To continue with the exhibition of what I am now referring to as my “twisted metal series,” here is another montage of another accident. This one, however, happened a few months ago.

It was March 22, 2007, just after 6pm. It had been raining all day and the needed precipitation smelled good. I had just passed Cherry Rd., the one that goes to Prescott, and it started coming down really hard. Though I was already running a little late, I decided to slow down a little (a little…from 78 to 65). I was supposed to pick up Chris and Andy from the airport, drive them back to Flagstaff, and we were to hike to Havasupai Falls the next morning, early. That was the plan.

I was in the fast lane, which I shouldn’t have been, but my visibility was less than great so I figured the best thing I could do is stay where I was. My green tea was still hot even though I was half way to Phoenix. I remember taking a sip and, with my left eye, I saw the bridge up ahead. There are small bridges all over 17; they are built over washes mostly. There were large headlights changing lanes behind me, going around me.

I was halfway over the bridge when the semi blew past me, going 85…no, 95, no, 195 miles an hour. I have no idea how fast it was going, but I know I was going 65 because I was cruisin’. I could literally hear and feel the water rush beneath the car. The back end wiggled very slightly, like if I were parked and someone tied their shoe with their foot on my back bumper. The back end of the semi was still next to me; to my left was the guardrail and whatever might lurk beneath that. Immediately the fish tailing got worse. I had no idea how big the wash was, how long the drop would have been. The end of the bridge was drawing closer and I knew I was going to crash. I was listening to this album, and I haven’t listened to it since…

I remember thinking how lame it would be to die in a car. I didn’t want to die in a car, but I knew the crash was going to be bad. I was totally out of control and I knew it. I couldn’t see anything.

Hydroplaning sounds like the ocean. I used to have an alarm clock that has nature sounds. One of the options was “ocean;” when the alarm goes off, the nature sounds get progressively louder and after a few minutes it sounds like a tidal wave or something. That’s what it sounded like.

I closed my eyes, but I knew the car was sideways, which meant I was past the bridge. I put my head down and gripped the steering wheel as hard as I could, thinking of bloody head injuries. I had no idea what was coming; I just waited for the impact.

It came from behind, hard. Music off. The car kept spinning, ricocheting off the side of a mountain, rocks churning beneath me. There was a less severe impact on the front and that’s where the car stopped. I opened my eyes and saw the smoke, the mountain. I looked down at myself, looking as much with my hands as with my eyes. I was totally and completely fine. I have no idea why, but nothing was wrong with me whatsoever. The car was totaled. I had 8 payments left.

Many of the contents of my trunk were on (in?) the road. As I rescued my tent from the highway, I suddenly remembered the quarts of green and tan paint, which had spattered all over the road. I was so happy to be alive, I wanted to finger-paint right there on the highway. Cars started to come, cars started to stop. It was still raining. I met a lot of nice people who couldn’t believe I was as okay as I was. Some people let me wait for the law in their suburban; they actually ended up giving me a ride to Phoenix (my friends rented a car and we went back up together). It took about 45 minutes for DPS to come. An ambulance stopped by (happened to stop by on their way back from some other accident), but I refused their services (I was fine, and that’s expensive). They seemed bummed and left. DPS finally showed and they gave me a ticket because I didn’t have my new insurance card with me. I was pissed and speechless. We took off and let them wait for the toe truck.

…got up the next morning at 5 and hiked 10 miles in the desert.

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