I'll paste in the short version of the story copied from my facebook post, and a couple pictures.
The balance of the weekend was berkeleying epic. I won my group and class both Saturday and Sunday, won the class season championship, and in the afternoon not-for-points feature race spun twice and had a fantastic 16-lap battle for the overall with a great friend who's a racer I really admire and respect. He got 1st overall, 1st in DSR class, I got 2nd overall, 1st in CSR.
With these classes being combined and renamed next year, it was for both of us our last races in our respective classes. And my parents came to the track and got to see it.
So - the whole sordid story:
As I was saying "Don't berkeley up; secure season championship"
Stop and go traffic on 270 north. It's freed up and we're going about 35, I'm letting a bigger gap open to the 28' RV trailer ahead of me when the pop-up camper ahead of him panic stopped. He in turn stomped the brakes. I saw brake lights and tire smoke, matted the brakes, looked for a hole, and the fishtailing RV eliminated the options about the time I realized that it was a simple case of physics not favoring me. He was just stopping better. I centerpunched the trailer at I'd guess, 15 or 20 mph. Airbags didn't deploy. The mighty Tacoma was dead in the water. Shifter wouldn't move, key didn't do anything, it's stuck in the middle of the left lane of 270. I get out and meet the driver of the pop-up and the RV trailer. They discuss their contact and decide there's no visible damage.
Maybe 5 minutes later I'm talking with the RV driver, facing away from my truck when he says "Uhhhhh!" and gestures behind me. The Tacoma is evidently having death throes, and after sitting inert, is rolling slowly toward me, the park pin in it's poor transmission sounding a death-rattle. I jog toward it hoping to jump in and stab the brake, but it's accelerating and I realize I just have to step back and let the backside of the Armco barrier for 270 south do it's job. Which it does. Everyone is all freaked out by this, but I'm all "Well, it's out of the way ~now~.
At this point I realize that Priority One is obtaining a replacement pickup truck with a cap and towing capacity, and pronto. I call Danny (name redacted) who:
- Answers his phone
- Cheerfully says yes, I can use his truck and he'll bring it to me immediately.
Then the state police show up along with the fire department and eventually a barrage of tow trucks. My guy unceremoniously drags the poor thing out of the Armco, points it more-or-less north, and after I explain again that yes, I have made arrangements for the trailer and gear, we tow the whole pitiful mess a mile down the road to the weigh station where I unhook the trailer and unload the truck as though I'd never see it again. Which I may well not. This is where the tragedy turned comedy becomes yet funnier. There's one state trooper hanging out, and he's keeping the tow guy from taking the Tacoma. Then another shows up, and another. They're all talking to me but they seem a little cagey. Finally trooper #1 comes over and stands before me w/ #2 and #3 behind. He informs me that there's something we need to discuss and he'd prefer to be direct. I allow that I'm a fan of that approach as well, and to please proceed.
"This trailer" he says, gesturing at the only trailer in the otherwise empty lot, "Has been reported stolen in Montgomery County". I smile. "Oh, This is an easy one. My ~OLD~ trailer, a 14' steel 1988 "Big Tex" brand was stolen from Pittman Drive in Silver Spring last year. This Maine trailer tag had been issued about a week before it was found to be missing. I reported the theft to the Montgomery County PD and it hasn't turned up yet. I bought this trailer in Woodbridge, VA a few months later and it's titled and registered in my name. The tag was transferred. You know, I may have given you the old registration; does the VIN match the stolen one?"
"It does, and this one fits the description perfectly"
"Actually" I say, "This one has a ~plywood~ deck - the other was described as a "wood deck with several newer planks in the center", and the stolen one had ""2 pipes" on the front of the deck and a winch. If you'll check the VIN plate you'll see. Or I probably have the new registration in my messenger bag"...
"Sit on the front of the car, sir. I'll be back."
Eventually he comes back to inform me that "My story checked out" I offer that it was in fact, fact. We heave all my crap in Danny's truck, I drop him back at his office, and finally head to Summit Point, the whole clusterberkeley having added only 3 hours to the trip.
