Tales from the Road: Throwing Sparks

After visiting OMSI and catching up with a relative I hadn't seen since a burial ceremony which took place before I joined STEEM HIVE, I drove east on I-84 out of the Portland metro area.

Night comes early in autumn, but the moon was almost full, the sky only had sparse clouds, and traffic was light. It was good driving, and I had enough energy left to get a fair few miles closer to home. I was content to set my cruise control at the speed limit, and aside from passing the occasional semi or being passed by less speed-conscientious locals, it was uneventful.

Mostly.

I had just passed a semi and returned to the "slow lane" on the right to mind my own business when I saw another vehicle also passing the semi at a much faster rate. They were in a hurry. As they approached me to pass on my left, I also noticed the semi flashing its headlights. I took a moment to double check the gauges and listen for problems in my car before quickly realizing I wasn't the one he was trying to signal.

As the other vehicle passed me, I saw sparks.

I also flashed my headlights. The driver was apparently unaware. On closer examination, It looked like a hitch-mounted cargo rack had come unsecured, and the metal tray was dragging on the road as this SUV blew down the freeway at about 80 MPH. There were some kind of plastic cargo bins bouncing along in the mess as well, but fortunately whatever means was used to secure them hadn't let go yet.

As this driver raced along, passing more cars, I could see the reflections of other drivers also flashing their lights. This driver apparently didn't hear anything from the loose cargo, didn't feel any strange scraping and vibration, and didn't see all the lights. They were utterly oblivious.

After a few moments, I saw the looming mass of the semi surge past me on the left as well. The driver doubtless committed several traffic infractions, but set out to get behind Sparky and get his attention. Some minutes later, I came upon the semi again, pulled over on the right shoulder. Ahead of him was an SUV. He had caught up with Sparky. I think I glimpsed the occupants inspecting the wreckage they had been dragging along for miles. Apparently attention was finally got.

I know I previously described Oregonian drivers in an unflattering light. I'm not sure where Sparky was from. I don't know how frequently Karens on Oregon roads flash their lights just to be jerks. But maybe, maybe, if many other drivers are flashing their lights, you should take a moment to assess things. Maybe you are the problem!

I stopped at Biggs Junction for gas, and weighed whether to keep going into the night. I decided to stay at a motel there in order to visit the Maryhill Museum on the following day. No prizes for guessing what my next post is planned to cover! Spoiler alert: things went according to plan.