On the road again

Hey Boomers! How many of you remember Iowa’s old-style license plates that began with the number for each county according to its alphabetical order?

So license plates on cars registered in Buena Vista County began with number 11, followed by four more numbers. Numbers from neighboring counties were Cherokee 18, Clay 21, Pocahontas 76, Sac 81. Others I remember were Kossuth 55, Palo Alto 74, Plymouth 75, Polk 77.

Adair was #1 and Wright brought up the end of the list at 99.

In the days before seatbelts, our family of eight used to pile into our ’59 station wagon for occasional road trips back our old stomping grounds of Bancroft, Algona and Whittemore in Kossuth County. When Dad wasn’t listening to a Twins game on the staticky AM radio, we’d try to guess where the cars on the highway came from. Dad was the referee because he seemed to know every nook and cranny in the state. He could identify every car’s county plate as well as the county seat.

This system of a plate beginning with the county code followed by up to six numbers was used in Iowa from 1922 to 1978. Then in 1979 the state took all of the adventure out of car spotting by switching to the current system of three letters followed by three numbers. The DOT did permit the county’s name to be printed across the bottom of the plate, but it wasn’t the same without the challenge.

Iowa changed its numbering system to conform with other states. With the mushrooming number of cars, the mixture of letters and numbers allowed for exponentially more license plate possibilities.

But it took all of the fun out of license spotting.

And in the years since, Iowa has created more than 80 special plates, from colleges to ducks and pheasants to military service, among gobs of other causes.

In grade school we memorized all of Iowa’s counties alphabetically and by location. I doubt if that is taught today.

WE’VE NOTICED while traveling in recent years the increasing number of shredded truck tires scattered on interstate highways.

It doesn’t seem so much a problem on two-lane highways. Maybe that’s because the high speeds of interstates cause more heat and friction on truck tires.

Hitting one of these large tire remnants can destroy the front end of a car, throwing the vehicle out of control and into the path of other traffic. The result can be tragic.

These tire carcasses pose significant dangers on interstate highways, particularly those that run around cities. Interstate 80 south of Chicago widens to as many as five congested lanes in each direction. If you encounter an abandoned tire in your lane, surrounded by 18-wheelers, there’s no room to maneuver. Hit the brakes at 70 miles per hour (or faster) and you’ll likely have the car behind you in your back seat. You grit your teeth and hope for the best.

Some car navigation apps give warnings about obstructions in the roadways. Waze is particularly good at this.

It’s left to state police or DOT workers to clear the highways of these obstacles. It’s a dangerous task and even if crews are dispatched immediately after a call, thousands of vehicles can encounter the tire before workers dodging traffic can get to it.

At an average cost of $500 per truck tire, operators of 18-wheelers want to get as many miles as possible out of their tires. Good semi drivers check their tires daily to make sure they are roadworthy. Nevertheless, despite best efforts, accidents still happen.