Entered the freeway this evening with my youngest son and daughter in the car with me. In front of us was a semi, one of those ones that carry tons of gravel in funnel-shaped containers, the bottoms of which open so they can dump the rocks.
There was traffic on the road, so I wasn’t able to jump over a lane or two, as I would have liked.
Hate driving behind those trucks!
Barely had a chance to get caught up to speed and pull up behind the gavel truck before I found myself in a hailstorm of bits of gravel flying out from the truck and pinging its way all over the highway, my car, and yes, my windshield!
As I was surrounded by traffic, I couldn’t get over. All I could do was slow down to create some distance between the offending truck and my car. As I waited for an opening to move over, I glared at the back of the truck and at the two chunks now taken out of my windshield from his free-flying rocks!
By this point, all three of us in my car were on high alert, and my daughter was determined to get the license plate number of the idiot truck driver, so completely unaware of the driving hazard he was causing. While she strained to see the numbers on his grungy truck, I did my damdedest to pull alongside him while trying to avoid further damage to my car from the still free-flying gravel.
We did get his license number and then got as far away from the truck as possible, me noticing other drivers going through the same maneuvers as I just had. As we passed the truck, I glanced up at the driver—clueless.
What an idiot!
Anyhow, we’re all fine. Can’t say the same for my poor windshield or paintjob. Apparently, I’ll be putting in a call to my insurance company first thing Monday morning.
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