For several years during one period in the early eighties, and for another several years in the mid nineties, I worked in Spokamentro, about a 45 mile drive from home. It was INVARIABLY a 4x4 that was in the ditch.
One day I was rollin along nicely "spaced" between two groups of cars, trying to drive slow enough to stay on the road, yet fast enough not to be overtaken by the nuts behind. I was driving maybe 45 in slushy, mushy, crap, and here comes some guy steamin along in the left line just MOVIN. He no sooner got passed, that he made about a 1080. On one of his rotations, he slid past my car and missed by inches. I was as far to the right as I could get, nearly clipping the markers.
I figured, "last I'll see of HIM." NOPE. He got back there and gathered his courage, wiped his a$$ I bet, and came steamin by AGAIN. That time he made it, and as soon as I saw him coming I slowed way down. He kept goin' that time.
'People never learn."