Mountain driving is an art form
The only way to master it is through experience and following simple rules
This is the time of year I can truthfully say I don’t miss driving the mountain passes. I do not drive the highway much anymore, especially in the winter.
As a kid, I loved the snow. As the driver of a commercial rig, I hate it. Always will. What’s to like about not knowing how long before disaster strikes? I can live without that fear. And to put an exclamation point on the concept of big rigging when the snow flies, I hate tire chains too!
Some of you may find this hard to believe, but back when I first started driving truck, right after Noah parked his ark, a rig driver was given respect and allowed to make his own decision about how to drive. We were not mandated as to when and where to install tire chains. If we thought, by experience, that we needed them, then it was done. No flashing neon signs ‘telling’ drivers to pull over and chain up. Only to pull out onto dry pavement, and drive a long way before encountering five flakes of snow then dry pavement again. Yes. It was nice to be respected. Mountain driving is an art form in itself. There are so many factors that come into play that the driver of a four-wheeler has no concept of. If he/she did, then maybe giving the rig more respect and a lot more room on the snowy highway would make for a lot easier journey up and down the mountain for all involved.
What’s involved, you ask?
Setting the scene first. Coming up or down the mountain highway, there is not much warning of sudden weather changes. Dry highway. Go around a curve and it’s covered in snow. What’s under that snow? Black ice? Sand and gravel and salt? Nothing? Who knows? Nobody.
If the change is that fast, then you can bet your last dollar the highway crews don’t know about that section of roadway yet either. So, experience tells me, black ice under the snow. I steer my rig over as close to the curb as I can, looking for fresh snow, so I can keep traction. I make sure my engine compression brake is off, and I slow down and grab a lower gear… no automatic tranny in my cab.
My chains are visible, hanging on the rack, but not on my tires. There had not been any CB chatter about snow on such-and-such stretch. I’m on my own. Make sure the outside mirror heat is on, so I can see everything around me as I navigate this section of winter wonderland.
I don’t like using the engine compression brake — called a Jake brake — on mountain highways because while that system does a super effective job of slowing a rig down, it slows the drive axles only. Meaning that when the power unit suddenly slows down, the trailer keeps going and the only thing it can do is try to pass the rig. That’s called a jack knife. The truck and trailer suddenly take up the whole highway before the whole unit either goes over the side or slams into the rock face and untold damage to everyone nearby is the end result. If the driver is extremely lucky, he can try to pull the unit straight by applying power, but the odds are not in his favour.
Best way to control that situation is never turn the Jake brake on while winter driving in the mountains. Use the gears and lightly tap the brakes for the whole unit. Drive in fresh show on the side of the highway where sand, gravel, salt have been plowed up by earlier passing snowplows. It may be messy, it will be a lot slower, but the driver will live to wash that brown crud off his rig at the bottom of the mountain.
I followed those simple rules so many times I’ve lost count. I was yelled at and cussed at on the CB radio by drivers who were anxious to zoom by me, but I never cared. I never once had a jack knife, but many who passed me did.
I always managed to have sweaty armpits driving the mountain passes in the dead of winter, and I never cared for that situation. So, give me the flat lands any month of the year, and I am one happy driver who enjoys hanging his tire chains on the rack, and enjoying dry armpits.
I could fill a newspaper with stories about life on the road, but why not share yours? Send them to driving editor Andrew McCredie at amccredie@postmedia.com