This morning Susan Kaye’s son and my son, both age 26, set out to make the seven-hour drive to Idaho to bring her home. Adventure! Loud Music! Road Trip!
All highways were open with no travel advisories. Well, sort of. Traffic was moving, but …
Two hours out, after following a chain of snowplows, they began to realize that conditions were dicey at best. I ought to explain that the western end of the Columbia River Gorge doesn’t get cold enough for truly effective plowing — underneath the snow is usually water, which immediately freezes once the plows pass. After seeing cars spin out, the guys became concerned. Travel had slowed to a crawl, which meant ten or twelve hours instead of five. Ice skating in an SUV — in the dark — was fast losing its appeal.
“This is the best it’s going to get,” Will told my son.
The voice of experience speaks. Will remembers a horrifying family car trip along this same stretch of highway … in white-out conditions. It was then that Susan Kaye uttered a now-classic line: “They make mini-series about things like this.”
So instead of taking Susan Kaye and her mom out for tacos tonight (they’ve been cooped up in the house for almost a week because of snow), our sons will sit around here watching sports. Bummed about the glorious Road Trip that was cut short.
Susan Kaye will continue to telecommute from Coeur d’Alene.
And I’m working on tonight’s installment of THB.
Though I live in the South, I experienced our version of this about fifteen years ago as I followed our school’s basketball team to a game in Belton, SC. I was driving, and I do not do well in conditions such as these. My Michigan-born husband, who can drive in anything, was at home, and I was understandably terrified. Finally, Gayle got in with me to drive my car, and her teen-aged son drove hers. That didn’t do much for her nerves, but mine were considerably better.
I’m so glad that your sons had the good sense to give up the idea before something terrible happened. I know that you and Susan must also be happy that they did so, even if she had to stay in Idaho.
I’m fine where I am. I now will be coaching it home by Greyhound. My husband is being a real prince about it. Thankfully. A spouse who is not understanding about these kinds of SURPRISES is no fun.
How blissful to be ignorant of danger … one of the blessings of childhood. (If only my sweet babies knew how broke we were when they were little. Or, well … now!)
I recall driving in my 1972 VW Bug (remember those?) on the freeway during a ferocious rainstorm, the kind we seldom get in the Pacific Northwest. My three young sons were chatting away. The poor wipers could barely handle the downpour, even on the highest setting. Suddenly I found myself hemmed in, front and side, by 18-wheelers. The VW was hydroplaning on the water, I could feel it. But I was the mom; I could not scream. Somehow I forced myself to remain calm, praying and keeping a firm grip on the wheel.
And then I heard a little voice. “Whee! This is like a roller-coaster!”
The trucks moved on. And I learned something about childlike faith.
My daughter, Mel, would have been watching the speedometer, worrying. She did that from the time she was about five.
Yikes! My dreadful experience was driving a van full of snow camp bound Jr. Highers when we hit an ice storm. They were having a great time. I felt like vomiting after sliding my way until I was able to park at the camp.
You’re so right about kids, Laura.
I am ansty in a car. Laura will tell you driving with me in the passenger’s seat is some sort of punishment. In automotive interventions, I have so little faith.
Well…
The forecast is for 14 inches of snow in the Columbia Gorge tonight through tomorrow. Hoo boy. Isn’t it something how a few degrees changes rain into a blockade?
Hoping and praying for the best when you travel home …