My Near-Fatal Road Trips, Illustrated

Luckily, Dad had previously noticed the truck at an intersection, and after a minute of wondering "IS THAT TRUCK FACING BACKWARDS IN THE INTERSECTION!?" he got a better view and saw that it was being towed. Nevertheless, it was a perfect photo opportunity.

Since I never told you about the two times I could have died during last year's road trip, I suppose I ought to share them.


Incident 1: Fire

March in the southwestern United States is a little cool, but comfortable. April is a bit warmer, but very tolerable. By May, it becomes uncomfortable to go outside while still conforming to the school's dress code. And when June arrives, you only go outside if you are:
1. Walking to the pool
2. Walking towards an air-conditioned building
3. Returning to your car

And of course, we were driving in June.


On the first day of our trip, we had been driving for perhaps four hours when I noticed something strange in the air.



"Dad, is that smoke?" I asked.

He said yes. We kept an eye on it as we drove, hoping that it would go away and wondering what was going on. It grew closer and closer and denser and denser.

Then we came to a traffic jam, even though the road had been nearly empty for most of the drive.

"That's strange. There must be some construction up ahead," my dad said.

The smoke blew thickly overhead. Then, from a gap between two trucks, I saw this:



Did you know that there's such a thing as pink fire? Well, before this trip, I certainly didn't. It consumed the truck, leaping gleefully as it feasted on the truck's empty shell, and poured out black smoke as if the hand of God Himself had reached down and cursed the truck to burn in eternal flames.

The burning truck was on the shoulder of the road, and none of the cars wanted to use the right lane, so the traffic had slowed to a crawl. It seemed that the cars were choosing between three options:



And for some reason, the majority of the cars chose the third option.


Dad was seriously considering speeding by,  but I argued that our lives were too precious to risk just for staying on schedule. He said that our large trailer would make it too hard to speed up enough, so we pulled off and waited.

About 15 minutes later, we heard sirens. The fire truck had arrived.

Once it was safe, the trucks ahead of us pulled back onto the road, and we followed them. As we picked up speed, we drove past the  truck, which was now foam-covered and mottled with black.

About 200 feet down the road, we saw some people standing in the dirt.



The woman appeared to be texting, so we figured they'd at least have a ride home. The other two stared, unseeing, at the passing cars.







Incident 2: An Unexpected Exit

As we continued driving down the highway, I marveled at how eventful our first day had been. A flaming car? You don't see things like that every day! Lost in my thoughts, I watched the scenery pass by while Dad continued driving in the right lane.

A truck began to pass us in the left lane. Suddenly, the driver noticed the exit sign.



That was the driver's exit!

Now, both the driver and we were travelling at 80 mph, but truck drivers have lots of experience, so the driver decided that (s)he had enough skill to make the exit smoothly.



And the long body of the truck swung right in front of us.



Dad braked and swung the steering wheel with all his might. Our car jerked to the right onto the exit ramp, nearly colliding with the back of the truck. The truck sped on ahead.


And thus we ended up taking an exit we didn't want to take.





After such an eventful first day, we were a bit worried about the two days of driving ahead of us. But they passed uneventfully.