Ignoring common sense, logic and reason — but not the wishes of our editor — fellow intrepid Gateway reporter Susan Schell and I set out Friday to get some info on the day’s big news: the closure of the Tacoma Narrows Bridges in both directions due to falling chunks of ice.

This was our plan: Because I have a big ol’ pickup truck with four-wheel drive — and because Susan’s tiny car was stuck in the Ice Station Zebra-like parking lot at the Gateway — we would take state Route 16 toward the bridge and get off at the 24th Street exit so Susan could talk with drivers stuck in traffic and get some pictures.

I know. What could go wrong, right?

Well, you know the old military saying about a plan not surviving contact with the enemy? That’s my way of explaining how we, predictably, got stuck in the traffic jam we were going to cover. 

We were not exactly a threat to the reputations of Woodward and Bernstein. Essentially being trapped in your vehicle due to traffic congestion is definitely not on par with clandestine meetings in dark parking garages with a source sporting a cool code name like “Deep Throat.”

Be that as it was, and with traffic moving at the speed of an advancing glacier, we had plenty of time to kill during the several hours it took us to actually get off at the nearest exit and head back to the office.

I wish I could tell you that Susan and I passed the time with heady discussions about issues of the day, or journalistic ethics, or history, or philosophy, or quantum physics.

Sadly, what follows is more typical of the nonsensical conversations in which we engaged:

Susan: (Opens the passenger side door of the truck while we’re stopped on SR 16.)

Me: “The door is ajar.”

Susan: “What?”

Me: “The dashboard says ‘The door is ajar.’ ”

Susan: “Oh, right.”

Me: “They also say love is a river. That makes marriage a bundt cake.”

Susan (laughing): “Where do you come up with this stuff?”

While we discovered our propensity for not engaging in high-falutin dialogue while caught in a traffic tie-up, we also discovered that a camera works better when it has batteries, which were inconveniently in Susan’s car.

As it turns out, we spent most of our time stuck behind a semi-truck with signage on the back indicating the company had jobs available with good pay, medical and dental benefits and a signing bonus.

I was tempted to switch careers and become a trucker, but I sensibly realized the trucker in front of us was in exactly the same position as we were.

Then there’s the fact that I can barely handle the pickup truck I was driving (ask my wife), so putting me behind the wheel of a big rig would be like strapping roller skates to a giraffe — not a pretty picture.

My poor sense of direction — I once got lost trying to find my way out of a paper bag — also made a trucking career problematic. (Again, just ask my wife.)

This story, however, has a happy ending. While we sat idle in traffic, Susan braved the elements on a few occasions and got out of the truck to speak with a few of our fellow not-going-anywhere-anytime-soon club members, and she snapped a few pictures with her cell phone camera.

You could find her reporting on our website later that evening, some of it on The News Tribune’s coverage the next day, and in our paper today.

Reporter Brett Davis can be reached at 253-853-9243 or by email at brett.davis@gateline.com.