Donnie vs. The Rockies (part 3)

3RD QUARTER

My phone started ringing, but I couldn’t answer it. The two previous rings didn't get answered either. Channeling my driver's education class and gripping the wheel at 10 and 2, I could feel my knuckles stretching the skin on my hands to the limit. Periodically I would have to remember to breathe and blink. Seriously, I have never been so stressed behind the wheel in my entire life.

The wipers had just smeared any clarity I had down the side of the mountain. Before that the snow was already caked on the windshield, but the cheap wipers and the lack of wiper fluid made the situation much worse. I don't know what was more difficult, driving with low visibility or the jerking sliding motion the U-Haul truck made when I tried to apply the brake on the mountain declines. It felt as if someone was physically pushing me from behind. If someone had stopped in front of me for any reason, I would have hit them.

The portion of I-70 we were on wasn’t equipped with a shoulder to pull off on, so stopping to clear the windshield wasn’t an option. I also tried blasting the heat in attempts to melt the snow from the inside, no luck.

I had lost sight of Mickey 30 minutes ago, but I knew she was in front of me somewhere. I guess that’s why she was calling me because she had lost sight of the U-Haul, but I just couldn’t answer.

I'll be honest with you; I was scared.

In moments like this, I tend to think about the immediate past. Have you ever done that before? You're in a tight spot and all you can think about is what you were doing BEFORE you got in the mess? I was saying to myself, “Remember when we were sitting in our hotel room in Sterling, CO just relaxing? Wasn’t that great?” As if that Super 8 was some sort of glorious utopia.

My phone rang again. From my mummified position in the driver’s seat my eyes darted a quick glance at my cell phone vibrating in the cup holder near the dash, which now suddenly seemed far away from my reach. As if I was balancing on a tight rope for Barnum & Bailey, I slowly tilted my body to the right, fumbled my fingers around and got a hold of the phone all while keeping the U-Haul truck balancing on a downward curve at 40 miles per hour.

Mickey didn’t sound any better than me, but her problem was different. The bright lights weren’t helping the migraine headache she was dealing with. She needed us to pull off the road as soon as possible to take a break. At this point we both needed a break. I assured her that everything was going to be OK and that she should slow up and drive behind me.

Many miles later and my eyes were still piercing between my windshield which was looking more like a set of cheap mini blinds. I found a sign that indicated a gas station was approaching 10 miles up. While the conditions continued, my body relaxed a bit knowing there was a possibility for a break. 15 minutes later I almost missed the exit due to the snow caked up on the exit sign. Somehow I maneuvered the U-Haul truck down a slippery ramp and eventually under the protection of a Shell station.

I turned off the engine.

My head buried in the wheel.

Quiet.
Peace.