Around 3:00 a.m. on April 29, 2007, a truck driver set off on a routine delivery from the Valero oil refinery in Benicia, California. The sky was dark and the roads were empty as he pulled out, heading to a gas station in Oakland, 40 miles away, at the wheel of a tanker containing 8,600 gallons of gasoline. The route took him down I-80 over the Carquinez Strait in Crockett before merging with the I-580 just outside Berkeley. There he rumbled onto a ramp and steered into the interchange where I-80 crisscrosses I-880 and I-580, a tangle of roadways known as the MacArthur Maze.
Like most highway interchanges, the Maze was both exceptional and unremarkable. It was built in the 1930s, when the Bay Bridge was constructed between San Francisco and Oakland. Its official name was the East Bay Distribution Structure, but it was soon dubbed the "Maze" because of its serpentine knot of interchanges and overpasses. ("MacArthur" was added after the construction of the MacArthur Freeway in 1966, connecting the Bay Bridge to the California 13 highway.)
One of its idiosyncrasies, invisible to commuters, was the steel in its beams. In the '30s, the U.S. had plenty of steel mills, and steel structures were common. But in later decades, most bridges and overpasses in California were made entirely of concrete.
By 2007, a quarter million vehicles crossed the Maze on weekdays. It connected the Port of Oakland—where almost all of the containerized goods that moved through northern California were loaded or unloaded—to the rest of the state.
But at 3:42 a.m., the tanker was alone on the road like Pac-Man munching through his labyrinth. The driver turned onto the southbound I-880 ramp and approached a curve. The truck clipped a construction pylon, then slammed into a guardrail and ricocheted off, landing on its side just as the road passed under the eastbound I-580 connector.
Sliding across the pavement in a shower of sparks, the truck screeched to a halt in the middle of the freeway. Gas poured from the tank into slick puddles that reflected the overhead freeway lights. The driver crawled from the passenger window and backed away in the eerie quiet.
Then a massive fireball lit the night sky over the San Francisco Bay.
Published in Partnership with Epic Magazine |
Around 3:00 a.m. on April 29, 2007, a truck driver set off on a routine delivery from the Valero oil refinery in Benicia, California. The sky was dark and the roads were empty as he pulled out, heading to a gas station in Oakland, 40 miles away, at the wheel of a tanker containing 8,600 gallons of gasoline. The route took him down I-80 over the Carquinez Strait in Crockett before merging with the I-580 just outside Berkeley. There he rumbled onto a ramp and steered into the interchange where I-80 crisscrosses I-880 and I-580, a tangle of roadways known as the MacArthur Maze.
Like most highway interchanges, the Maze was both exceptional and unremarkable. It was built in the 1930s, when the Bay Bridge was constructed between San Francisco and Oakland. Its official name was the East Bay Distribution Structure, but it was soon dubbed the "Maze" because of its serpentine knot of interchanges and overpasses. ("MacArthur" was added after the construction of the MacArthur Freeway in 1966, connecting the Bay Bridge to the California 13 highway.)
One of its idiosyncrasies, invisible to commuters, was the steel in its beams. In the '30s, the U.S. had plenty of steel mills, and steel structures were common. But in later decades, most bridges and overpasses in California were made entirely of concrete.
By 2007, a quarter million vehicles crossed the Maze on weekdays. It connected the Port of Oakland—where almost all of the containerized goods that moved through northern California were loaded or unloaded—to the rest of the state.
But at 3:42 a.m., the tanker was alone on the road like Pac-Man munching through his labyrinth. The driver turned onto the southbound I-880 ramp and approached a curve. The truck clipped a construction pylon, then slammed into a guardrail and ricocheted off, landing on its side just as the road passed under the eastbound I-580 connector.
Sliding across the pavement in a shower of sparks, the truck screeched to a halt in the middle of the freeway. Gas poured from the tank into slick puddles that reflected the overhead freeway lights. The driver crawled from the passenger window and backed away in the eerie quiet.
Then a massive fireball lit the night sky over the San Francisco Bay.
Published in Partnership with Epic Magazine |
|
|
| Better airflow, less noise. |
|
|
| Save yourself $274 and buy it now! |
|
|
| You can save on everything from solar generators, solar panels, power banks, and lights and lanterns—perfect for camping this summer. |
|
|
| Keep your workspace tidy and reduce the chances of inhaling dust and debris. |
|
|
| It's a sea change, alright. |
|
|
|
|
Tidak ada komentar:
Posting Komentar