colorado 2:2
That day, driving on mountain
freeway, the car stalled going downhill. There was nowhere to stop but the truck escape ramp.
I remembered a story about a trucker, plunging downhill with the brakes gone, and the car drivers
pulling into the escape ramps, forcing the trucker to slalom all the way to the bottom at increasing
speed. I pulled to the side but couldn't get out of the track. Stay here, I told someone else's kids, and
I hopped out. Under the hood, oil was splattered, quarts of it, over the engine block, dripping into the
gravel. I glanced up at a tanker grinding down in low gears, proper procedure. The dipstick was up;
this car wouldn't run without it in place. The oil had come from there, strangely. I found a
rubberband to hold down the stick. More trucks went by as I added the last half-quart of oil from
the trunk. One of them flashed its lights, blasted the horn. You are in the wrong place.
move on...
other roads...
Back Up...
other roads:
