My article last month reminded me of my early days when I was doing construction work. After working awhile in various aspects of construction, I ended up driving a truck. Driving the truck involved delivering materials and equipment to all the work sites. The truck was a 12-ton flatbed dump with side rails, hi/lo single axle with a 5-speed transmission and didn’t require a CDL license. At least I never had one. The truck had a trailer hitch to pull a heavy trailer for moving a backhoe, skid loader, forklift, etc. between the job sites. I liked this type of work. I’d go to the shop in the morning and get my instructions and then I’d be on my own for the rest of the day. This was great but it did mean cleaning up jobsites, tearing down scaffolding, loading equipment, and other heavy lifting, all without any help.
The only time I feared for my life was when driving the truck and trailer home from Mt. Storm WVA in a snowstorm. The truck was empty. And I don’t remember if I was hauling any equipment on the trailer. It was not an unusual occurrence that as I left the power plant to go back to Broadway it began to snow. I don’t recall any difficulties coming off the mountain at Mt. Storm or the ride through Maysville and Petersburg to Morefield. However, when I got to the top of the first mountain on Rt. 55 between Morefield and Baker it was a different story altogether. The snow had intensified, the roads were not yet treated, and as I found out conditions were dangerous. Having grown up in Bergton, I was well aware of the hazards of driving in snow and ice.
The road was a winding two lane with traffic and a steep drop-off on the opposite side. As I dropped down over the first mountain top, I knew I had to keep my speed down or risk losing control of the truck and trailer. The first time I tapped the brakes the truck started to skid. I knew I was in trouble! The truck had air brakes. Instead of releasing immediately when I tapped the brakes, the rear wheels would lock up for what seemed forever and the truck and trailer would begin to jackknife. I was gaining speed! I tried again with the same result. I knew that if I gained too much speed, I would lose control on one of the sharp curves and run down the side of the mountain, possibly taking out vehicles in the other lane. I tried the trailer brakes, but they were no help at all.
All this happened in a matter of seconds. My only remaining option was the side ditch. I found that by running the right side of the truck and trailer in the side ditch the brakes would work and I could maintain a safe speed. Awkward but at least I could maintain control. But now I had to avoid the deep culverts that diverted water under the road. The whole way down the mountain I drove in the side ditch until I came to a culvert where I would steer briefly back into the right lane and then back into the side ditch again. I made it to the bottom. To my surprise I had no problem climbing the grade to the top of the next mountain. I was hopeful that conditions would be better, but they were not. Again, I drove in and out the side ditch to the bottom. I can only imagine what people were thinking that followed behind me.
As I got to the top of the last mountain, I pulled off the road and stopped to evaluate my chances. This time the final grade down the mountain was different. There was no side ditch to slow the truck and trailer down. It was a long straight steep grade with a sharp left hand turn at the bottom. Instead of a side ditch on my right side, there was a sharp drop off to the open fields below. Conditions were getting worse and I knew looking down that incline there was no way to slow down to make the turn at the bottom. My nerves were shot, I had already pushed my luck, and I was going no further.
I backed the truck and trailer up and parked near a little country store at the top of the mountain. The store was roughly halfway, and we would always stop on the way to Mt. Storm and on the way home to get coffee, drinks and snacks. I was glad our work crew truck had stopped there as usual. I told them what happened and asked if there was room for a ride home. I got some kidding about wimping out, but no one else volunteered to drive the truck and trailer off the mountain.
The next day, even though the road was likely treated and clear by then, I let someone else go back and get the truck and trailer. I took a lot of grief and kidding over the incident. Maybe someone else could have done it differently, but I know if I had topped that mountain and gone down that last grade, I might not be writing this story today.
R.D. Cullers
Graduate of Bergton Elementary (Class of ’65)
