It's late in the evening. The sun has set, and the thunderclouds
flash with splashes of lightning. The road we're driving on is under
construction. We could detour easily, but I like to amuse myself by
driving through the construction zone to see how things are
progressing. We come this way almost every weekend.
Last week, when we went through earlier in the day, we found that
they had made a little detour around a section of the road where they
were replacing some large culverts. Really large culverts, something
like twenty feet in diameter. There was a deep ditch right in the
middle of the road, straight down on either side. There were barricades
to divert traffic so that no one would drive into the big ditch across
the road.
It's pretty much a dirt road. All of the pavement has been removed;
the surface has been graded and packed. In the distance, we can see
the flashing lights of emergency vehicles reflecting off the
surroundings. A few seconds later, we come around the corner, and see
the lights themselves. A couple of fire trucks, an ambulance, a RCMP
car. What's happening here?
Turns out that somebody was blasting along and either didn't see
the barricade, was drunk and didn't care, or thought it would be fun
to try to jump the little man made gorge. He, or she, died
instead. The top of the truck's cab was crushed in, and it's wheels
spun helplessly in the air. When we went by, emergency personnel were
standing around talking. It didn't look like they were in a big hurry
to get the jaws of life out.