Tech Tips and Tid Bits
RIGHT PLACE – RIGHT TIME
BY ROVING WRITER & DRIVER BRYAN WELSH
Spending the majority of my days on two lane highways between Oregon and Idaho is both good and bad at times. Getting stopped at a construction zone on Hwy. 20 with lane closures, running up behind a 45 mph motor home and having to chain up in unrelenting snow storms can definitely hold a guy up.
Thankfully, in my case, the upsides far outweigh everything else. I’ve always been a sucker for high desert terrain, and there is plenty of that where I run, but it is also very comforting to come across the same group of truck drivers every week, often ending the day with a sore arm from waving so much! These aren’t necessarily drivers I know or have met, just trucks I see all of the time crossing the same stretch of country that I do. But last year, a week before Thanksgiving, a normal day in the canyon turned into a day I’ll never forget in an instant.
As I was jaking down through a few tight corners out by Juntura, Oregon, right before my eyes, in slow motion, I watched a white Toyota Camry slide sideways across both lanes right in front of me! Before I could even react, I watched the car leave the road, roll down a twenty-foot embankment, over a retaining fence, and then come to rest on its roof below the roadway.
After coming to a stop, I jumped down out of my truck, grabbed my fire extinguisher and ran to the edge. Yelling down to the car I asked, “Can you hear me?” All I heard was a moan I’ll never forget. I was out in the middle of nowhere – in a place where you can drive for five to ten minutes without seeing another vehicle. I’d be lying to say that I wasn’t scared of what I might find down there, but there was only one thing to do. I remember looking up at the sky and saying, “Please God, no kids,” as I started heading down the embankment toward the wreckage.
At that moment, as I fearfully began to make my way to the upside-down car below, a familiar vehicle came rolling around the corner – a brown UPS truck pulling triples that I’ve waved at every day for years – only this time my wave was out of distress. Right away this stranger brought his set of triples to a dead stop, jumped out of his rig, and offered to help. The man shook my hand and said, “My name is Patrick.”
We ran down to the car together. I crawled through the busted rear window and, with Patrick’s knife, began to cut the woman’s seat belts while Patrick held the upside-down woman in place so she wouldn’t fall on her head when I cut her loose. After her belts were freed, Patrick and I lowered her out of the car onto a blanket on the ground.
Patrick and I sat in that hole for close to half an hour, patching up the injured woman’s head and trying to learn more about her. She wasn’t making a whole lot of sense because she had a serious head injury, but we did learn that her name was Karen Pine and she was from Bend, Oregon. But Patrick and I also learned a lot about each other while waiting in that hole for Life Flight to arrive.
I learned that over the years Patrick has had experience in the medical rescue field, and let me tell you, it really showed that day. We talked about his 30+ year marriage to his beautiful wife Shirley and their two amazing boys, but most importantly we saved Karen’s life, and I don’t know how I could have done that without Patrick’s help.
After the medics and law enforcement arrived, we simply shook hands once again and parted ways. Later that night, as I laid in my sleeper in Boise, I thought a lot about what had happened that day and couldn’t help but smile, knowing that Karen’s family was going to be able to spend Thanksgiving with her the following week – even if it might be in a hospital room – because two truck drivers were in the right place at the right time.
The following morning, on my way back home, I saw that familiar brown UPS truck in the distance, coming towards me like it had so many times before. As usual, I waved, but this time it was different. I keyed up my CB and said, “Mornin’ Patrick,” to which he replied, “Morning.” Then, Patrick came back and said, “We should meet for lunch.” Since that day, we have built quite a friendship. I thank God for Karen’s recovering health and for bringing us all together that day at Mile Post 182. I still love where I drive, and I still love waving at all the “strangers” I see so regularly. But now, one of them is not such a stranger anymore. Thanks, Patrick!