In general, there’s not much that scares me in life. I’d rather have my ashes scattered after going for it, taking the risk, exploring terrain previously uncovered.
Yet there’s a nagging sense of fear that grows in me. It’s developed over the past 6-months. It’s personal. It’s related to semi-trucks driving on the interstate.
This past February, I changed jobs and went to work for Referee Magazine and the National Association of Sports Officials. This necessitated a significant interstate highway commute on a daily basis. Probably about 40+ miles on the interstate from west of Milwaukee, south to Racine, WI.
This new stage of life started out okay last February. When June hit, construction season began, Foxconn activities picked up in Southeast Wisconsin and summer vacationers came up from Illinois to increase traffic on the roads; that’s when things intensified.
One out of three lanes southbound closed heading towards the Racine exit. Not a biggie. Still……
During that period, about once every two weeks, a semi-truck would begin to change lanes while I was right next to it. Every time this happened, the truck driver ultimately recognized my car was there and drifted back into his lane. It was close, very close several times, as I remember shifting onto the shoulder.
You can imagine your andrenaline kicking in. My heart thundered for miles. My hands went tingly. I had trouble breathing.
When this happens multiple times, it begins to affect your behavior. One morning, a car maybe 10 feet in front of me swerved, then bucked into my middle lane. Since I was watching closely, I was able to immediately swerve to the left as the driver lost control, his/her car swinging wildly. My blood flushing through my veins, I watched in the rearview mirror as s/he continued to fight the wheel, a semi slamming on the brakes and turning its entire carriage perpendicular to the traffic flow and both the car and truck slamming into the median.
The next day I looked at the skid marks while commuting in and wondered if there were survivors.
By mid-summer, as traffic increased and multiple exits closed with the Foxconn buildup continuing, dump trucks were added to the mix of traffic entering in heavy spurts due to the closing of entrance ramps. Concrete barriers closed down the room to the sides and no shoulders existed for the final 6-8 miles of the morning commute to work. In the fall, the same occurred on the commute home.
Semis to the right, semis in front, semis behind. Often boxed in, the drive intensity and fear factor increased. Your car is wedged. Do they see you? When they start drifting, is the driver about to fall asleep? There is nowhere to go.
Small solutions had me taking back roads, but there was no full escape. At some point during this time, I realized I’d begun to fear the crash. It permeated the drive.
It’s wrong, but now when I can pass a semi, I floor it at full speed to get past them. Maybe that’s another bad thing for safety on the highway. But it’s my coping mechanism.
I do know that if a state trooper pulls me over, I’m going to talk about my fear and I think s/he will understand.
Yet there’s a nagging sense of fear that grows in me. It’s developed over the past 6-months. It’s personal. It’s related to semi-trucks driving on the interstate.
This past February, I changed jobs and went to work for Referee Magazine and the National Association of Sports Officials. This necessitated a significant interstate highway commute on a daily basis. Probably about 40+ miles on the interstate from west of Milwaukee, south to Racine, WI.
This new stage of life started out okay last February. When June hit, construction season began, Foxconn activities picked up in Southeast Wisconsin and summer vacationers came up from Illinois to increase traffic on the roads; that’s when things intensified.
One out of three lanes southbound closed heading towards the Racine exit. Not a biggie. Still……
During that period, about once every two weeks, a semi-truck would begin to change lanes while I was right next to it. Every time this happened, the truck driver ultimately recognized my car was there and drifted back into his lane. It was close, very close several times, as I remember shifting onto the shoulder.
You can imagine your andrenaline kicking in. My heart thundered for miles. My hands went tingly. I had trouble breathing.
When this happens multiple times, it begins to affect your behavior. One morning, a car maybe 10 feet in front of me swerved, then bucked into my middle lane. Since I was watching closely, I was able to immediately swerve to the left as the driver lost control, his/her car swinging wildly. My blood flushing through my veins, I watched in the rearview mirror as s/he continued to fight the wheel, a semi slamming on the brakes and turning its entire carriage perpendicular to the traffic flow and both the car and truck slamming into the median.
The next day I looked at the skid marks while commuting in and wondered if there were survivors.
By mid-summer, as traffic increased and multiple exits closed with the Foxconn buildup continuing, dump trucks were added to the mix of traffic entering in heavy spurts due to the closing of entrance ramps. Concrete barriers closed down the room to the sides and no shoulders existed for the final 6-8 miles of the morning commute to work. In the fall, the same occurred on the commute home.
Semis to the right, semis in front, semis behind. Often boxed in, the drive intensity and fear factor increased. Your car is wedged. Do they see you? When they start drifting, is the driver about to fall asleep? There is nowhere to go.
Small solutions had me taking back roads, but there was no full escape. At some point during this time, I realized I’d begun to fear the crash. It permeated the drive.
It’s wrong, but now when I can pass a semi, I floor it at full speed to get past them. Maybe that’s another bad thing for safety on the highway. But it’s my coping mechanism.
I do know that if a state trooper pulls me over, I’m going to talk about my fear and I think s/he will understand.