Far Out Son of Lung...

Burning

As I drove by the burning wreckage I could see a person fighting to exit the car through the passenger window. The flames surrounded him, wicking around his head as the flames pulled new life from the fresh air entering through a busted out window. Unfortunately, I would never learn the circumstances of the accident or the details of his survival.

I had just parted company with Rock Gal after a wonderful evening at Ozona on Greenvile. We'd met up with some other friends of mine and dinner and a drink. After a few minutes... ok, nearly an hour, of making out in the car (again) we were each headed home and looking forward to meeting at Summit in the morning for some climbing.

Heading up I-75 toward the Walnut Hill exit I suddenly saw flames at the side of the road, just before the exit. The accident had just happened, though I had not seen the incident itself. I knew it was a car but wasn't sure if it had been burning or had just caught fire. Upon seeing someone climbing from the car as I past, I swung past the wreckage and pulled over at the exit. There were several other cars present, one group of people obviously with a cell phone, so I ran back toward the burning car. As I approached the distinct popping and crackling announced the incineration of various materials in the car and the tires exploding from the heat. One good bang signaled the end of the fuel tank (no, it didn't crater like in movies) and I cautiously approached with another motorist. I ran through the thick smoke, trying to stay out of traffic and got a look inside the car from as close as I could muster. Ten feet away from the car I could feel the moisture leave my skin and the immense heat flooded off the vehicle in a torrent. I could see enough to know that no one was in the car, but at this point I also had no idea where the occupants of the vehicle were in relation to the car.

A woman had run past the wreckage with me looking for the driver and any passengers. She couldn't find them. They were not standing, sitting or laying anywhere we could see. She yelled out for them, we looked over the jersey barrier, I nearly jumped down to see if they'd been thrown from the car... but nothing. No one.

Another group of people ran down past the car to join us, it was a group of guys that had called 9-1-1, and were looking for the scoop. We chatted, talked about what we'd seen of the accident and made some jokes. In trying to decided what was popping and exploding in the trunk...
One motorist: "What is that noise? Something keeps popping and exploding in the car."
Me: "Must be all the weed in the trunk. Wait a minute, why are we standing over here? We should be downwind from that thing!"
Guy in band shirt: "Sorry officer, but we aren't going anywhere!
His friend: "No, No! Don't put that out yet, there's still another brick in there!"

High fives all around.

Yeah, good times.

posted by GreSam @ 09:48