If you live in the Heartland of America, then there's a good chance that you're experiencing snow and ice right now. As an Illinoisan, snow and ice are just a part of our everyday lives during the wintertime. Last winter was rather dry, and we only had a small dusting the entire season. This year, however, Mother Nature has decided to make up what she had missed.
This past Thursday was a balmy 61 degrees when I walked into work. Eight hours later, the temperature had dropped to 41, and by the time I made it home at around 10:30 PM, it had dropped an additional ten degrees. By 11:00 PM, it was sleeting. The sleet continued until early Friday morning and eventually turned to snow.
Personally, I LOVE snow! Fall and winter are my favorite times of the year, and snow is one of the few things in life that hasn't lost its magic as I've aged. I love sledding and snowboarding (even though I recently bruised my tailbone by pretending I'm still 17 and agile, not 27 and apparently frail.) And I enjoy NOTHING more than watching the snowfall as I cuddle up with a cup of hot coffee, a blankie, and a great book.
I can't stand the ice. I survived the 2009 Ice Storm that left us stranded at home with no power, no hot water, and trapped in our home for days while I suffered the worst flu I'd ever had.
I also lived through the next few Great Ice Storms that followed over the next few years. Each of them have been highly unpleasant and inconvenient.
Keeping warm is impossible, even inside sometimes. The cold during an ice storm always seems to permeate your bones. The wind cuts at your face, leaving burned cheeks and chapped lips. Driving is dangerous, but almost always necessary if you're going to get to work or if you happen to run out of groceries during the aftermath of the winter storms here. Everyone knows how to drive in this weather, but people seem to lose their capacity for common sense at times. It's very easy to do. School is out, obviously. Kids with runny noses are playing in chest high drifts of snow, digging their tunnels and trying to mold the driest snow into balls to hurl at each other. We moms and dads attempt to join in the fun, all the while wondering why the cold never felt so horrible when we were kids.
All of these things combined can make the icy days awful, for sure. But what tops the cupcake is when one, ultimately, ends up with car trouble at the worst possible time.
I have always considered myself to be a very cautious driver. But, in times like these my anxiety becomes even worse. For the last four days, I've been on edge while behind the wheel, mainly because people tend to drive faster when they feel more comfortable-- like when the snow and ice melt off a bit for a day, before the roads become covered again.
I drive a 2013 Malibu. I absolutely love my vehicle, but because of the terrain where I live, it's impractical during winter weather events. My husband, however, drives a huge GMC Sierra. It's a great truck! It's sturdy and tall, it has wide tires, and light bars mounted to the front. It's not the biggest truck I've ever seen, but compared to my Malibu, it's a beast. AND it has four-wheel drive, a priceless feature in times such as these.
The only issue that I have with driving Josh's truck, though, it that it always needs some kind of work done on it. This year alone, the battery, the rear end, the tie rods, and hubs have all needed replaced. It has an oil leak, and one of the doors doesn't close tightly enough, so it's always whistling. It's a great truck, but it's a farm truck. It's caked with mud (and currently road salt) constantly. But it's stable.
I've been driving this truck for four days now, feeling very safe in my big rig. But also, on my drives to and from work every day, I've prayed. I've prayed relentlessly, asking for "wisdom, patience, and safety" for myself and every other driver on the road. I pray a lot anyway, but it's the one thing that's helped calm my nerves from exploding into a full-blown panic attack every time I have to set a tire onto the pavement of the interstate for the last few days.
Last night, I was leaving work as normal. I went out and warmed up the truck while I waited for my relief, and all seemed just fine. When I came back outside about twenty minutes later, the truck was toasty warm and ready to go. I put on my seat belt, adjusted my mirrors, and got my Lore podcast started playing through the radio so I could listen as I drove. It had snowed all day, and my tire tracks from arriving earlier that day had all but disappeared. I backed out of the city parking lot, and turned on to the road. The plows had been through and, so far, the drive wasn't too terrible.
And then the battery light blinked on.
This had happened before. Josh had told me it was just a loose wire, and that he'd be looking into it when he had a chance. Last time, I turned down the heat and drove a little faster, and the battery gauge popped back to where it was supposed to stay and all was well. So, I turned down the heat and kept driving like normal.
As I approached the interstate, I noticed that my headlights were flickering a tad. Josh has those wonky blue lights that everyone hates to meet, and they have to have time to "warm up" when you change from brights to dims. They'd seemed dark before while they were working fine, so I kept on going, just wanting to be home after a long night at work.
I hopped on the interstate. It was roughly three miles from where I was to the bridge that crosses over from Kentucky to Illinois. I pressed the truck as fast as I felt comfortable with the ice, snow and slush (about 35 mph) and made my way toward the bridge and home.
And that's when things got bad. Quickly.
There is one other exit between the one I got on and the bridge. The moment I passed it, my headlights dimmed suddenly. I tried to swallow the panic that was quickly rising in me and I flipped my brights on. The brights, though, were darker than my dims. I flipped back over to my dims and slowed down further, fumbling for my phone even though I knew it was dangerous in this weather. This was an emergency though, and my phone wasn't plugged in for Siri to recognize me calling out to her. I called Josh on Bluetooth as I putted down the interstate. I tried to turn on my hazard lights, but they only weakly flickered in and out of existence. My calm demeanor was threatening to melt away, and I struggled to hang onto it.
When Josh answered, I blurted out my situation much more quickly than I had originally planned. So, of course, he probably didn't understand a single word I said. (Yelled?)
I calmed myself to slow down my speech. I explained what was happening all-too-fast for my liking, and he suggested I pick up speed and get myself home ASAP. I glanced down at the battery gauge, and to my horror, it was steadily falling. My lights were disappearing at an alarming rate, and the chances of a semi truck running over me were getting worse and worse with every second. It was late, but the road wasn't empty by any means.
I had three options before me: pull to the emergency lane, attempt the bridge, or roll through the next u-turn area and make my way to a well lit area where I could find help.
I began to choose the emergency lane, but my lack of hazard lights stopped me.
I briefly considered my husband's advice to chance the bridge, but quickly decided against that, as there is no emergency lane and no lights there.
My only option left was to u-turn and go back to the last exit.
I pulled the truck into the u-turn spot once a semi truck roared past me. With my foot on the brake, I tapped the gas just enough to keep the motor running. A few cars passed, and I took my chance. I pulled in front of a snow plow that was a safe distance back, but still afforded me some of the light from its headlights. I pushed the truck, prayers streaming out of my mouth, and my heart pounding. I was shaking from a mixture of the cold that was creeping into the truck and unrelenting adrenaline.
As I passed under the next safety light, the headlights blinked out completely, leaving me to drive in total darkness. On the interstate. In ice and snow.
My gauges were the next to go out as I puttered my way toward the off ramp. Cars that had passed the snow plow were quickly gaining on me as I passed under the next safety light. Thankfully, they saw and passed me. At this point, the next light was at the exit ramp, and the deep rumble of the truck was beginning to go quiet.
As I coasted onto the off ramp, the truck was nearly silent. I pressed the brakes, begging the truck to actually stop at the bottom. The brakes were getting harder and harder to press, and the steering wheel was getting harder to turn. There was a red light at the bottom of the ramp, and cars passing by on their green, so I had no choice but to pull off the road and come to a complete stop.
I didn't quite make it off the road, though, before the truck rolled to a stop and died there on the off ramp.
My hands were shaking, but I was parked right under a bright light. I had done it! I was within easy walking distance of a gas station, warmth, and safety. I tried a few times to start the truck again, but it was all over. It was dead, and going nowhere fast. I pulled the key out of the ignition and opened my door a crack, just as a truck pulled up to my side.
The white truck that pulled up next to me stopped. There was a middle aged man with a gray hoodie and yellow beanie behind the wheel. He leaned across the passenger seat and cranked his window down. I took that small opportunity to ask for help.
"Do you think you could help me?" I asked, my heart still pounding uncomfortably.
"Let me pull ahead of you, and I'll see what I can do," he replied. "Do you just need a jump?"
"Actually, it's completely dead. I don't think it's the battery though, it was replaced this year." I'd seen this before with our old Camry. And my hurried call to Josh confirmed my fear. The alternator had gone out while I was driving. Jumping the truck wouldn't do much good. I explained this to the kind man, and he nodded in agreement.
"I'll tow you then," he said as he jumped into the bed of his truck and grabbed a tow rope from the tool box in the back.
My teeth chattered uncomfortably as I shuffled to the front of the truck. A line of semis and cars were stating to back up on the ramp behind me. I shoved my hands into my pockets. "Is there anything I can help you do?"
"No, I've got this," he smiled. "Get back in the truck and warm up. Turn on the key, and get it into neutral, then keep your foot ready on the brake so you don't bump into me while I pull you, okay?"
I nodded and did what he said. I didn't even know his name, but this kind man was doing everything in his power to help me.
After a few minutes of pulling, we managed to get down the road and around into the parking lot of the Pilot. I thanked him profusely, and asked if there was anything I could do to repay him.
He shook his head and smiled, "You just get inside and get warm."
I thanked him again and he drove away. I walked into the gas station and called Josh right away. We were both relieved that I was not only safely off the interstate, but also somewhere I could keep out of the harsh weather. I suddenly realized that my toes were numb, and didn't know how long they'd been that way. Everything seemed to happen so quickly.
As I sat down in the attached Subway's empty dining area, I realized something. I had been praying relentlessly for four days for three things: wisdom, patience, and safety. And those things had been provided to me that night.
I was given the wisdom to make the choice to turn around, instead of trying to cross the bridge or stop on the side of the road.
I was given the patience to make the terrifying drive in the dark and not loose my cool, even though I was very close to panicking.
And I was given immediate safety, by the way of a stranger to jumped to assist me with no hesitation whatsoever.
Today, I am left feeling extremely blessed and thankful. My father-in-law was able to pick me up and get me home, and we were able to replace the alternator this morning. The truck is now safe to drive again and having no more issues. Everything last night could have been so much worse, but by the Grace, I was kept safe.
I'll leave you all with this: no matter where you are right now, I wish you wisdom, patience, and safety everywhere you go. Be safe, and...
Always Keep Adventuring
Rachel♥♥
This past Thursday was a balmy 61 degrees when I walked into work. Eight hours later, the temperature had dropped to 41, and by the time I made it home at around 10:30 PM, it had dropped an additional ten degrees. By 11:00 PM, it was sleeting. The sleet continued until early Friday morning and eventually turned to snow.
Personally, I LOVE snow! Fall and winter are my favorite times of the year, and snow is one of the few things in life that hasn't lost its magic as I've aged. I love sledding and snowboarding (even though I recently bruised my tailbone by pretending I'm still 17 and agile, not 27 and apparently frail.) And I enjoy NOTHING more than watching the snowfall as I cuddle up with a cup of hot coffee, a blankie, and a great book.
BUT...
(and there's always a 'but...')
I can't stand the ice. I survived the 2009 Ice Storm that left us stranded at home with no power, no hot water, and trapped in our home for days while I suffered the worst flu I'd ever had.
I also lived through the next few Great Ice Storms that followed over the next few years. Each of them have been highly unpleasant and inconvenient.
Keeping warm is impossible, even inside sometimes. The cold during an ice storm always seems to permeate your bones. The wind cuts at your face, leaving burned cheeks and chapped lips. Driving is dangerous, but almost always necessary if you're going to get to work or if you happen to run out of groceries during the aftermath of the winter storms here. Everyone knows how to drive in this weather, but people seem to lose their capacity for common sense at times. It's very easy to do. School is out, obviously. Kids with runny noses are playing in chest high drifts of snow, digging their tunnels and trying to mold the driest snow into balls to hurl at each other. We moms and dads attempt to join in the fun, all the while wondering why the cold never felt so horrible when we were kids.
All of these things combined can make the icy days awful, for sure. But what tops the cupcake is when one, ultimately, ends up with car trouble at the worst possible time.
And, now....
T STORY TIME T
I drive a 2013 Malibu. I absolutely love my vehicle, but because of the terrain where I live, it's impractical during winter weather events. My husband, however, drives a huge GMC Sierra. It's a great truck! It's sturdy and tall, it has wide tires, and light bars mounted to the front. It's not the biggest truck I've ever seen, but compared to my Malibu, it's a beast. AND it has four-wheel drive, a priceless feature in times such as these.
The only issue that I have with driving Josh's truck, though, it that it always needs some kind of work done on it. This year alone, the battery, the rear end, the tie rods, and hubs have all needed replaced. It has an oil leak, and one of the doors doesn't close tightly enough, so it's always whistling. It's a great truck, but it's a farm truck. It's caked with mud (and currently road salt) constantly. But it's stable.
I've been driving this truck for four days now, feeling very safe in my big rig. But also, on my drives to and from work every day, I've prayed. I've prayed relentlessly, asking for "wisdom, patience, and safety" for myself and every other driver on the road. I pray a lot anyway, but it's the one thing that's helped calm my nerves from exploding into a full-blown panic attack every time I have to set a tire onto the pavement of the interstate for the last few days.
Last night, I was leaving work as normal. I went out and warmed up the truck while I waited for my relief, and all seemed just fine. When I came back outside about twenty minutes later, the truck was toasty warm and ready to go. I put on my seat belt, adjusted my mirrors, and got my Lore podcast started playing through the radio so I could listen as I drove. It had snowed all day, and my tire tracks from arriving earlier that day had all but disappeared. I backed out of the city parking lot, and turned on to the road. The plows had been through and, so far, the drive wasn't too terrible.
And then the battery light blinked on.
This had happened before. Josh had told me it was just a loose wire, and that he'd be looking into it when he had a chance. Last time, I turned down the heat and drove a little faster, and the battery gauge popped back to where it was supposed to stay and all was well. So, I turned down the heat and kept driving like normal.
As I approached the interstate, I noticed that my headlights were flickering a tad. Josh has those wonky blue lights that everyone hates to meet, and they have to have time to "warm up" when you change from brights to dims. They'd seemed dark before while they were working fine, so I kept on going, just wanting to be home after a long night at work.
I hopped on the interstate. It was roughly three miles from where I was to the bridge that crosses over from Kentucky to Illinois. I pressed the truck as fast as I felt comfortable with the ice, snow and slush (about 35 mph) and made my way toward the bridge and home.
And that's when things got bad. Quickly.
There is one other exit between the one I got on and the bridge. The moment I passed it, my headlights dimmed suddenly. I tried to swallow the panic that was quickly rising in me and I flipped my brights on. The brights, though, were darker than my dims. I flipped back over to my dims and slowed down further, fumbling for my phone even though I knew it was dangerous in this weather. This was an emergency though, and my phone wasn't plugged in for Siri to recognize me calling out to her. I called Josh on Bluetooth as I putted down the interstate. I tried to turn on my hazard lights, but they only weakly flickered in and out of existence. My calm demeanor was threatening to melt away, and I struggled to hang onto it.
When Josh answered, I blurted out my situation much more quickly than I had originally planned. So, of course, he probably didn't understand a single word I said. (Yelled?)
I calmed myself to slow down my speech. I explained what was happening all-too-fast for my liking, and he suggested I pick up speed and get myself home ASAP. I glanced down at the battery gauge, and to my horror, it was steadily falling. My lights were disappearing at an alarming rate, and the chances of a semi truck running over me were getting worse and worse with every second. It was late, but the road wasn't empty by any means.
I had three options before me: pull to the emergency lane, attempt the bridge, or roll through the next u-turn area and make my way to a well lit area where I could find help.
I began to choose the emergency lane, but my lack of hazard lights stopped me.
I briefly considered my husband's advice to chance the bridge, but quickly decided against that, as there is no emergency lane and no lights there.
My only option left was to u-turn and go back to the last exit.
I pulled the truck into the u-turn spot once a semi truck roared past me. With my foot on the brake, I tapped the gas just enough to keep the motor running. A few cars passed, and I took my chance. I pulled in front of a snow plow that was a safe distance back, but still afforded me some of the light from its headlights. I pushed the truck, prayers streaming out of my mouth, and my heart pounding. I was shaking from a mixture of the cold that was creeping into the truck and unrelenting adrenaline.
As I passed under the next safety light, the headlights blinked out completely, leaving me to drive in total darkness. On the interstate. In ice and snow.
My gauges were the next to go out as I puttered my way toward the off ramp. Cars that had passed the snow plow were quickly gaining on me as I passed under the next safety light. Thankfully, they saw and passed me. At this point, the next light was at the exit ramp, and the deep rumble of the truck was beginning to go quiet.
As I coasted onto the off ramp, the truck was nearly silent. I pressed the brakes, begging the truck to actually stop at the bottom. The brakes were getting harder and harder to press, and the steering wheel was getting harder to turn. There was a red light at the bottom of the ramp, and cars passing by on their green, so I had no choice but to pull off the road and come to a complete stop.
I didn't quite make it off the road, though, before the truck rolled to a stop and died there on the off ramp.
My hands were shaking, but I was parked right under a bright light. I had done it! I was within easy walking distance of a gas station, warmth, and safety. I tried a few times to start the truck again, but it was all over. It was dead, and going nowhere fast. I pulled the key out of the ignition and opened my door a crack, just as a truck pulled up to my side.
The white truck that pulled up next to me stopped. There was a middle aged man with a gray hoodie and yellow beanie behind the wheel. He leaned across the passenger seat and cranked his window down. I took that small opportunity to ask for help.
"Do you think you could help me?" I asked, my heart still pounding uncomfortably.
"Let me pull ahead of you, and I'll see what I can do," he replied. "Do you just need a jump?"
"Actually, it's completely dead. I don't think it's the battery though, it was replaced this year." I'd seen this before with our old Camry. And my hurried call to Josh confirmed my fear. The alternator had gone out while I was driving. Jumping the truck wouldn't do much good. I explained this to the kind man, and he nodded in agreement.
"I'll tow you then," he said as he jumped into the bed of his truck and grabbed a tow rope from the tool box in the back.
My teeth chattered uncomfortably as I shuffled to the front of the truck. A line of semis and cars were stating to back up on the ramp behind me. I shoved my hands into my pockets. "Is there anything I can help you do?"
"No, I've got this," he smiled. "Get back in the truck and warm up. Turn on the key, and get it into neutral, then keep your foot ready on the brake so you don't bump into me while I pull you, okay?"
I nodded and did what he said. I didn't even know his name, but this kind man was doing everything in his power to help me.
After a few minutes of pulling, we managed to get down the road and around into the parking lot of the Pilot. I thanked him profusely, and asked if there was anything I could do to repay him.
He shook his head and smiled, "You just get inside and get warm."
I thanked him again and he drove away. I walked into the gas station and called Josh right away. We were both relieved that I was not only safely off the interstate, but also somewhere I could keep out of the harsh weather. I suddenly realized that my toes were numb, and didn't know how long they'd been that way. Everything seemed to happen so quickly.
As I sat down in the attached Subway's empty dining area, I realized something. I had been praying relentlessly for four days for three things: wisdom, patience, and safety. And those things had been provided to me that night.
I was given the wisdom to make the choice to turn around, instead of trying to cross the bridge or stop on the side of the road.
I was given the patience to make the terrifying drive in the dark and not loose my cool, even though I was very close to panicking.
And I was given immediate safety, by the way of a stranger to jumped to assist me with no hesitation whatsoever.
Today, I am left feeling extremely blessed and thankful. My father-in-law was able to pick me up and get me home, and we were able to replace the alternator this morning. The truck is now safe to drive again and having no more issues. Everything last night could have been so much worse, but by the Grace, I was kept safe.
I'll leave you all with this: no matter where you are right now, I wish you wisdom, patience, and safety everywhere you go. Be safe, and...
Always Keep Adventuring
Rachel♥♥
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