Late last night, from 10:15 PM to 12:30 AM to be exact, I drove 65 miles from the big city to my home---in a snowfall. Yes, it took The Flaming Bore 2 hours and 15 minutes to go 65 miles because I was scared I was going to slide off into oblivion and never be seen again until after the meltdown. Making it worse, I couldn't find my glasses--just my sunglasses I'd used earlier in the day. My advice: don't wear sunglasses after dark. In a snowstorm. When it's foggy out. I was better off just jamming my own nearsighted eyeballs against the windshield.
I had a passenger in this ordeal--my great nephew Bo, age 16, who slept through the first half of the drive. That's how confident he was that his weather-challenged dear auntie could deal with any peril that came my way. I forced him to stay awake during the last stretch through the Flint Hills and look for the white line on his side of the highway shoulder because I was having a heckuva time finding it--and any semblance of a pathway, for that matter. As we snailed our way down the hills, my hands formed a white-knuckle grip around the steering wheel and I prayed for Divine intervention.
We finally staggered into the driveway over two hours after starting our little Nightmare on Highway 54. "Eureka! We have found it!" I'll tell you why this time of year is called a "Winter Wonderland." You'll wonder how in the hell you ever made it home!
1 comment:
so why the heck were you out driving so late? and don't you have weather forecasters in Kansas? glad you made it home, i've been there in those white-knuckle moments. it feels so good when you quit hitting your head against the wall.....
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