I used to be a trucker: Part III

I told John I didn’t want to drive home that night. I told him I was too afraid of crashing and didn’t want to drive over that f’ing pass one more time that day and could we please stay at a hotel until morning. He said no. He said the storm was only going to get worse and if we stayed we’d be stuck for a few days. Which sounded pretty damn pleasant to me, I can think of worse places than a posh ski town to be stuck.

We didn’t stay.

Not too many weeks after that incident we were driving through that same area of the state again after having dropped off some equipment in Wyoming. John is one of the most spontaneous people I know, and it’s one thing that I’ve always liked about him. He’s always up for something new. We dropped off the equipment and started to head back to Colorado Springs. But being the intrepid man he is John suggested we stop and see what there was to see in that area. We were about 1/2 hour west of Riverside, WY and driving deep into the wooded mountains. We had a choice: go right and through a part of the area John had been through before but never stopped in, or go left and go through the mountains. Well if you have known me for more than a day you know that I will almost -always- choose the mountain route if given the choice. So we did. We were having a grand ol’ time, laughing and joking the way two friends do. The area was beauuutiful!

And it snowed. And snowed. And snowed. Soon we were halfway up the mountain in a big flatbed truck pulling a trailer to boot. And even sooner after that we were no longer going up anything – we were stuck. Stuck on the side of a snowy pass with nobody in sight (sound familiar?). Only this time there were no quick heroes. John tried as best he could to get the truck going again but it was too heavy and the road was too icy to get traction, so we just got more and more stuck. We gave up after a time and decided to hunker down in the truck while we waited for the plow, which surely was coming soon! We saw one pass us about an hour ago so surely we were due for another plow. Right?!?!

That was at 7pm. 9pm rolled around – no plow. 10pm. 11pm. Midnight, still no plow. I was really getting freaked out and it was flipping COLD up there. Once again we were sorely unprepared (Another note to self: pack food and warm clothes when traveling with John) but I felt better having John at my side. Every once in awhile we’d turn on the truck for heat, just for a few minutes. At one point my stomach totally betrayed me; the adrenaline caught up and I just had to poop, outside, in the snow, and it snowed sideways and little icicles hit my bare, frigid ass. (TMI? Sorry… not really).

1, 2, 3am… NO PLOW. At this point I’d pretty much convinced myself that we were stuck there until Spring, that this was the only pass in the state that wasn’t traveled by ANYBODY in the wintertime and I’d be found frozen in the Springtime by some poor hunter who happened across my body.

Finally at 7am I saw the most beautiful sight of my life: the blinking lights of the snow plow! Mr. Snow Plow pulled us out of the ditch and we continued on our way. Turns out we were on one of the only passes in the state that is only plowed 12 hours a day instead of 24 – lucky me!!!

After that things slowly unraveled until I decided to find greener pastures…. my parents didn’t pay my way through college just to see me truckin behind the wheel of a half-ton. Still, I wouldn’t change it for anything. I had some great times and John and I have patched things up. I still consider him a dear friend and he still cracks me up with his stories which are always so random and hilarious. And I’m happy to say that his company has continued to be a success, no doubt due in part to John’s tenacity.

One of the highlights of being a trucker… I got to drive this one time:

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