A few weeks ago when it was snowing everywhere and I became addicted to the Washington Department of Transportation website, somehow deluding myself into thinking that if I only monitored the passes enough it would somehow keep them open. Silly and completely irrational I know, but that's how my subconscious works.
It kept snowing and icing and snowing and icing all up and down my route from Wenatchka to Portland and I didn't want to have to drive 25 mph on chains for the entire 300 mile trek. I went back and forth on the studded tire idea but the $500+ it would take to get my car all rigged up was just more than my cheap little accountant self wanted to pay. But when I read a news report about how seemingly everyone was careening off the road to their death I finally sucked it up and spent the money.
Good thing I did. We ended up leaving the Wenatch at 6:00 am, just as the snow started coming down. By the time we made it to the pass on I-90 the road was already lined with snow and every muscle in my body was completely tensed up. You'd think after surviving through an awful Boston winter I would have been more comfortable in the snow but no such luck. Matt was completely relaxed through the whole of it, except for when I started to fish tail and put on the brakes while turning the steering wheel to self correct. All of which, I guess, were the WRONG move in such a situation. I'm learning and growing.
Well, we made it to Portland with more or less clean roads and I thought we were home free. My sister, Nichole, said that other than the ruts, everything was fine. Ruts - I didn't know what she was talking about so I dismissed it. Dismissed, that is, until we got two miles from my parents' exit and learned just what "ruts" are. Ruts, for those people who are not currently living in the Portland area, are what happens when tracks are made in wet snow which in turn slushes over which then freezes. Hmm . . . I'm not sure that's the best description. Imagine you're at Disney Land and you're riding Autopia. Now, imagine that instead of tracks holding your car in place it's really ice. At first it was terrifying. It felt like my little Corolla was off-roading on I-5. But Matt continued to laugh through it with a sort of, this is the "best road trip I've ever been on" attitude . I mean, I guess they weren't so bad. It's not like we could get hurt in our little ruts. The ruts demand loyalty. I tried getting out of my rut but they were having none of it. I quickly decided that it was better to take the long way home than to attempt an ill-timed turn.
We finally made it to my parents' house. It's normally a 5-hour drive, but with the ultimate driving experience it turned into an 8+ hour excursion. The "Gilligan's Island" theme song kept going through my head. Especially the part of the song about how they had signed up for a "three-hour tour, a three-hour tour".
The roads are now clear and I feel silly driving around with my studded tires but they have more than paid for themselves, in my opinion, and while it's clear here, it's still snowing in my little hamlet Wenatchee. Wish me luck as I try driving home here sometime this next week.
2 comments:
It's official I'm wishing you luck getting home.
I am glad you made it safe, hopefully you made it home. I used to have to dig my car out of the snow every morning and then drive the back roads to work every morning. It was a bit of an adventure. But I have become some what of a wuss in the last 7 years living here.
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