Runaway Truck Ramps and the Reminder I Didn’t Know I Needed

So…I drove my daughter to college last week. The car was packed with too many blue zippered moving bags (which were filled with fluffy pink blankets and pillows with pink pom-poms and pink extra-long twin sheets). We had a fan that TikTok said we had to have, too many sweatshirts for someone going to South Carolina, and snacks… a lot of snacks. But my heart was full. 

On the drive, we alternated between true crime podcasts, self-help audiobooks, and what I call “memory music”… the songs that sneak up on you and remind you what it felt like to buckle them into a car seat. (Those were tough!)

Then, somewhere along I-77, somewhere in the mountains, I started noticing the signs.

“Runaway Truck Ramp Ahead.”

“Emergency Use Only.”

There was one. And then another. And then another.

If you’ve driven that stretch, you know. It’s all downhill in parts. There are steep grades, tight turns, the kind of road that makes even good brakes work a little harder (and makes you do the break sounds under your breath, like that will help).

I’ve been on those ramps before. They’ve never meant anything to me. But this time, something about them stuck.

Who Gets a Ramp?

The ramps are there for emergencies. When a truck has too much weight, the brakes overheat, and there’s no other way to stop. Those gravel or grassy paths give you an out. They’re not pretty, but they work.

And I started thinking: how often do we give ourselves permission to build that in? A place to slow down when everything is moving way too fast. A runaway truck ramp is just a safe place to stop. And not because the driver failed, but because continuing would cost too much. And we all know better, right?

The Drive Home Was Different

After her dorm room was set up perfectly enough for IG photos, all the stuff assembled, pictures hung, everyone was fed, and the hugs were over, I got back in the car alone. There was no one to DJ the playlist. No one asking what’s for dinner or if I needed a Twizzler (and yes, I did). It was just me and the road. I had time to think. A lot of time. 

And those &%#! ramps… No matter what audiobook I put on, what “kick ass” playlist I started,  they were still showing up in my brain.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That’s when I realized something else. They don’t just build one runaway ramp. They build several, a mile or two away. I think it’s because they know not every truck, or person, or me, is going to stop the first time. Or the second. Maybe the third?

I don’t know… I just found that insanely comforting. We have chances. We don’t have to get it right immediately. There is always another chance.

Let’s Talk About Downhill Grades

There have been times in our lives where everything felt heavy. We’ve all pushed hard, juggled too much, said yes when we should’ve said “not now.”

But this post isn’t about burnout. It’s not about crashing. It’s about how much better things go when we recognize the signs before the brakes give out.

So, after that looooong 10-hour drive home alone, I’ve decided to start building in my own ramps… not the ones that are gravely and grassy and ugly, but just moments. Taking the dogs for a walk without my phone. Going to bed early and putting my phone in sleep mode because I need it. Saying no without a novel-length explanation. And (trying to) leave a little buffer in my day on purpose.

It’s not because I can’t handle more. But because I want to be able to keep showing up for the things that matter.

So, maybe it’s not about always getting it right. Maybe it’s not always about being productive. I’d kind of like to think it’s about paying attention or even just trying to be honest with yourself when things feel too fast. And knowing you can always slow down, and it’s okay if it takes you a few tries to actually do it.

What I Took From Those Signs

The ramps didn’t save me from anything that day (this would have been a totally different read!). But they reminded me that I don’t have to keep going full speed all the time. None of us do.

We don’t need to earn a break. We don’t have to crash before we let ourselves pause. We just need to notice what the road is asking of us, and give ourselves permission to choose something safer.

And if you miss the first sign? It’s okay. There’s always another one up ahead. All we need to do is be open to what it is offering. I am open to it. Are you?