Slip Sliding Away

It all began very early on the morning of March 15 when I got a phone call from my nineteen- year-old daughter. Kim needed her mom. Desperately needed me. Hysterically needed me. She was being admitted to the hospital. She was 700 miles away. And she was nine months pregnant! 

Let me back up here. A few months before this call, Kim and her young husband made the foolish decision to move from St. Louis, Missouri to Anderson, South Carolina. I might have gotten a little hysterical myself, but Kim was perfectly calm about the fact that she was three months away from childbirth. She blithely assured me she would be fine. They packed up their old car and off they went. 

And she was fine. We talked on the phone every day. She was still quite unconcerned. Until the labor pains started, that is. That’s when my phone rang at 6 am and my foggy brain was assaulted with the screams of a scared-to-death, sobbing teenager.  

“Please, Mom, please! Can you come and be with me? What if I die? Ooooh, Mom, it hurts SO bad! Please, Mom!” 

All right, you guessed it. I’m a pushover. And a softy. I hastily made arrangements to take my eight-year-old out of school for a few days, called my employer, then let my good-natured hubby know what I was planning to do. Yes, in that sequence. Then it hit me. I was about to jump in my car and drive 700 miles with an eight-year-old boy as my only companion. The longest trip I had ever made alone was maybe a hundred miles. Yikes, what was I thinking? Oh, yeah, I almost left out the fact that I couldn’t leave home until at least 1:00 pm. Which would put me at my destination at midnight or after. Now I was getting scared! 

Then I had an inspiration! I would get Patty to go with me. Patty is Kim’s closest friend and really nice kid. So, I called and asked her if she wanted to go along. Turns out she was excited and eager to accompany me on such an exciting journey, although she did warn me that she had no money. 

“No worries!” I said. “We will get fast food a couple times. It’ll be just fine.” 

1:17 pm found the three of us turning onto the interstate, heading toward Nashville, the Great Smoky Mountains and points beyond. All was well. We sailed along in our big comfortable sedan and talked about whatever came to mind. Just north of Nashville, I asked my traveling companions if they were getting hungry and of course the answer was a resounding “YES!” But we couldn’t decide on which fast food joint to choose. On the outskirts of town, we came to a sign advertising one of those country-cooking restaurants. You know, the ones with the rocking chairs on the front porch. So, I made an impulsive and hungry decision and took the off-ramp. 

It was good food. But it did make a dent in my budget and an even bigger dent in our traveling schedule. Being of a carefree nature, I mentally shrugged my shoulders and continued our journey. 

All was well until we made a stop for fuel. That is where I heard a truck driver telling someone that the Smoky Mountain area was getting hit with snow and ice. Suddenly I didn’t feel so carefree. I absolutely hate driving in bad weather. In fact, I DON’T drive in bad weather. From November until March, I mostly leave the driving to calm folks. I was in a near-panic when we got back on I-40 but as we drove along, the roads seemed fine. There was no precipitation at all. I heaved a big sigh of relief and drove for two uneventful hours. “Maybe I misunderstood the trucker.” I thought to myself. “He must have meant a different highway.” 

There we were, tooling along, when of course my little guy had to go potty. Fortunately, a rest area was coming up. As I approached, I noticed an unusual number of big trucks parked there. I had to search for a parking space in the section for cars and there were a lot of people in the restroom/snack area. The temperature was also markedly colder. The significance of all this escaped me because while there, I got the news that my grandson had been born. Now I really wanted to get to South Carolina! 

Everybody did their business and we got back in the car. When I pulled back onto the interstate, I noticed that there was very little traffic. Patty and I discussed it and thought perhaps the truckers were all stopped for the night since it was fully dark by then. And we continued sailing along at 70 mph. 

Until I hit the first patch of ice. That’s when the back end of my nice smooth-riding sedan fish-tailed and I started praying! Fervently praying! Heart-in-my-mouth, terror-filled praying! In the back seat, Robbie remarked, “Wow, that was cool, Mommy; do it again!” 

The car righted itself, no doubt a result of our anguished prayers. Of course, I immediately slowed down. The farther we went, the more snow and ice we saw built up on the highway. There was not a car in sight in either direction, either. I was not familiar with the area, but it was apparent that we were in the foothills of the Smokies. The highway’s incline was gradually getting steeper. I promised Patty I would pull off at the first available exit that had some type of business.  

We experienced a couple more incidents of almost losing control of the car in the next half hour. Patty wasn’t doing too well...extremely frightened and holding on for dear life. When we ran over a big buildup of ice and veered across the highway, she begged me to PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP. Almost immediately I saw a sign for an upcoming exit with a service station and a hotel. I guess I was still going too fast because the car slid around as we tried to navigate the exit ramp. More screams from my young friend and more giggles from the back seat.  

Finally, we were off the icy highway. I turned the car into the first opening I saw. It was a closed service station. Cars were parked helter-skelter in every available inch of the lot. It felt so good to be safe; we just sat there and relaxed for the next half hour. However, the human anatomy being what it is, we all needed a bathroom. The station was closed. We decided to let Robbie go pee on the ground but there was no way either of us gals could do that, right?

Things were beginning to get urgent in the urination department, so I suggested we drive across the road and see if we could use the bathroom at the hotel. I noticed a space where I could fit my car and off we went.   

The scene inside that hotel was absolutely surreal. There were people sitting, standing and lying everywhere! There was a wide staircase leading to the second floor and people were lying on every available inch. The receptionist pointed the way to the restroom without us even asking. It wasn’t in very good condition, but, hey, when nature calls.... When we came out of the restroom, she told us there were no vacancies but they had a few pillows and blankets left that we could rent for $50 per set. (Hence the staircase sleepers) We gracefully declined the offer (since we didn’t have a spare $150 for such luxury) and went back to the car. 

While inside we had learned that the highway was shut down due to a jackknifed truck in a tunnel about 50 miles ahead. It was an estimated ten hour wait for the highway to reopen.   

“Looks like we’re spending the night in the car, kiddos.” A long cold night it was, too. Patty climbed in the back seat. She had brought a pillow along on the trip, so she was able to sleep sitting up and leaning against the window. My little guy got comfortable back there, too. But sleep was hard to come by in the front seat with no pillow or blanket and wiih it being twenty-seven degrees outside. I would doze off for a few minutes, then wake up because I was cold. I turned the car on and off all night, leaving it running just long enough to keep us from freezing.  Fear of asphixiation is a powerful deterrent to sleeping in a running car!

Around 6 am I was awakened by the noise of diesel engines starting and people talking. After a quick trip to the smelly hotel restroom, I learned that the highway was open. Traffic was barely crawling, but I figured a little progress was better than none at all. (Ms Einstein didn’t even consider the impact on the gas gauge) We were all on the brink of starvation, so after an hour of stop and go traffic, we stopped for a $25 breakfast. Then there was another potty break at a rest area that had not been approached since the snowfall. The way the snow sprayed out from my car as we entered the rest area, I thought we were going to get stuck, for sure! 

 It took two and a half hours to travel sixty miles, but we were finally out of the mountains and on dry, clear road. Two more hours! And, thankfully, we made it without incident! Got to cuddle and love on my newborn grandson. I definitely think he was worth the trip! 

Now to get back home on $20.