance going eastbound down the mountain.
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Finally we made it to the top and started down. We were now in shade and even though previously salted the road was starting to refreeze in the switchbacks. CrackerJack who was leading said, “We better slowdown a bit”. “Fine with me,” I said as I looked over a steep drop off. After easing around a couple of more switchbacks I noticed red lights flashing ahead. A rescue truck and two squad cars were stopped next to the edge of a steep drop off. As I slowly passed them my whole body went numb. Shock and fear took over. At the bottom of a deep rocky gorge was a crumpled silver trailer with a blue stripe. The tractor was smashed beyond recognition. CrackerJack and I continued quietly on down without saying a word.
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I noticed a line of haze across the valley below. As I entered the light haze the soothing fragrance of a hundred stoves burning pine relaxed me.
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EPILOGUE
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As brake drums heat up the heat is transferred to the wheel then the tire. As the tire gets hot it starts to melt. As long as the wheel is turning rapidly the wind keeps the tire from catching fire.
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It’s been brought to my attention some readers haven’t understood the tragic ending to my story. If you didn’t understand whose truck was at the bottom of the gorge either you weren’t paying attention or I’m a bad writer. Well, I’m am bad writer but I guess I’m worse than I thought.
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