I know better. But sheer hubris made me do it.
Shelley and I took off from home today about 11 a.m., and headed toward Omaha, Neb., a long awaited trip that was part of her Christmas present.
On Sunday, her absolute favorite college basketball team, Marquette, will be playing Creighton University at their home arena, CHI Health Center. And evidently, this venue is one of the absolute most entertaining college basketball arenas in the country. And so to say that my college basketball-obsessed wife was a tad excited would be an understatement. She's been talking about this trip for months.
This morning, the day had finally arrived to leave for Omaha, and of course, we got hit with a blizzard. Our seventh blizzard of the winter, and already long, cold and stormy one by any measure. And so from the time we got up this morning, Shel was in a funk. She saw her dream trip that she'd spent months planning was slipping away from her, or at least that's what the dastardly evil voice in the back of her head was telling her.
It was a hard morning, and so knowing how important this trip was to her, I made the decision we were going to try getting south of the storm. Looking at the radar, I rationalized that if I could just get an hour south of home, we'd be able to outrun the storm. I even called a parishioner of mine who lives 25 miles south of town and asked them for a road report. And what I heard was enough to give me confidence in heading out. There's traffic on the highway, and we can see town from here, a mile south of town.
That settled it; we head out.
I knew better, of course. I've lived in northern Minnesota all my life, and I know that you don't leave town during a blizzard, even if it's a small one. But I just couldn't fathom letting Shelley down. And my husband's hubris took over. ... I was going to get my girl to her dream game. ... Now mind you, we could have just as easily waited the night, and took off Saturday morning. We'd have only lost a few of our sightseeing items, but the drive would have been safe.
No dice. I was determined. ... So, we set out.
And for the first half hour things were fine. Sure, there were some powerful wind gusts, as high as 60 mph, I learned later. But, all in all, the roads were clear and there was always fair to good visibility for a mile or more. We both started to relax a little, and we started to crack jokes and sing along to the radio. The tension had been let out. I was getting Shel to her game, and she was happy.
Then it happened. ... Not far south of Breckinridge, Minn., we ran into a patch of total whiteout conditions. And if you've never lived this far north, and haven't been riding in a car during a total whiteout, it's hard to describe the terror that can set in.
Instantly, a switch was flipped, and the road conditions went from moderate to life-threatening. At best, I could see 5 feet in front of the truck; at worst, I couldn't even make out where on the road I was.
I give credit to Shel. She held her cool, and I told her, "Ok, I need you help. You're going to watch the rumble strip on the side of the road. And I'm going to watch the yellow center line, and we're going to make our way through this. She steeled herself, and we set forward.
In a whiteout, you essentially have two options. First, you can try to find a safe place to pull off the road, turn on your car flashers and hope no one else plows into you. Second, you can do your best to muddle your way through. ... I chose to muddle our way through.
This is where I started to silently pray, apologizing for my arrogance, and asking God to deliver us through. ... And to be fair, it was more of a subconscious prayer than anything. Because I was working hard to keep my own fear in check.
We kept driving. ... Shelley with an eye on the side of the road, and me trying to focus on the yellow center line. But the visibility was so bad, that I had to roll down my driver's side window to be able to essentially look straight down at the road to see the line. ... We were going 5 mph.
At one point, I saw a semi-truck coming at us from the opposite direction, and it was hugging the highway center line far closer than I would have liked for our sake. But we squeezed by each other, and we continued on.
All told, the whiteout lasted probably about 20 to 25 minutes. But when we were living through it, it felt like hours. If you've ever been in a similar situation, you can relate.
Some 12 hours later, safely tucked into our hotel room, I am grateful that God pulled us through. I'm also embarrassed that we ever left home. We should have stayed the night and came down in the morning. But it was my arrogance that got in the way. My believe that no matter what, I could conquer whatever Mother Nature was going to throw at us. It was stupid, and I am ashamed that I put Shelley at risk with my decision.
I guess that's why it's comforting tonight to know that God can intercede and secure us from even our dumbest decisions. I should never have taken off from home today. There was no reason for it, other than my need to please my wife. And I am grateful to the Almighty for rescuing us from my stupidity.
That is why tonight I am finding faith in just following the dotted yellow center line, knowing that God was keeping just enough of it visible for me to keep us on the road and keep us alive. Thank you, God, for sending your Holy Spirit to guide us today. ... I vow to continue working on making more mature decisions.
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