ROCKY MOUNTAIN WHITEOUT
I'm sitting at the coffee shop counter in Little America, Wyoming waiting for my hot turkey sandwich and ease dropping on the guy next to me, as he talks on his cell. "Now, how am I gonna get there for the weekend? I got to fly to Baton Rouge and if I get this job...." (silence). "No I'm not worked up. It's GQ. I'm cool as the other side of the pillow." That's a new one on me but I like it. He snaps the phone shut and stares off into space like the rest of the single men at the counter. That's the road these days: truckers and workers away from home. No one looks happy but me. This turkey sandwich rocks!
I had to wait for 80 east to open the other side of Salt Lake, so I got a late start. It was closed due to snow slides. Once I got through the pass the road dried up and except for some flurrys it was an easy run into Wyoming. The radio is bleak in America. A steady diet of classic rock and Christian format has beaten down even the most stalwart hipster wannabe. If ipods didn't exist the youth would think Bauchman Turner Overdrive was still playing sold out arenas and Jesus was selling tickets. I flip it off and travel in silence.
About 100 miles west of Cheyenne the road turns suddenly slick and in an instant I'm in a cloud traveling 80mph down a mountain. Then it starts to snow and blow. I touch the brakes and the car swerves. There's a semi to my right and to my left? I can't see a thing. The closest I can come to describing this is imagine traveling inside a cotton ball at 80mph, knowing if you touch the brakes you're a goner. Ever so carefully I drop in behind the semi. Duelies with horse trailers wizz by. If I get more than a car's length behind the truck I can't even see his flashers. "GQ. Cool as the other side of the pillow." keeps running through my head.
Somehow I made it out of the cloud in one piece. All I saw of the Rockies was the that truck's blessed bumper. If he had gone off the rock I would have obediently followed. Just above Cheyenne the road iced up again and one of those trucks and horse trailers didn't make it. The truck had flipped and the trailer was on top of the truck. There's already a dozen cars stopped, so I go by. Today was uneventful (thankfully) and I should hit Chicago just in time for St. Paddy's day. The ides are behind us. Clear road ahead.
I had to wait for 80 east to open the other side of Salt Lake, so I got a late start. It was closed due to snow slides. Once I got through the pass the road dried up and except for some flurrys it was an easy run into Wyoming. The radio is bleak in America. A steady diet of classic rock and Christian format has beaten down even the most stalwart hipster wannabe. If ipods didn't exist the youth would think Bauchman Turner Overdrive was still playing sold out arenas and Jesus was selling tickets. I flip it off and travel in silence.
About 100 miles west of Cheyenne the road turns suddenly slick and in an instant I'm in a cloud traveling 80mph down a mountain. Then it starts to snow and blow. I touch the brakes and the car swerves. There's a semi to my right and to my left? I can't see a thing. The closest I can come to describing this is imagine traveling inside a cotton ball at 80mph, knowing if you touch the brakes you're a goner. Ever so carefully I drop in behind the semi. Duelies with horse trailers wizz by. If I get more than a car's length behind the truck I can't even see his flashers. "GQ. Cool as the other side of the pillow." keeps running through my head.
Somehow I made it out of the cloud in one piece. All I saw of the Rockies was the that truck's blessed bumper. If he had gone off the rock I would have obediently followed. Just above Cheyenne the road iced up again and one of those trucks and horse trailers didn't make it. The truck had flipped and the trailer was on top of the truck. There's already a dozen cars stopped, so I go by. Today was uneventful (thankfully) and I should hit Chicago just in time for St. Paddy's day. The ides are behind us. Clear road ahead.
posted by mike osterhout at 6:44 PM
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