I was running slow enough as it was due to the pea-souper, but matters were worsened by being on a 10-percent grade, further forcing me to stay with the lower gears and being unable to take advantage of any breaks in the fog to speed up. Cheesy as it sounds, it really was a dark and VERY foggy night. I was dead-heading a rig on I-10 eastbound in California (just outside Cabazon if you care) towards Palm Springs. I'll have to go back a ways for this one, to the mid-eighties.
If you want it so damn bad, spoiler at the end of the post - if you don't read the post first, though, the joke is ruined
