Signs, Signs, Everywhere Signs - Not The 70's Song

We left Bakersfield, California yesterday morning to finish our deadhead to Sacramento and the last two trucks from JDJ Trucking going to West Valley, UT.

We stopped for lunch at Pea Soup Andersen's then arriving at JDJ Trucking at 5 pm (3 local).

Neither Joe nor I followed through with tying the seatbelt securely to the steering wheel of the back truck. Thank God there was no real damage done. A sign got knocked over.

An off duty Nevada Highway Patrolman pulled in behind us. Joe walked back to see the damage, found none on the truck and the street sign down. The patrolman displayed his badge and gruffly told Joe that either Joe was going to call 9-1-1 or he was going to make the call.

There followed a very demanding and acusatory conversation, by the Nevada patrolman, informing Joe that he had been driving in such a manner as to be dangerous. Joe watched and listened to the patrolman, when he had wound down in his diatribe and saw that Joe was not cowering in fear the rant stopped for a moment.

Joe walked to the downed sign, picked it up and put it backwards in the hole it came out of. Once the sign was again upright he came back up to our trucks, still on the phone with a 9-1-1 operator.

I high tailed it to the back truck and got the steering wheel firmly secured.

By this time the Nevada patrolman decided he had not made a big enough impression on Joe so his shoulder holster with gun were now on full display.

Two local officers appeared. One stopped in front of our trucks and the other stopped behind the Nevada patrolman's pickup. The three officers were gathered together near the sign, the Nevada patrolman gesticulating and holding forth declaring his importance in this matter. Joe thought his presence was needed so he went back to join the group.

Some minutes later the local officers decided the Highway Patrol was needed and one was called.

One of the local officers inspected our trucks for damage, went to the sign and turned it the right way around. Finished with these duties he then went back to the group that now included a Highway Patrolman on motorcycle.

Joe went back to find out what fate would be decided on him.

A few minutes later the Nevada patrolman, along with his glowering wife, drove off. Must not have gone in their favor.

I anticipated Joe would return with a ticket for an insecure load that would cost a whole lot of money.

It seems the Nevada patrolman, with all of his officious behaviour - declaring his Police Officer status and saying "Officer Jones, or Officer Simpson (whatever their names were on their tags) got so overbearing the California Highway Patrolman told the Nevada patrolman he could leave the scene and they would handle it. The California officers all agreed since there was no damage done we could leave without incident.

We went to the 49er Truckstop in Sacramento for Joe's Nevada permit and we got out of town.

Tonight's stopping place was back to the Western Village Inn at Sparks, Nevada with no further incidents or police intervention.

It is well and truly time to get home and off the roads. The signs all indicate this.
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