A Sunday Drive

We set out from Zion under an overcast sky with heavy snow falling in huge wet flakes.  Snow is not good for RVers, it takes a few years off their lives and adds more grey hairs.

Paul's old Dodge Ram climbed the damp, snaky hillside pulling our rig precariously up the steep incline. The road was shrouded in heavy clouds leading to a mile long mountain tunnel so narrow we were told we needed an escort due to the size of our caravan.

The ranger up top checked us out,  stopped traffic, moved the cone and we were on our own.  No escort, just strict instructions; lights on, straight down the middle, no stopping, get moving.  I knew right then we were goners.  Our RV is 12' 5" or so, plenty of room to pass under the 13'1" entrance.  No problem, right? Eyes tight shut, mine not Paul's, no bumps, no scrapes, only silence, Thank The Lord. As we passed through the darkness we saw occasional peep holes carved out of the tunnel walls shedding glimpses of light on the sheer drop, no landing in sight.   It had all the elements of an Ice Road Trucker episode.

Unfazed by the potential disaster, Paul gunned the engine as we drove out of the darkness, he remarked "No Sweat". That made one of us.


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