I'd mentioned trucks, earlier
I have a lotta Respect (big 'R') for people who drive for their living. Most people take the privilege of driving for granted, and, as a result (I think) . . .
. . . most people just aren't any good at it. Turn signals, lane discipline, common courtesy --- even common sense . . . aren't exactly on-display on most o' the roads I drive. And I drive mostly for fun, so --- I only see a little bit of the nonsense that goes on out on the road
Now --- imagine being out on roadfulls of generally-pretty-clueless motorists . . . for a living
I tell ya --- if I was in an 18-wheeler . . . I'd have a fighter-pilots 'scoreboard' on my door
Well. Things are a LOT different Up Yonder
Biggest thing is . . . the trucks themselves. I swear --- I've never seen rigs as big/fast/scary as I saw on this trip. Not that there were that many of them. I usually caught sight of 'em when they were coming in for a landing, to take on fuel
Like this Beast. 18-wheelers, huh? I count 30. And check-out that nose-gear. Contact-sport qualified, or what?
And these things are fast. Not like Down South, where the traffic, the confines, and the Constabulary . . . keep a pretty tight leash on things. It's wide open Up There. Especially as I got further North. And notta lotta topography to slow 'em down, either. With room to pick up a head o' steam . . .
For instance . . . coming up to the Alaskan border, from the Yukon, I found myself being paced by a truck so big/fast that I could see the trees at the roadside do a wave, in my rear-views, all from this big boiling cloud of dirt that truck kicked up as it passed. Had to do ~100 MpH just to keep 'im behind me. Didn't get out of his way (!) 'till I was somewhere where I wouldn't have to take a gravel bath as he powered by
Yikes!