Everything Comes Full Circle

Many people believe in some version of Karma or dogma under any other name that is essentially a doctrine of fate as the inflexible result of cause and effect, or an action seen as bringing upon oneself inevitable consequences... simply, one might say, "what comes around, goes around".

This is how I envision this working, as example: I found myself driving a U-haul truck from Salt Lake City to San Francisco with all of my earthly possessions aboard - it was a smaller variety of the trucks. Along the route between SLC and SF, especially along the Utah-Nevada border, is a whole lot of nothing. The interstate runs in straight lines as far as the eye can see... drawing the image of the proverbial "ribbon of highway".

Of course, it was my intention to get through that vast wasteland as quickly and efficiently as possible. However, as anyone who has ever driven a rental moving van knows, those trucks' speed are governed. This one in particular was capped out at about 60 miles per hour, which by today's standards, wouldn't even permit the legal speed limit. As you can imagine, this was particularly disconcerting to me.

I soon found that if I could get behind a big rig moving pretty fast, I could draft behind him... the effect of which was to pull me along as if I were tethered to it. Imagine my delight when I found a semi doing about 80 mph. I quickly darted into his draft and instantly found myself doing a nice, comfortable cruising speed.

I should point out here that truckers typically don't care for people who drive so close to their rear bumpers. Incidentally, when you're drafting, you're close enough to the truck's rear end that only a yardstick or two could connect you.

I felt completely comfortable doing what I was doing, in spite of the protestations of this particular truck driver, who had tapped his brakes a couple of times to let me know he didn't care for my being this intimate with his truck.

This did not deter me one bit... after all, I'd driven a truck before and I was sufficiently confident that I knew what I was doing - just staring at the bumper and tail lights in front of me... watching for any deviation in distance between us. All other concerns of the road, I'd leave up to the driver in front.

Now, a truck weighing upwards of 80,000 pounds and moving at 80 mph is a difficult thing to stop or slow down much. This fact was not lost on me.

Without any warning or indication, this truck I'd been essentially attached to suddenly "whipped" into the left lane. This, for a truck of his size and speed, was in and of itself a very dangerous maneuver. No sooner than he was in the next lane, I understood exactly why. This was his final attempt to let me know he disapproved of my proximity. Directly in front of me now was another full-sized semi travelling at about half of my speed. It was impossible for me to slow enough to avoid the truck now before me.

My reflexes took over. I quickly moved to the other lane and saw the slow moving truck go by in a blur.

Fully appreciating that my lead had had enough of me borrowing his speed, I drifted back until I was no longer able to move my truck beyond its governed speed. The difference made me feel as if I were standing still at an idle.

Looking back, I'm not sure of which I was more upset about... the fact that I was now travelling at a full 25% slower rate... or the fact that my speedy lead tried to kill me - needless to say, the combination made my blood boil.

I was relegated to seek a remedy by yelling with all my energy, knowing full well I was the only listener. In the back of my mind, though, I took comfort in the thought that "he'd get his..."

Sometimes, vengence comes sooner than we could hope for. After driving another half an hour or so at my heretofore reduced speed, I observed a sentinel of the Nevada State Police screech out from the grassy median, spraying dirt and gravel from beneath the wheels of his cruiser as if he were Roscoe P. Coltrane in "hot pursuit" in the Dukes of Hazzard.

Whatever his intended target, I knew it wasn't me, seeing as how I could hardly attain the speed limit, let alone exceed it.

The trooper sped off so quickly he was almost immediately out of my sight. I didn't think anything else of it until about five miles down the road. Up ahead I saw the trooper on the side of the road, car parked behind an eighteen wheeler... my former speeding partner.

I've heard said that revenge is a dish best served cold. Well... even though this wasn't my revenge, this dish was HOT... and it was delicious!

I slowed a bit as I passed the trooper and his freshly caught prey. To show my appreciation to the trucker for our short, intimate relationship, I offered a short beep of the horn and a gesture that indicated he was "number 1" - and then, I left him in the dust...

Of course, the thought later occurred to me that perhaps I took too much glee in his misfortune. After all... had he not shaken me from his tail, I might have found myself in the sights of Nevada's finest