It was pretty quiet there for awhile on Carbon Canyon Road, but within the last few days three more incidents of a lack of awareness-slash-distraction-slash-chemical or other impairments-slash-some or all of the above occurred. All of them, in themselves, were minor, but show that people somehow keep veering off the highway in ways that could very well lead to more serious accidents (which would, presumably, attract some official attention.)
Incident #1 is a single skid mark (read: motorcycle) at the intersection of Old Carbon Canyon Road that appears to show the vehicle heading eastbound, cutting the curve by moving into the oncoming lane and then having to do a little corrective action back towards the proper lane of travel because, logic dictates, someone else had the audacity to be coming the other way in the correct lane.
Incident #2 is the typical mowing down of CalTrans signs (provided courtesy of the hard-earned money of "we the people") at the S-curve. Given that these signs fell (or were otherwise partially indisposed) in the eastbound direction but are adjacent to the westbound lanes, one could reasonably conclude that our errant vehicle operator crossed over the opposite lane and briefly left the roadway before hitting the signs.
Incident #3 appears to be similar with more insignificant signs denoting 1) the mileage on the San Bernardino County side of good ol' 142 and 2) a reflective sign (that's supposed to, maybe, help keep cars off the road--little good it did that poor sucker) being thoughtlessly flattened by a westbound driver moving into and past the oncoming lane.
So, again, nothing to worry about, more than likely, until someone is badly injured or killed.
Which reminds me that, last evening, I saw two Chino Hills sheriff's patrol cars at the Party House Liquor Store in Sleepy Hollow holding counsel with one of our young residents who's been in the habit of riding an unlicensed pocket motorcycle without a helmet at night without a headlight. Now, this was about 6:30 when it was still light out, but whatever results were expected by the constabulary with our impressionable youth, there was obviously no impression made.
Because . . . (drum roll, puh-lease) at 9:45, three hours and change later, our young friend was motoring around the narrow, unlit one-lane roads of Sleepy Hollow and on Carbon Canyon Road without a care in the world (like: Do I need a license to drive this motorcycle? Should the cycle have plates? Should I be wearing a helmet? Should I be driving in the dark without headlights? What would happen to me if I met a car around one of the unlit curves in Sleepy Hollow or on Carbon Canyon Road? And probably several other hypothetically interesting questions).
Obviously, someone called the "incident" in, otherwise there would certainly have been no reason for two (and, why two exactly?) patrol cars to be present (I was following one before he joined his compatriot), but it stands to reason that the juvenile daredevil in question will continue testing his sure sense of invincibility until either 1) the police confiscate the motorcycle or 2) said daredevil ends up with a damaged vehicle, in the hospital, or, given that he lacks basic head and neck protection (and riding without headlights in the dark, in case that point was missed the other two times heretofore mentioned), worse.
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