My new, final resting place

Yeah, well, there's this about that truck.

We were enroute to out fuel stop somewhere on I95 in New Jersey today. We were on our way to Nashville, having formally been routed there to get me off his truck and a new trainee on it. In New Haven, traffic was getting rush-hour heavy as we approached I95 and there was some non-specific, almost unintelligible chatter about junk in the road. I noticed one small car move to avoid what looked to me like a lawn chair in my lane up ahead and I slowed to try to...

Oh, darn. I couldn't avoid it and there was no place to go. So I hit it...and instantly realized this was no lawn chair but a very substantial piece of steel that stayed under my truck, making a horrid sound as I dragged it onto the right shoulder to a stop.

By now the trainer was awake, too.

Almost instantly, a steady stream of diesel fuel and some red-tinted liquid began flowing down the right curb. I got out, placed my triangles, and waited while the trainer called 911 to notify the authorities of a major fuel spill. They all appeared from all directions very quickly.

Now that it is six hours later and over, to make a long story shorter, a very substantial piece of steel impaled iself 4 feet into the driver-side fuel tank after shredding the left steer tire. But there were no injuries and no property damage, and most amazing of all, not one of the half dozen Connecticut State Troopers who were there asked to see any identification, even though I told them all, when they asked, that I was the driver!

And one woman was very surprised when she rear-ended one of the responding fire trucks while looking at all the flashing lights in her lane. When we were towed away, the Trooper was having a come-to-Jesus conversation with her.

And I sit in a motel bed while my truck - his newly assigned truck - sits a mile away at the Freightliner awaiting a new fuel tank, steer tire, and oil pan, which the first of two tow truck companies mangled while hooking us up.

Ain't life strange?

 

That would be logical, of course, but from what I've seen so far, logic is not a thought pricess in high demand here...

 

This is what a large piece of steel bracing looks like impaled four feet into a fuel tank. The legs are about 4" square.

 

So far, nothing. No LEO asked for my identification, though I did truthfully answer that I was driving at the time, so there was no citation or report and I did provide all requested information to the WE accident report folks. My trainer gave similar information to Breakdown. The biggest concern all the public officials here had was the diesel spill and when Western would pay the contractor's cleanup fees.

There shouldn't be any future repercussions...'shouldn't' being the operative word. For now, we sit in a motel waiting for the techs at Southern Connecticut Freightliner to do their thing.

 

All that is absolutely right. And way oversimplified. The amount of time between first sight and impact was a few seconds, with only enough time to slow down from my speed of about 45. I am carrying 47,000 pounds of lumber strapped onto the back of a flatbed, a very unstable load. If I had slammed on the brakes or swerved, the problem would have been much, much worse, especially considering I had a blown left steer tire. This is definitely not dry van driving; there was absolutely nothing else I could have done. Nothing.