In one of my first construction jobs building docks, we had a trailer for hauling material. It was part wishbone—my boss literally made it out of pressure-treated 2×12, gradually bending three plies for each wing of the wishbone together in his driveway for a week or so. I wish I paid more attention to how he did it.
It was also part boat trailer because we used it to deliver our materials to their final location: The ocean. He would back it down the boat ramp and into the water and float the cube of whatever it was we were delivering that day, usually walkway ramps and stanchions.
It was also long, like 16 or so feet.
Anyway, the point is I was young and pretty above average stupid and I didn’t know what I didn’t know. I also lacked any detectable form of common sense, so why would I question it when he told me to go pick the trailer up from where we left it earlier.
So I did that.
Crossing a two-lane, double-yellow-line road on the way back proved to be, as it often was summers near the water, busy. I really had to time getting the truck through oncoming traffic in both directions.
You see where this is going yet?
So as I see the opening in each direction appear, I take a sip of my drink, and punch it across the yellow line.
It was only then—in the middle of the road with cars coming at me going 40 in both directions—that I realize the trailer also has to make it through the tourist gantlet. Oh no…
Zoom.
It did, but barely. Like, barely,
So while this video is a little elementary, it might be worth showing to the new folks on your crew. It might save your trailer. Or your skid steer or ganbox. Or some kid’s life on vacation on a sandbar with at least one dummy who’d like to have that 120 seconds back.
