The ever-present little white trailer

Does anyone besides me get annoyed every time they drive through the intersection at 500 North and 1500 West (the canal road and the Maeser highway)?

I know, some of you probably never have reason to go that way, but since it is half a country block away from the high school, and otherwise a main artery to the west end of the valley, a lot of people do.

I am one of them, and I usually drive through it twice a day on weekdays. Both times I find myself feeling cramped, facing restricted vision, and becoming increasingly grumpy.

A year or so ago, whichever entity is responsible for road maintenance there put in a new stoplight, widened the roads a bit and made it easier to see adjacent traffic and safely travel through the intersection. Mind you, the project took a while. I was overjoyed when it was completed so I could execute my daily commute with one less hazard.

My happiness was short-lived though. One day I “noticed” an unmarked. little white, enclosed trailer parked there, just barely off the road. Like six inches beyond the white outside line. Three safety cones were set beside it, and that was it. I didn't give it much thought then. Surely it would be gone the next day. It wasn't.

I idly wondered for a few days after that what the heck that trailer was doing there. One day I imagined that it was a horse trailer for a short horse that might have broken down there. Another day I thought it might be a camp trailer for the water master who had to keep a close eye on the farmers. Then I thought it must have been abandoned by someone trafficking in something illegal like body parts.

A few days later I began to seriously wonder just how a little white trailer could be parked beside a main road, a few feet from a stop-lighted intersection, and not be hauled off, impounded, or moved by some law enforcement cadre, or better yet, side-swiped by some texter. Believe me, there has been plenty of time for either to happen.

By the way, it took only two days for the law to track down some of my high-school kids when their unregistered clunker really did break down by the roadside—far away from any intersection, on a back-country lane, and well off the shoulder besides. They were nearly written up for abandoning a vehicle, which was completely untrue. They hadn't abandoned it, they just didn't know how or when they were going to move it.

I began to ask questions. I asked Mr. B. I asked some other family members. Whenever I remembered, I asked all of the trailer-savvy people I met what the little trailer was and why it was there. A complete mystery.

Finally after days and days, I asked the right person—someone in a position to know the answer. He does know who and what, but the why there and for how long he doesn't know.

When I tell you, you will think my imaginations about the purpose of the little white trailer weren't too farfetched at all. Actually they sound downright plausible in the face of the reality.

As a matter of fact, you wouldn't believe me if I told you, so just pick one—short horse trailer, water master camper, or dead body parts. Any one is as good as the real story.

I am half tempted to attach a sign that says something like “trailer for sale, call 555-5555.”

I am hereby telling you kids who are test-driving your fixer-uppers to make sure and break down on a busy road near an intersection. Just carry three safety cones in the trunk, if there is one, and put them out before you leave the scene. Then just get on with your life.