Part 3 of 3: Why I Think I Am Super-human, or Brushes With Death.
I finally got all of my minidiscs all done, and all of my clothing/tools/vitamins/supplements together, and had time for a quick hour nap. Went to work, did a pre-trip, yadda-yadda, and was off to lovely Grande Prairie. They stuffed my truck full again, so I had to book it up there. The roads were SHITTY. Slush and ice the whole way up. There were a couple of close calls passing other trucks because of all the slush we were throwing up onto the windshields. I got to GP at nine, two hours behind. I busted my ass all day and caught up to the point that I figured I wouldn't go over my hours if I floored it all the way home. There is a curve in highway 43 by Alberta Beach. If the roads are bad, it can get treacherous so I always approack it with caution. The roads were perfect on the way back so I only let off the throttle a touch. Halfway through the turn my check transmission light comes on, the auto shift forces itself into low fourth, and the differential siezes. I still can't figure out how I kept it shiny side up. When everything settled down, I was at the side of the highway, a couple wheels off the shoulder, lots of smoke, but otherwise alive. The recovery driver from Cliffs was really impressed with me. I don't think Bridge Brand will be as impressed though. But whatever, it wasn't my fault and as far as I am concerned I prevented $250,000 of hardware from being written-off.
It's been an exiting and fun 72 hours.
It's been an exiting and fun 72 hours.