The Highway to Ruin

Speed, Spirits, and Sudden Stops

Folks who took their time getting out of bed Monday morning might have found their breakfast a good deal more peaceful than those who happened to be traveling U.S. 50 at the break of dawn. The Nevada State Police found themselves occupied with the business that keeps doctors employed and insurance agents up at night—a head-on collision near the Retail Road intersection.

According to the troopers, a Chevrolet Suburban, minding its westbound manners, suddenly found itself in a most disagreeable entanglement with a Honda Ridgeline, which, for reasons best known to the driver and his bottle of misjudgment, abandoned its rightful lane and galloped headlong into oncoming traffic. The Chevrolet’s driver, having been dealt the worse hand in this sorry exchange, was whisked away to a hospital with what medical professionals like to call “life-threatening injuries”—a term that, when translated from its original Latin, means “very bad indeed.”

As for the pilot of the runaway Honda, fortune smiled upon him in the form of minor injuries as the Nevada State Police saw fit to balance his luck by extending him an invitation to their overnight accommodations on the suspicion that he had been imbibing inspiration from sources stronger than coffee.

Meanwhile, over in Reno, the morning’s grim business continued. A motorcycle crash on North Virginia Street near Talus Way brought further misery to an already beleaguered Monday.

The Reno Police, the Fire Department, and REMSA responded to the scene, where they found that two individuals had made their final departure from this world, with speed as their likely accomplice. Their names, out of respect for family and good manners, remain under wraps until kinfolk can get informed.

The RPD Major Accident Investigation Team is now sorting through the wreckage, piecing together what went wrong. Should any well-informed citizen wish to contribute their knowledge to the authorities, they are encouraged to contact the RPD’s non-emergency line or submit an anonymous tip to Secret Witness.

And so, the highways have reopened, travelers press on, and somewhere, in some dim-lit saloon, they’re raising a glass to toast poor judgment—while a jail cell patiently awaits his return.