18. Cross country
I drove across country twice last year, one southern route, one northern. I listened to the CB the entire time. It was scary how bad the average driver is, and how much helpful information the average driver misses out on because they DON’T have a CB radio. I was able to get rerouted around several back ups, knew about every cop and speed trap, and also got great food suggestions.
If you’ve not driven cross country with a CB radio, then you haven’t done it right. Thanks truckers!
I was driving back to my college town one day on a big fat patch of five miles of fresh road, and I came upon three truckers. They were weaving back and forth across all four lanes, and to be honest it looked pretty rad. They were synchronizing their turns perfectly, and it looked like a hardcore road dragon or something.
It was terrifying, I couldn’t believe they would do that.
20. The Man
I’m a diesel mechanic. A regular customer had a flattop peterbilt with straight pipes and a 600 horsepower engine.
One of his buddies passed him on I-80 eastbound around mm155. So this fella says on the CB, “Pay attention, I’m going to close the gap”. (That means watch out for cops, here he comes.)
He hears back on the CB, “C’Mon, C’Mon!” so he mashes the throttle down, and lets loose the same cubic inch displacement as about 5 nissan altimas. Things get loud, and the scenery blurs.
Then flashing lights. Then it hits him. It was the wrong voice on the radio. Not his buddy, it was the cop. He was going 92 in a 70. I had to hear about this from other drivers for the rest of the night, everyone that went by while the MAN had him pulled over.
21. Close call indeed
Turnpike heading west into icy weather. Roads are fine so far. I should still be an hour or so from the storm so I’m doing about 65 up and down the mountains.
As I’m coming down a steep grade I decide to turn my radio on and ask eastbound how the roads are treating them. Right as I grab my mic a guy comes on saying, “westbound back her down! Black ice in the curve at the bottom post the 223” (or whatever mile marker I was at). I catch the next marker and realize, “Oh my god that’s for me.”
I’m full with 44000lbs of bananas going down a steep hill with a curve at the end with only a guardrail separating the road from a 300ft drop.
I got it down to about 30mph before I entered the curve and felt my steer tires start to slip and the trailer trying to push my butt end around.
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