Wednesday, April 11, 2012


Last Saturday night I drove my truck off the Hurstview bridge. I landed smack dab in the construction zone, where they have the old 6 lane 121A highway scoured out for ten miles to make way for the expanded 16 lane 183 Freeway. My truck was OK, it’s a ’75 Chevy. “Like a Rock” baby, they don’t make ‘em like that anymore, and other than being upside down, she didn’t look to much the worse for the wear after taking a 30 foot fall.

All I needed was someone to help me turn her right-side-up and I could be on my merry way.

So I started climbing up the sheer face by the bridge, making my way up to Hurstview. I got almost to the top, using all my rock climbing skills. Up until then I had been completely unaware of having any rock climbing skills. I looked down into the canyon of the construction zone and I could see a few of the workers, wearing their hardhats and bright orange safety vests and I thought to myself “They probably wouldn’t much like me being up here like this”.

I turned back to my climbing, i was close to the top now, but a rock lodged in the side of this cliff gave way, tumbling down into the construction zone.
I tried to scramble the last few feet to the top and grabbed another rock, and it gave way as well, and a few pebbles too, and then the next thing I knew I was coming down the mountain in an avalanche of rocks and dirt that had lay undisturbed since the Pleistocene era, and the workers looked up to me and hollered ‘Hey, you get down from there!” but it was too late…

And from all the way out from I-35, clear to Euless Westpark Way, the entire 183/820 Expansion project collapsed in on itself.

I woke up, and I was tearing at my sheets, hanging upside down off of my bed

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