“Oh my, the
windshield is icing up,” I said as we entered the tunnel, “I can’t see through
it!” The outside temperature had reached
the point where the ice and mud from passing cars was sticking to my windshield. The windshield wiper fluid had frozen shut. I couldn’t see anything in front of me!
“Well, we
are inside the tunnel; can’t pull over,” Jonathan commented from the passenger seat. “I will turn up the heat on the defroster and
maybe that will warm the windshield so the ice will melt.”
Once inside
the tunnel I couldn't stop. There was no way to turn back and there was no shoulder to turn off
on. Days before our trip, I had watched
YouTube videos of winter-weather highway car pileups, each one caused by a
reckless driver going too fast who didn’t respect the slippery ice and blinding
snow. Now I could only imagine myself
being the head car in a massive pileup inside the Eisenhower Tunnel. I could see my face flashed on the evening
news with the subtitle: Tropical low-lander
causes high altitude chaos!
Behind me I
heard Sara’s window roll down. “Dad, so
far you are OK on this side,” she announced as she watched cars in the left
lane pass us.”
“Dad, you
are getting kinda close to the wall over here,” Jonathan warned.
I was dependent
on their guidance as I navigated the tunnel.
I could barely make out the taillights of the car some distance ahead of
us. Since the tunnel was straight I
thought that as long as the faint red glow stayed in the same place on my frozen,
mud-covered windshield, I should be OK.
But that meant I had to maintain my speed to keep up with the car.
“Dad, you
are starting to swerve into the left lane a bit,” Sara announced.
“Got plenty
of room over here,” Jonathan advised.
I thought
about the thousands of cars that would pass through the tunnel that day, each
one prepared with anti-freeze wiper fluid, snow tires, and a lot of
experience. I also thought I was going
to wreck the car by either scraping it along the wall or running into another car,
a terrible beginning to our vacation, if it had a beginning!
It was the
longest 3 minutes of my life as I blindly sped through the darkened tunnel. I was praying without ceasing. Suddenly the windshield began to brighten. “We are almost through,” Sara observed.
Then we were
out! “Dad, you can pull over now,”
Jonathan advised. “There’s a wide shoulder
here.”
Seconds
later I was breathing again as we waited along the side of I-70. The defroster began heating the windshield
enough to melt the ice as the wipers swished the muddy slosh away. Within minutes we were back on the road with
a clear windshield and a beautiful view of a Colorado winter wonder land.
Is there a
lesson in all of this? Well, of course, be
prepared. But as we continue through 2019,
we will have some dark tunnels to pass through. There will be unexpected events, scary happenings,
and heart-pounding moments. I hope you
have some great people to help you along, as I did. Swallow a big heaping of fool-driven courage
and just keep going. Praying sure
helps. Most of all, always remember, as
you have heard before, there’s light at the end of the tunnel!
Our 2018 Family Picture: Jonathan, Sara, David and Andrea with Christy, Dad, Martha and Philip, Hannah and Daniel
1 comment:
You're gonna have to get that CHIN covered up, if you hang around with THAT group of guys!
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