So, I take a vanpool van to and from work these days. It’s part of my quest to not drive the LA freeways any more than is absolutely necessary, as I feel certain that prolonged exposure to all that traffic and aggressiveness shortens our lifespans. But enough about that. I have tried, at various times, carpooling, buses, metro trains, driving alone, and now the vanpool. It’s mostly okay, and now that I’m 60% (woohoo, freedom!) I only have to do it a max of three times a week. I’ve been contemplating going back to the metro though, and last night’s experience is reinforcing that inclination.

It really was a dark and stormy night last night (we are creeping up on the all-time rain record – go LA! – for one year). There we were, cruising down the Harbor Freeway, about to enter the carpool lane. I was sitting in the second row listening to my iPod (currently playing: Digital Fortress by Dan Brown – excellent read!). Suddenly, I feel a slam on the side of the van and lift my head in time to see a spinning white pickup truck coming straight at us, its side fully exposed to the van’s front end. We whacked right into it and its camper shell came flying off and sailed over the van. Whoa! Our van’s driver came to a stop and we all heaved a collective phew and took stock of our condition. We were all okay, and then looked behind us. I’m not sure how it all happened, but we were all lined up in the breakdown lane on the far saide of the carpool lane. The camper shell was laying in between us and the car behind it. Wow! We then spent the next half hour coordinating assistance and rides. The CHP (God bless them) arrived pretty quickly and set about taking statements and getting us off the freeway. This all happened at about 5pm, and amazingly we were home by 7pm! Today I spent an hour or two getting and filling out workers comp forms, as they want us all to go get checked out by doctors to make sure we are as okay as we say we are.

I had just about recovered from the gun-shyness resulting from my last accident about a year and a half ago. This hasn’t done much to help that, but I’ve discovered it’s much easier when you aren’t the driver, merely the passenger. Still, I can close my eyes and see that truck coming at us all over again. And my shoulders and neck feel like I just recently did a bunch of heavy lifting – like every muscle shot its wad. I also realize we were quite lucky – everybody involved walked away. But it definitely has me jumpy about the vanpool. Maybe the metro is kinda slow and wee bit skanky sometimes in terms of my fellow passengers (and don’t get me started about my feelings about Nextel walky-talky phones!!). But except for the odd car/truck/suicidal idiot on the line it gets you where you need to go in one piece, and it saves me $50 a month (the vanpool ain’t cheap). Hmmm. Decisions, decisions.