Around 8:30 this morning, I was driving Skippy, our friend and neighboring dog handler Tiffany, and a sled dog named Opal into town, because Opal was scheduled to get spayed, and we all needed groceries.

It, of course, has been raining for the last couple days. After passing Fritz Creek (about 7 miles from Homer), I watch a big Chevy Tahoe in the opposite lane drift off the side of the road right as we pass it. I continue to watch it in my mirrors, waiting for the driver to pull back onto the road. Instead, the truck veers further off, and disappears down the hillside the road is cut from.

“What are you doing?” Skippy asks.

“Watching a car wreck.” I responded. “We have to go back!”

Both Skippy and Tiffany agreed, as I pull into the next driveway and drive back to where I saw the Tahoe vanish. The driver is already back up by the road, seemingly unharmed but extremely shaken. About 20-30 feet down the hill are the remains of her vehicle, resting on and against some smallish trees (they looked like birch trees to me, but I’m not quite versed in the local arbor yet), smoking. Skippy leans out the window and huggs her, and asks if she was hurt. The driver says no, and start crying, so Tiffany gets out to take care of her while I drive a little further down the road to find a safe place to park.

Fortunately, there is a gravel pull-off about 50 feet away, and Skippy calls 911 while I hike back up the hill to see what I can do. Tiffany had already climbed down and turned off the ignition, but found smoke inside the truck, and had called the fire department. I take the driver back down to our car, so she can sit and also so she does not have to look at her crumpled truck.

A woman stops to see what is wrong, and then brings us back a flare to put at the top of the hill so we don’t get creamed by some other speeding vehicle. Tiffany and I walk back up the hill while Skippy stays on the phone with 911 and keeps her arm around the driver. I’ve never lit a flare, and while Tiffany and I try to figure out the simple 3-step instructions (the flare was old, and the instructions were hard to make out. Really, they were!), another truck pulls over and a woman hops out with orange cones. All of this is before any emergency personnel have shown up.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is, Alaskans are awesome.

About 20 minutes after the accident, and 15 minutes after the initial call to 911, a volunteer fireman arrives. Shortly thereafter, an ambulance and a firetruck pull up. I stay on the hilltop, waving at the occasional person who continues to drive fast, past a flare and several orange cones, on a wet road.

An amendment: Alaskans are awesome but can sometimes be a little slow on the uptake. Some of them, at least. :-)

Finally, the driver is declared undamaged, though she apparently got verbally ripped apart by the paramedics for not wearing her seatbelt. Her story, as told to Skippy and the paramedics, was that she was between shifts at her job, and was trying to get home in a hurry (20 miles away). She took a curve too fast, and the rear of her truck slid out. She over-corrected, and that’s when she went off the side of the road. So…we arrived just in time to help, and just late enough to avoid getting smeared.

We agree to give her a ride back into town, and drop her off at a towing company, so she can begin the process of recovering what was left of her car.

Then we take Opal to the vet clinic and start our day. I’m only just now able to sit and write this all out, at 9pm.

So, no pictures tonight. Instead, picture yourself not in a hurry. Plan your days out with your full attention, to avoid over-scheduling and feeling like you need to rush to accomplish everything. What is it worth, really? If you have trouble meeting deadlines, perhaps you should adjust your expectations, instead of your speed. Please take care.