School buses and narrow dirt roads

The small town of Dekalb, Texas sits within Bowie County, whose claim to fame is the burial place of Bonanza star Dan Blocker, who played Hoss Cartwright. Dan died in 1972 of a pulmonary embolism at age 44, but not before starting the Bonanza steak house restaurant chain. County roads out that way are mainly dirt and gravel, and not much gravel at that. Winters are always rainy, and drivers cut a path down the center of these roads, forming 2-wheel rather than 3-wheel lanes the rest of the year.

They're really 1.5 lanes, because when you meet someone coming the opposite direction, one of you has to ride one wheel off in the ditch to get by. The roads are graded by big road graders that crown the road in the center so water will run off to its ditches carved on each side. It sounds better than the reality, where it's difficult to get over far enough and not ditch your own vehicle.


It's late afternoon and I'm out in rural Bowie County delivering on these sloppy dirt roads when I met a school bus coming my way. Looking ahead, there are no driveways between him and me and we're 100 yards apart. Being cautious, I'm barely moving forward, trying to figure how we're going to get past one another without swapping paint and mirrors.

I noticed the jackass in the school bus wasn't slowing down, instead, barreling down on me like we were on a state highway. I inched over as far as I could without sliding into the ditch and stopped the truck. I figured this bus driver goes down this road every day, so maybe he knows more than I do on judging the width of the road. Yet instead of slowing as he approached, he's going no less than 20mph as he comes upon me. This SOB must be crazy! He had a kamikaze damned-if-I'm-stopping-now look in his eyes whose idea of safe driving is get the hell out of his way.

I see the dozen or so kids on board as he goes by and unable to correct his steering ever so slightly, he slides in the ditch just past me. That doesn't slow him down; this guy starts flooring it, throwing mud like big truck contest, and not making any progress, his right wheels grind to a halt in the mud. The bus is leaning so far to the right, he can't open the door, so the kids exit through the back door. I ran back to offer assistance, but the driver must have been a Mennonite. He ignored me completely and barked at the students, "Who's got a tractor close by?" One of the students spoke up and jumped out the back door, heading up the road in the direction the bus was going getting stuck.

The driver didn't want my help, so I continued on. To this day, I've never understood the guy's thinking how barreling down a muddy, narrow country dirt road as if no one was there wasn't a stupid thing to do. I wonder how many other times he had slid off into the ditch and got stuck? Idiots.