AUSTIN/PART 2

The next morning we continued south on I-35. Sporadic heavy rains made driving difficult, particularly in the morning rush hour traffic in Fort Worth. People dart in and out amidst 18 wheelers as if they can stop on a dime. Fine, if everything goes right. If not, the potential is there for a major disaster. Two of these darters were pestering Tommy. They were identical white pick up trucks. Unfortunately, for them, they had the name of an electrical contractor on the side of their trucks. As I follow along behind Tommy I am watching as these 2 trucks seems to be intentionally antagonizing him. Despite the rain they would turn abruptly into his lane, slam on the brakes, speed up, slow down, generally harassing him. Knowing Tommy as having perhaps the shortest fuse on the planet I am waiting for something to happen.

My CB erupts with a chorus of expletives only a former Marine such as him could unleash. They speed off into the distance. Again, unfortunately for them, the electrical contractor’s phone number was also painted on the side of their trucks. Tommy calls, gets the owner of the company on the line and proceeds to lecture him about the two ass holes driving his trucks on I-35 in Fort Worth. A couple of miles farther down the road we passed the 2 trucks pulled over to the side of the road, the driver holding a cell phone to his ear. Tommy gives them a long blast from his air horn and a one finger salute as we pass. Nice.

After a fuel stop near Waco we arrive in Austin. There are some surface streets to navigate to get to the Travis County Expo Center, home of the Star of Texas Fair and Rodeo. A trip is never over until it’s over. We coast to a stop at the bottom of the off ramp. Tommy makes a left turn and I follow him to the next signal. He brakes for a red light and I do too. But I can’t stop. The trailer brakes failed completely. Even though I was standing on the truck brakes the 24,000 pounds of the trailer were pushing me as if we were on ice. Despite the truck brakes being locked and the tires smoking, I was sliding at about 15-20 mph into the back of Tommy’s truck. Fortunately, there was a left turn lane next to my line and it was empty. I turned my truck into that lane, missing Tommy by inches, and slid half the length of his truck before I stopped. Tommy voice comes over the CB, “Hey Woody, were not turning left here”. I replied, in as calm a voice as I could muster, “I know we are not turning left here, my brakes failed and I almost wiped you out”.

We talk back and forth and I told him I would continue the last few miles at a snails pace. As we approach the next signal it is green. Tommy gets through then it turns red. Again I stand on the brakes and nothing. I lean on the horn as I slide right through the red light. Fortunately, cars on both sides of the intersection see what is happening and sit tight. After gathering myself again I inch my way the last mile or so and we park the rigs in Lot B at the Travis County Expo Center.