Post-mortem on a Toyota

Here are photos of the car that I was driving when I had my accident two weeks ago. It is not a pretty picture and I still feel terrible about this occurrence. Although I seem to have recovered reasonably well, and my bruises don't hurt nearly as much as they did two weeks ago, my heart still goes out to the other drivers.

Last week I managed to work up the courage to drive by that same stretch of road to evaluate the conditions and what might have led to this accident. There are numerous overpasses as this represents an interchange between two freeways. Those overpasses, at 3:30 p.m., leave large stretches of the road ahead in shadow.

The freeway also curves slightly to the left at this junction, and there are large pillars that hold up the overpasses. These pillars also block part of the view of the road ahead.

Finally, I should emphasize that the highway undulates in this stretch of the road. It curves up and then down. I remember reaching the crest and then looking at dismay at the cars that were stopped in my lane of traffic. It was a sudden discovery and I didn't have time to take any other steps to avoid the collision other than to hit the breaks. I knew there would be a terrible collision, and the woman in the car in front of me told me afterward that she saw my car approaching and also knew a collision was inevitable.

My conclusion is that this is a very dangerous stretch of road. The visibility is poor because of the shadows of the overpasses, because of the pillars that block the view ahead, because the highways is curving to the left so that those pillars are in my line of sight and because the road undulates up and then down. These factors may in part be explained by the contours of this area, since it does constitute a hilly area with the roads forging a path through them. Of course, there are much more dangerous stretches of road that leave drivers terror-struck.

My worst drive has taken place while on the Pacific Coast Highway (PCH 1), driving from northern to southern California. The road is a narrow two lane, and if you are driving south, you are on the outer ledge of a cliff that leads down dramatically to the ocean. The road curves constantly as well, and if you aren't driving at highway speeds, the cars bunch up behind you with insistent and foolhardy drivers maniacally gesturing at you. My other nightmare drive was on the interstate 5 freeway in the early morning hours (between 4 and 5 a.m.), during a stretch in the central valley, when a dense fog descended and cut down visibility to one or two feet one each side. I couldn't even see the road and didn't dare stop to the side lest I prove a target for another driver behind me.

I still wonder if I might not have suffered a terrible injury on that drive, and if all that I have experienced in the intervening years is just an illusion that is filtering in my mind as I lie in a coma somewhere. Yes, I might very well be a brain in a vat, to recall the thought experiment commonly described to philosphy students at the university when they are studying Cartesian epistemology. How do I know I exist?

The number one factor behind this crash, of course, was that this is rush hour and you must always be on the highest alert. I had thought that I was, but my perception would seem to have been faulty. I'll never forget the sickening feeling of seeing the cars stopped in my lane, and knowing there was nothing I could do to avoid the collision.

Yes, cars were bunching up in waves, as I remember studying in my physics classes at the university when we were being introduced to wave structures. Yes, cars drive in packs, and they leave open spaces in between that give a sense of false security. My friend also told me that he notes the same phenomenon has applied in his work as a retail assistant. Customers arrive in packs, and then they have long stretches in which there are few customers arriving.

The problem is, in this instance, we are talking about motorized vehicles traveling at dangerous speeds, not congestion at a shopping outlet. In this case, I have driven on this highway hundreds and hundreds of times. I still can't explain what happened. In this case, it was a "chronicle of an unforeseen calamity", if I may modify the title of a Garcia Marquez novel.

P.S. I can't help but anthropomorphize the car that I was driving. It was a trusty vehicle, and it had over 75,000 miles. It would have given several more years of trusty service. Even when we heard of all the problems with Toyota recalls due to the publicized problem of sudden acceleration years ago, I never stopped trusting this car. To me it had a somewhat forlorn appearance, tucked as it was in the back of a busy auto repair shop. According to the insurance claims officer, it has been totaled, and we will be given market value for it. This may sound silly, but I feel like apologizing to the car for the damage it sustained. And yes, of course I feel terrible about the other drivers involved in my accident, and they of course take precedence.

Jurupa Park at Southridge

I was able to attend an arts event at a public park this past Saturday. It was very, very hot in the beginning, and the temperatures didn't help to encourage people to attend. However, it cooled down as the event progressed and it was very pleasing to see massive storm cloud formations in the sky, carrying with them a promise that would be fulfilled on Sunday when we woke up with rain during the early morning hours.

These hills had never seemed particularly scenic to me, and that was one of the reasons why I had never ventured out to explore this area. What ends up happening with these parks is that they are commonly taken over by raucous off-roaders who bring all manner of motorized vehicles to perform what they deem are reckless but exciting daredevil maneouvers. They will arrive in battered trucks then use noisy vehicles to spin and race around and around, all while blaring loud thrash metal music. That was one of the reasons why I had avoided this particular park, thinking I would find more of the same.

It turns out that this park abuts a residential area and, as such, much of this raucous activity that is carried out in more desolate locations is missing here. I don't doubt that people will arrive to carry out other dubious activities in this location, such as using drugs, but at least during the daytime it seems to be fairly well monitored. The neighbors are not going to put up with unseemly activity, although I wonder how many of these middle class denizens have ventured up these hills.

They were holding a bike tournament on the day of the festival, and this event was scrupulously kept apart from the art festival that was taking place next door. I found it necessary, however, to venture over to the Jurupa Hills area, and was able to take a few photos. It seems to be fairly well used, but I wasn't able to explore more than the entrance. For one thing, my presence would have been a distraction for the bicycle course that had been set up. For another, it was over 100 degrees, and I wasn't prepared for a hike, especially if I was carrying fifteen pounds of camera equipment and a heavy tripod. I need water and good shoes, and in this park I don't doubt that there are snakes about that might cause injury to the incautious hiker. I'll have to return in the future, perhaps in the fall when temperatures have decreased.