Sometimes the human brain can play tricks on us and sometimes it doesn’t function at all.
Located behind the shopping plazas Plaza Melanie and Plaza Alaina (Bryan’s Sportsbar and Remax Realty) on the eastern end of Fremont Boulevard, is a large sandy area, void of buildings, vegetation or other obstacles. A perfect place to race cars or get stuck.
When driving down Fremont on a recent trip to Rocky Point, I noticed a sizable crowd of people and vehicles congregated behind the two commercial plazas. Reminiscent of the racing activity on Competition Hill in the Cholla Bay area, drivers of trucks, cars, ATVs and motorcycles were busily testing each other’s skills and speed.
Racing thrills have been around as long as the wheel. The advent of the international combustion engine, coupled with unlimited imagination, only added to the fascination. The urge to go faster than the other guy/gal is a primeval urge affecting many. Even the Flintstones were afflicted with the malady.
However, not everyone, for various reasons, succumbs to the go-fast temptation. Apparently, some would rather defy the laws of logic than mash down on the gas pedal. While science cannot fully explain the apparent contradiction, it has established a possible reason for the differences in behavior: Above average intakes of cerveza consumption can promote irrational conduct sometimes resulting in people doing dopey things.
At least it sounds plausible. Which is why I believe the driver of a Chevy pickup truck must have been under the influence of too many Dos XXs when he attempted to jump a 3-4 foot high sand berm and immediately discovered gravity and soft sand will get a truck stuck every time.
With the vehicle high-centered atop the berm and after several attempts to power out of the predicament but only succeeding in spinning and burying the wheels even deeper, the frustrated driver eventually decided another beer-break was necessary to reevaluate the situation.
Apparently realizing it was useless to continue the usual forward-backward rocking motion, an alternate plan was immediately put into place – crawl under the teetering truck and begin digging away the restraining sand.
What could possibly go wrong?
Oh, I don’t know, how about the supporting sand suddenly giving way allowing the vehicle to come crashing down on the inebriated dude?
I didn’t stick around to see if his plan was successful. If the guy was determined to dig his own grave, I didn’t want to be summoned to be a pallbearer.