Quote:
Originally Posted by mayankjha1806 The place where i come from is known for dense fog all through the night. |
Where is the place?
Quote:
Originally Posted by mayankjha1806 What they do best, is follow, at very slow speeds. The Trucks and Buses just follow each other and never overtake, keeping safe distance. |
Convoy driving - not something that comes easily to Indian drivers, except Army drivers! I despair each time some fool tries to force his way ahead in the fog, only to realise that he cannot see better than the lead driver, and then actually driving 5 km below the speed the lead car was driving at.
So here's another story of my fog driving:
The year, IIRC, was 1990, probably our 3rd cross-country roadtrip. The road, the old single-lane NH2, between Allahabad and Benaras. Sometime in the depth of winter, probably the end of December that year. The time, around 2 AM. We were on our way, Delhi to Kolkata, with my elder brother and I rotating spells at the wheel. Our mother was the other passenger. The car was our trusty old 1972 Amby Mark-2, running quite stock except for a carb mod that allowed it to achieve 100 km/h faster than other Ambys could!
Petrol was cheap, around Rs.8.50/per litre.
There were patchy sections of fog on the highway, perhaps 500m - 1km at a time, followed by clear zones. Hardly any traffic on the highway (in those days, you could count on the fingers of one hand, the number of private LMVs you came across in a day on the highway), and the few trucks we crossed were happily crawling along at 30-40 km/h. Then, along came this maverick truck, running at 60+ km/h, and overtook us in one of the foggy stretches.
We followed the truck, and overtook it back again in one of the clear stretches, only to have it cross us when we slowed down to 40 km/h through the next foggy section. This kept happening for the next 20-30 km, until we figured out that the average pace the truck was maintaining, through fog and clear zones, was about the same as what we were doing by driving hard in the clear and slowing down in fog. We decided to let him be the "sweeper", and followed behind it, in the clear as well as through fog. We could make out that the truck was perceptibly driving faster than it was earlier, maintaining 70+ km/h now, even through fog.
After some time (it would perhaps have been over half an hour), the truck pulled into a roadside
dhaba. We thought this guy was doing a good job of leading us through the foggy patches, so it might be worth our while to share a glass of tea with him as well as refresh ourselves, and pulled in behind him.
Then began a course of highway education. We chatted up the driver, a young guy from Kumaon, and the first thing he said was:
Aap kahan jaa rahe ho? Hum toh aap se darr gaye thae! Agar aapka Bangaal wala number nahin hota, toh hum aapko sadak se nichey utaar detey... (Where are you going to? I got scared of you! If you weren't displaying WB-plates, I'd have forced you off the road...)
Now that was news to us. How could we have managed to scare the driver of a 10-tonner? Why would he want to force us off the road? It transpired that eastern UP, and especially that sector, was dacoity-prone, and the
modus operandi of people intending to loot trucks was to follow and overtake them, and then force them to stop, by pulling up ahead. However, such people usually had a UP-registered vehicle, not one from WB. The driver was very relieved to see we had a lady in the car too, and on hearing that we were headed from Delhi to Kolkata, not trying to rob him of his belongings and truck!
He himself was headed to Benaras, where the transport company that owned the truck was located. We told him about how easy it appeared for him to go through fog, and he laughed:
Chhoti gaadi ko fog mein aksar mushkil hoti hai. (Small cars always have difficulty in fog). It took me another couple of years to figure out that the high seating position with low-level headlights of a truck give the driver a big visibility advantage and minimal glare when traversing through fog, and the physics behind it.
After a couple of rounds of tea (the driver refused to let us pay for it, and since it was a
dhabawala he knew, the fellow wouldn't accept money from us), we set off again, him leading and us following.
Agar aapko kahin rokna ho toh do-chaar baar dipper maar dena. Aur maen rokunga toh aapko meri "backbatti" se pata chal jayega. (If you need to stop, flash your headlights a few times. And if I stop, you'll know from my rear lights.)
Another hour into the drive, the truck pulled over to the side of the road. There was no
dhaba there, no village, no lights, no human being visible at all. And it was foggy. A little nervous, we decided to pull in ahead of the truck, rather than behind, and switched on our reversing lamps (yes, we had fairly powerful reversing lamps installed in the Amby, operated through a manual switch with telltale light on the dashboard).
The driver switched off his lights but kept the engine running, and so did we; the cabin light came on, the helper jumped out, and from the rear section of the cabin emerged two young women, who also jumped out of the truck. Something (probably money) changed hands, the helper climbed back on, and the truck was on its way again. The education continued - this was our first introduction to
prostitution on the highways.
We made it to Benaras at around 6 AM, the truck pulled into a layby, we waved, and carried on to enter one of the most treacherous stretches of highway that ever existed - the NH2 section through Bihar. Truckers used to say:
Dilli say Kalkatta jaise sadak na ho, agar beech maen Bihar na ho. (There's no other highway as good as the Delhi-Kolkata stretch, if only Bihar did not exist in between).