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There is a story behind this picture. Several months ago, I was in my car driving around Lake Charles, LA about which is 50 miles west of where I live. That big bridge in the distance is Interstate 10 going over the lake. As some of you know, I drove an 18 wheeler for 19 plus years. I started driving in 1986. I had just trucked down from Ft Wayne, Indiana where I had gone through truck driving school for a major trucking company. My company asked me where I wanted to go for my very first run. Well, I wanted to pass through my home in Louisiana and then go to Arizona to see the west. They obliged. I was in my very first truck, a brand new freightliner cab-over. Heading west from the house I had to cross over that bridge which was a pretty steep climb. I was scared to death I would stall out somewhere in the middle of it. Upon approaching the bridge, I kicked that cab-over in the butt and put some black smoke through the stacks as I barreled over the bridge. Needless to say, I got over it just fine (it wasn't that steep) but I will never forget how frightened I was that day. I think of it every time I see that bridge.