It's late in the evening. The sun has set, and the thunderclouds flash with splashes of lightning. The road we're driving on is under construction. We could detour easily, but I like to amuse myself by driving through the construction zone to see how things are progressing. We come this way almost every weekend.

Last week, when we went through earlier in the day, we found that they had made a little detour around a section of the road where they were replacing some large culverts. Really large culverts, something like twenty feet in diameter. There was a deep ditch right in the middle of the road, straight down on either side. There were barricades to divert traffic so that no one would drive into the big ditch across the road.

It's pretty much a dirt road. All of the pavement has been removed; the surface has been graded and packed. In the distance, we can see the flashing lights of emergency vehicles reflecting off the surroundings. A few seconds later, we come around the corner, and see the lights themselves. A couple of fire trucks, an ambulance, a RCMP car. What's happening here?

Turns out that somebody was blasting along and either didn't see the barricade, was drunk and didn't care, or thought it would be fun to try to jump the little man made gorge. He, or she, died instead. The top of the truck's cab was crushed in, and it's wheels spun helplessly in the air. When we went by, emergency personnel were standing around talking. It didn't look like they were in a big hurry to get the jaws of life out.

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