Truck Lands in Marsh

Note: In the article, The Marsh! The Marsh is on Fire!, I mentioned the way the roads down in the Toddville area have more than one name and there’s no clear markings on the road to tell you when the name changes. I used Maple Dam-US MD some number or other-Shorter’s Wharf road as an example. Yesterday, I discovered it had a fourth name at the other end – Andrews Road. The story below takes place on this road and, while I am fairly certain it doesn’t take place on the Andrews Road section nor the Maple Dam Road section, it does take place somewhere in between those two names. Since Keith and I always refer to this road as “the back way”, for clarity in the article, that is how I will refer to this multi-named road.

The back way is a thirty-mile stretch of country road that winds through the marshlands. Many of the turns are ninety-degrees or sharper. Most people who drive the road for the first time don’t go much past thirty miles per hour. The locals who drive it every day go fifty or more since they know where to slow down for the many sharp turns.

No matter how many times one drives the road, it can be deceptive. Cutting through the marsh, one stretch of road looks the same as any other stretch. If you don’t pay attention, lose track of where you are on the road, forget which stretch you’re on, or get too comfortable driving it, the sharp turns can surprise you. The margin of error on the road is a foot or less so quick reflexes and good brakes are a necessity.

The locals, however, have no problem zooming through the road at an average of fifty mph or more. Their secret is to use the oncoming-traffic’s lane to make the turns and a lot of braking. Their driving habits have more than once almost ran me off of the road and they always leave a lot of road kill behind.

Keith and I are the kind of guys who swerve to miss the frogs hopping across the road. We’ve stopped for snakes and even quickly moved one off the road before an approaching car reached it. (This time of year it is too cold for snakes and frogs, but there are still the opossums, foxes, deer and other mammals out and about.) We’re also the kind of guys who make turns while staying in our lane. Since we drive the back way every day, we hold our own on the road, but, without fail, there’s always one or two locals who feel the need to pass us.

Last Friday, one passed us on the double line, no less. I said to Keith, “One of these days I’d like to see one of these assholes miss the turn and end up in the swamp. That’ll slow his ass down and maybe give the wildlife a break down here.”

That some of the locals pass me because I’m going to slow for them since I refuse to drive like a maniac doesn’t bother me. What does bother me is their reckless disregard for the safety of the other drivers on the road and, of course, the wildlife. The police rarely venture down into that neck of the woods so everyone pretty much drives the way they want. That road, and all of the back roads down there, is a serious accident waiting to happen.

Little did I know that my off-hand remark on Friday night would come to fruition on Monday.

As we headed to work at six in the morning, a truck rested nearly on its side in the marsh. The cab light was still on, but we couldn’t see in the cab because the truck leaned at a 45-degree angle in a steep incline to the marsh.

I stopped the truck and Keith got out to make sure no one was in the truck. It was empty.

Neither Keith nor I are accident reconstruction experts, but it was obvious the driver missed the 90-degree turn and went straight over the turn’s embankment and into the marsh. Since it was Monday morning after the Super Bowl, we figured one of the following happened:

a) The driver was drunk and missed the turn.
b) The driver was speeding and missed the turn.
c) The driver fell asleep and missed the turn.
d) All or any combination of the above.

The driver was nowhere around so we figured he walked to the nearest house for help. That was a good two-mile hike in 8-degree weather.

When we returned from work that night, the truck was gone. Judging by the frozen mud clumps left in the road, the driver had someone tow him out because there was no way anyone could drive it out. I’m sure the bottom of the truck, and maybe the tires and axles, were damaged in the accident.

With any luck, maybe the driver learned something and now there will be one less reckless driver on the road.


© 2006
Mark Darien
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