After all the trouble I had just leaving New Jersey, things were pretty uneventful until I reached Nebraska. I was just cruising along, enjoying the flat lands and the nice weather, when I noticed what appeared to be a wall coming down the highway toward me. I could see cloud formations from a long way off, but as I got closer I saw cars literally disappear into a wall of water. As I approached this wall there was another semi about 100 yards ahead of me. That semi hit the wall and instantly disappeared, but never put on its brake lights. So, I didn't bother to slow down as I hit the wall. As I entered the first thing I saw was a set of semi taillights coming at me fast and cars all over the place.

There was no way to stop before smacking the semi in front, so I slammed on the brakes and cramped the wheel so at least I wouldn't hit the rear of the truck head on. The other truck was still moving forward, and I came to rest crossways on the freeway and a foot or two behind the other semi.

I'm glad the drivers behind me were smarter than I, because my truck stretched from ditch to ditch. I backed up and got realigned with the freeway and headed down the road.

As I closed in on California, I started searching for a way to get to my first drop without going through Truckee. My first drop was in Merced, which wasn't far enough south to allow me to go in through southern California. I spotted Highway 108 which appeared to have some sections of four-lane, which meant I could go that way. It came out north of Merced, so I headed down the eastern slope for 108.

Taking the Scenic Route

I later discovered that Highway 108 was in fact a scenic highway that was restricted to all trucks. When my dispatcher discovered that I had tried out 108 he said he knew it and wouldn't attempt it on a motorcycle, much less a semi. But at the time, I was blissfully unaware.

Once I was headed west on 108, it wasn't long before I got the first hint I might have misjudged the highway. A sign loomed up that warned of 26% grades ahead. I said, "No problem, this truck can handle that." A few miles later, another sign warned "Sharp curves and steep grades ahead. Vehicles with wheel base over 48 feet not permitted." I thought about this for a minute, but with the wheels pulled forward on my trailer I figured I was OK.

I got quite a few more miles in and did a fair amount of climbing without any problem. Then I hit my first sharp curve. I had to get the left wheels of the tractor off the left side of the road and the right wheels of the trailer off the right side of the road to make it around, but I made it. I went on and figured if they don't get any worse than that I'll be fine.

Next came a chunk of that 26% grade. It was almost like hitting a wall. As the truck slowed I tried to shift and came to a halt so fast that I had to hit the brake to avoid going backwards. I was able to get started again in low gear, but how long does it take to go a mile when you are only going 2 mph?

Tight Turnaround

I finally got to the top of the hill and the road leveled out, but I could tell there was more to come. I now started looking for escape routes, places to turn around, just in case.

After a few miles of smooth sailing, I came to an S curve. A steep S curve. I slowed down and got part way around the first half when the opposing twists that were put on the tractor and trailer caused the drivers to lose traction. I backed up and put the tractor in four-wheel drive, which is really two-wheel drive. I had the feeling that if I could get around this curve, I would be home free.

I took another run at it, but the twisting between tractor and trailer literally raised one side of the tractor off the ground. I backed down the road far enough so I wouldn't be blocking traffic and set the brakes. I had not seen a car for hours, but still thought it best to not block the road.

The last place I had seen that might have been a turnaround point was several miles back, so I decided to scout the area. A few hundred feet back I found a place I thought might work but looked kind of borderline.

I had to back out onto a slightly sloped area that was rocky and rough. There was a severe dropoff after what looked like enough space for the trailer. At the edge of the dropoff was a large boulder that I was sure I could catch with the left rear trailer wheel, which would help stop any downhill progress. The thought of backing up for several miles at maybe 2 mph made the decision to give it a try a lot easier.

I got back into the truck and carefully backed the trailer onto the outcropping. As the rear wheels of the trailer bumped up against the boulder, the tractor was still pointing up the road in the oncoming traffic lane. I attempted to wiggle-wobble the tractor by pulling forward and backing up, but the distance to the ditch on the other side of the road was too short. After several tries I had gained nothing.

While I sat there pondering my situation, it occurred to me that all I had to do was drop the trailer, back the tractor down the hill past the trailer, turn it around, back up and reattach the trailer.

As soon as I started dropping the feet on the landing gear, I realized just how uneven the ground was under the trailer. The right foot touched down a foot or so before the left one. I began searching for big rocks to fill the gap. It took several and the pile did not look real stable. I was also concerned about the load capacity of the stones. I figured there was 4 to 5 tons on each foot. About then, the only car I saw during the whole episode came by. They stopped and asked if I would like them to get some help. I told them no thanks, I had every thing under control. They marveled at the situation for a few seconds, then left. I feel certain they got to see at least one unexpected scene on their scenic tour.

Rocks in a Hard Place

I began raising the trailer slowly. I was more concerned about the rocks shattering than the trailer tipping. In either event, the trailer would have just fallen back onto the fifth wheel of the tractor. The thought of rocks turning into missiles as they shattered concerned me a lot more.

There were all kinds of creaking and popping noises as I raised the trailer. The tractor also rose as I removed the weight of the trailer from the fifth wheel, and the rocks were now, well, rock solid.

Just for the heck of it, I went around to the other side of the trailer and kicked it several times. Let's see now, a 150-pound man kicking a 40,000-pound trailer, that is something you won't see very often. I may have caused the trailer to jiggle a little, and that made me feel the trailer was fairly secure.

I had to raise the trailer high enough to be sure the tractor wouldn't bump the kingpin or the trailer as I pulled away. The tractor could do a whole lot better job of kicking the trailer than I could.

I released the fifth wheel catch and pulled straight away from the trailer, so as to not cause any contact. As I pulled away, my nervousness level started rising, because if the rocks broke with no tractor under the trailer, it would be time to bobtail down the mountain and get a wrecker. I wonder how many thousands of dollars it would have cost. I was a long way from a small town and much farther from a large town that would have a suitable wrecker.

I backed down the road, turned around and started backing up to the trailer. I got out of the tractor many times to check the alignment of the kingpin and the fifth wheel. One wrong move, and all would be for naught. The slightest wrong move would knock the trailer off the pile of rocks.

Once I got close, I lowered the trailer so it was slightly touching the fifth wheel. It was all downhill from there. I moved the tractor back so it locked onto the kingpin. The rocks were still supporting the trailer when I went back to crank up the landing gear. Have I mentioned yet that truck driving can be kind of stressful at times?

The sun was going down as I headed down the mountain. That morning, I had thought I would be sitting next to the lumber company at my first drop, relaxing in my sleeper, watching TV by sunset.

Almost immediately, a new dilemma arose. All the dinking around had used a lot of fuel. I had seen only one gas station, not a truckstop, since Hawthorne, Nev., and I still had no intention of going through Truckee. My only hope was that the gas station was still open, and it had diesel fuel.

I got to the gas station around 11 p.m. and it was still open. It wasn't designed for trucks. As I left the highway, the dropoff was severe enough to cause the landing gear to scrape the ground.

Before I started to pull in, I noticed a sign that said they had car diesel. One thing that I had learned during my short time as a truck driver was that car diesel and truck diesel were the same thing. I had to park far enough away from the pump to avoid hitting the low canopy.

I put in about 50 gallons, which I figured was more than enough to get to Merced. While the pump slowly dispensed the fuel, I checked my map for another way through the mountains. Highway 4 was the closest significant throughway, so after I paid for the fuel I headed north again, grinding the landing gear on the ground as I regained the highway.

Highway 4 was smooth sailing with some decent grades but no killer slopes. I was well into the mountains when I came across a highway that ran south. I stopped and checked my map, and it looked like it would cut a lot of miles of my trip.

I got about 30 miles down the road when I saw a sign that said "Caution: Steep Grades and Sharp Curves Ahead." Uh-oh. This time, I believed it. There was a place nearby that was big enough to turn a semi around in, so I used it and headed back to Highway 4.

It turned out that 4 is fairly usable for a truck, but when I later got a map book that showed designated and restricted routes for trucks, it was also on the restricted list. Oh, well.

The rest of the trip was just wandering around on two-lane highways through sleepy little towns. I arrived at my first drop about an hour before they opened. That gave me just enough time to shave and get something to eat.

From then on I didn't get very adventurous when it came to backroads, especially if there were any mountains around. I used my trucker's maps a lot. Oh, and one last note: I have been through Truckee many times since and have never been stopped again.