There's one less Camper Special out there now
#1
Join Date: Mar 2010
Location: San Francisco East Bay
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There's one less Camper Special out there now
Driving home from work yesterday (7/21/14), my truck got totaled.
Don't show these pictures to your truck, she'll have nightmares!
Fairly serious sudden stop for me, but the little import behind me was late on the up-take, and plowed into the back of my truck at speed. I'm not sure he even hit the brakes.
I could tell it was going to be bad.
I tried to flash my brake lights, then braced for crash.
The car hit me and pushed me into the truck in front of me. Incidentally, that truck was a Ford F150, 1980s vintage.
Stuff flew all around the cab. My coffee mug sent cold coffee all over.
The back of my head hurt.
The engine was winding out. I realized I was trying to brake with the gas pedal. I took my foot off the gas and shut the ignition off. Steam was coming out from under the hood.
Got the door open (it STILL works really well!) and made the l-o-n-g step down to the pavement. The driver of the car behind me put his feet on the pavement before I did.
The back of my truck was up in the air, sitting on top of the car that had rammed into me. The car behind me took off my rear bumper (it was a "Barden" bumper, if that means anything to you), took off the spare tire that was mounted in the carrier (the tire ended on top of their car) and ripped both sets of leaf springs from the frame. The drive shaft broke at one end and separated from the transmission and differential. It came to a stop about 30 feet behind the import.
The canopy separated from the bed on the right side and several toolboxes spilled onto the pavement, along with an extension cord, a ladder, a spare battery, my battery charger and some loose hand tools. My jumper cables ended up on the front bumper, in the gap between the two trucks. I have no idea how they got there.
I tried to use my cell phone, but I wasn't able to find my headset and the microphone on the cell phone itself doesn't work any more, so until I found the ear piece, I wasn't able to call anyone. I finally found the earpiece in the passenger's side foot well.
Lots of folks were asking me if I was alright, and I usually answered "No". I'd hit my head pretty hard, but didn't lose consciousness. Later I realized that I was more depressed than injured.
I walked around the accident site and picked up this and that, throwing most of it into the back of the truck. A couple of US Army types (both female) stopped to render aid if needed. One was a Captain, I think the other was a Corporal. That was nice of them.
The fire department showed up with their paramedics. I think one person went to the hospital (a passenger in the front truck). A couple of units from the California Highway Patrol showed up. We blocked the three left lanes of the freeway. I got an interesting reaction from the fire department when I mentioned that I had "construction explosives" in the back of the truck. I had to explain several times that they were in a locked box, that they were probably stable, they were fairly new, .22 caliber, and used for setting nails into concrete. They mis-heard me when I said "about 300 rounds" -- they'd thought I'd said "300 pounds".
I tried to get pictures, but I wasn't really all together and I kept getting distracted by other things. I'm not particularly handy with my phone's camera anyhow. The pictures here were shot later, after the tow truck dropped my truck in their yard.
Called my wife and told here where to meet me, then we went back to the yard and cleared out as much as seemed reasonable from the truck. I had a couple of thousand dollars worth of tools in the truck and I didn't want them to disappear.
It's hard to let it go. My relationship with that truck goes back to 1973, when I started dating the daughter of the man that owned it. We're married now, and looking at our 37th anniversary next month. I've spent thousands on repairs, countless hours working on it (starter motors, head gaskets, all kinds of things), had the engine rebuilt and I can't count the number of times I've set the points.
The truck's been to Washington, Oregon, California, Baja California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Utah. It may have gone elsewhere before my Father-in-Law bought it. It had a dealer's emblem on it from Fort Collins, Colorado. My wife used the truck when she dropped me off at the border of Mexico, in Campo, California, in 1991, so that I could begin my trek on the Pacific Crest Trail. She also used the truck to meet me at several places along the trail that summer, Yosemite being the most notable.
It's history now. The truck's going to the junk yard and the vultures are going to pick over the remains.
Don't show these pictures to your truck, she'll have nightmares!
Fairly serious sudden stop for me, but the little import behind me was late on the up-take, and plowed into the back of my truck at speed. I'm not sure he even hit the brakes.
I could tell it was going to be bad.
I tried to flash my brake lights, then braced for crash.
The car hit me and pushed me into the truck in front of me. Incidentally, that truck was a Ford F150, 1980s vintage.
Stuff flew all around the cab. My coffee mug sent cold coffee all over.
The back of my head hurt.
The engine was winding out. I realized I was trying to brake with the gas pedal. I took my foot off the gas and shut the ignition off. Steam was coming out from under the hood.
Got the door open (it STILL works really well!) and made the l-o-n-g step down to the pavement. The driver of the car behind me put his feet on the pavement before I did.
The back of my truck was up in the air, sitting on top of the car that had rammed into me. The car behind me took off my rear bumper (it was a "Barden" bumper, if that means anything to you), took off the spare tire that was mounted in the carrier (the tire ended on top of their car) and ripped both sets of leaf springs from the frame. The drive shaft broke at one end and separated from the transmission and differential. It came to a stop about 30 feet behind the import.
The canopy separated from the bed on the right side and several toolboxes spilled onto the pavement, along with an extension cord, a ladder, a spare battery, my battery charger and some loose hand tools. My jumper cables ended up on the front bumper, in the gap between the two trucks. I have no idea how they got there.
I tried to use my cell phone, but I wasn't able to find my headset and the microphone on the cell phone itself doesn't work any more, so until I found the ear piece, I wasn't able to call anyone. I finally found the earpiece in the passenger's side foot well.
Lots of folks were asking me if I was alright, and I usually answered "No". I'd hit my head pretty hard, but didn't lose consciousness. Later I realized that I was more depressed than injured.
I walked around the accident site and picked up this and that, throwing most of it into the back of the truck. A couple of US Army types (both female) stopped to render aid if needed. One was a Captain, I think the other was a Corporal. That was nice of them.
The fire department showed up with their paramedics. I think one person went to the hospital (a passenger in the front truck). A couple of units from the California Highway Patrol showed up. We blocked the three left lanes of the freeway. I got an interesting reaction from the fire department when I mentioned that I had "construction explosives" in the back of the truck. I had to explain several times that they were in a locked box, that they were probably stable, they were fairly new, .22 caliber, and used for setting nails into concrete. They mis-heard me when I said "about 300 rounds" -- they'd thought I'd said "300 pounds".
I tried to get pictures, but I wasn't really all together and I kept getting distracted by other things. I'm not particularly handy with my phone's camera anyhow. The pictures here were shot later, after the tow truck dropped my truck in their yard.
Called my wife and told here where to meet me, then we went back to the yard and cleared out as much as seemed reasonable from the truck. I had a couple of thousand dollars worth of tools in the truck and I didn't want them to disappear.
It's hard to let it go. My relationship with that truck goes back to 1973, when I started dating the daughter of the man that owned it. We're married now, and looking at our 37th anniversary next month. I've spent thousands on repairs, countless hours working on it (starter motors, head gaskets, all kinds of things), had the engine rebuilt and I can't count the number of times I've set the points.
The truck's been to Washington, Oregon, California, Baja California, Arizona, New Mexico, Texas and Utah. It may have gone elsewhere before my Father-in-Law bought it. It had a dealer's emblem on it from Fort Collins, Colorado. My wife used the truck when she dropped me off at the border of Mexico, in Campo, California, in 1991, so that I could begin my trek on the Pacific Crest Trail. She also used the truck to meet me at several places along the trail that summer, Yosemite being the most notable.
It's history now. The truck's going to the junk yard and the vultures are going to pick over the remains.
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#8
Join Date: Mar 2010
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I've no idea how fast the guy was going. Had I thought about it, I'd have taken a picture of his dashboard/instrument cluster. 'Course if it's electronic, it wouldn't have been displaying th speed from the time of crash. Maybe the police report will have an estimate. From the brief glimpse I got of him in the rear view mirror, I could see he was going too fast and wasn't going to be able to stop in time. I'm glad I was able to brace for the impact.
As an estimate, and I can't be real accurate about this, I'd guess he was going about 50 when he hit.
#9
Join Date: Mar 2010
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I told her "Cars are replaceable, mothers are not".
It wasn't either 24 or 680, it was I-80 in Berkeley, just past University Ave. That stretch has always been a nasty piece of road.
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Glad you are OK. Watch for a big headache tomorrow. THat's what happened to me last time I was rear ended.
And I'm sure plenty of members would enjoy getting some of those fine parts that remain. Some must die so that others may live. The surviving exterior trim should fetch you a nice bottle of Scotch.
Be Well Brother.
And I'm sure plenty of members would enjoy getting some of those fine parts that remain. Some must die so that others may live. The surviving exterior trim should fetch you a nice bottle of Scotch.
Be Well Brother.