Decades ago I rode to Yosemite from Davis with my wife and her younger sister. We were briefly on Hwy 49, not a good idea then and certainly not something I would do today. A log truck came along and was clearly not going to give us any passing room. As he rolled past me I could feel his tires brush my shirt. Instinctively, I yelled something about fecal matter. My sister-in-law misheard me and thought I had told her to hit the ditch, which she did. I watched in horror as the rear wheels of the truck rolled right where she had been prior to ditching. The driver had no way to know she had moved; he was simply going to kill her.
Coincidentally, that sister-in-law almost met her death the next year in a creek very near that spot. She was rafting with a group of fellow river guides (she worked all over the world for a few years). She went over and got trapped under the raft. Fortunately, one of the other guides was able to get a handful of her and drag her up. Now she sticks to safer activities like rock climbing, X-C ski touring and single-track multi-day racing.