It was raining heavily before I left for work this morning, but it had stopped by the time I left the apartment building.
As I walked toward the bus stop, I heard tires skidding somewhere up the hill. I looked over and saw a pickup truck skidding down Republican Street. The truck wasn’t going particularly fast. It was going much slower than the speed limit. (I’d say 15 mph, at the most.) It just seemed that it had no traction at all on the wet street. Its brakes were obviously working – the wheels were locked in place.
It was like this truck was driving on a sheet of ice.
I’m no mechanic, but I’d guess its tires were completely bald.
It skidded completely through the intersection, finally stopping before it hit a parked car on the opposite side of the intersection.
I was glad I hadn’t left any earlier, or I would have been crossing Republican when the truck arrived, unaware that it was unable to stop for the stop sign.
As I crossed Republican Street, I looked over at the truck. Its reverse lights had come on. It started backing up, toward me. I actually ran to a safe distance.
The truck backed up until it was able to turn onto northbound Summit Avenue. Soon, I heard skidding tires again. The pickup truck couldn’t even stop on a level street!
I was glad I was walking in the opposite direction. The thought crossed my mind that I should call the police, but I doubted they would do anything, especially after the runaway bunny incident. I didn’t even have the license plate number.
I made it to the bus stop safely. A 43 arrived, and then broke down right as it left the bus stop. The driver pulled over to the curb on the opposite side of Summit Avenue, apologized, and announced that he couldn’t go any farther.
Several people headed back to the bus stop. About a dozen people, and I, started walking down Olive Way.
Phillip may disagree, but I’m not an especially fast walker. The dozen people were soon far ahead of me, and I was walking alone. That was fine with me. I have plenty of extra time planned into my morning commute. In fact, I considered stopping into Broadcast for a latte. But I decided to keep walking.
I walked as far as the bus stop at Bellevue and Pine, in front of the Cherry Street Coffee House. I could see several of my fellow 43 riders far ahead, walking all the way to Downtown. I waited at the stop, and an 11 bus arrived before too long.
I rode as far as Westlake Station, waited for a Link train, and made it to work with time to spare.