A Drive Never Forgotten

I recently held a contest with Outdoor Blogger Network asking for bloggers to post their favorite holiday/winter travel story. The winner recieved a $200 gift card to Cabela’s.

There’s a reason why I held the contest, besides the added branding for Sportsman Channel and my own selfish reasons for getting to know outdoor bloggers.

I, too, have a story to share and it was the inspiration for the contest.

It started a long, long time ago in a land far, far away called Plankinton, South Dakota….

I just returned home from Christmas gift exchange day at school in Plank. The Christmas holiday vacation begins tomorrow and I couldn’t be more excited to be out of school! As I was readying for bed, I could hear the nightly news in my room drone on about winter weather warnings of possible blizzards and freezing conditions. This is par for the course if you live in South Dakota. You see, we have no trees, so blizzard conditions and white-outs are quite frequent.

I was awakened by Dad shortly after falling into dreamland. “Michelle, grab your overnight bag and get ready, we are driving out to see your sister and new niece.”

“Whaaa??” I said groggily.

“We need to leave now, the snow is coming our way – hurry!” he exclaimed as he already had his overnight bad in hand.
A few things to explain, dear readers, was that my sister just had the first-born granddaughter (cue angels singing) and my mom was already out there.

And “out there” was Seattle, Washington.

To review, we lived in the eastern part of South Dakota. Dad wanted to drive to the far western part of Washington. During winter. With snow and a 12-year-old girl who wasn’t even allowed to drive the tractors on the farm.

So I grabbed the closest things I had by me – a box of mints and teddy bear from that day’s gift exchange and a few clothing items.

We left around 11 pm in my brother’s brand new Pontiac Grand Prix coupe. I am sure this is the ideal car for traveling through the Rockies. (My brother had to stay home and milk the cows. They probably looked far more inviting than spending 24-hours in a car with Dad and me.)

Somewhere past the Black Hills and entering the Rockies, my dad couldn’t drive anymore. He was spent and he couldn’t see where the road ended and the ditch began. It must’ve been the early hours of the morning when it was still dark and NO ONE was on the road. If you’ve ever driven I-90, you know how desolate it can be.

“I have to rest a bit, you need to stay up and watch for the plow for me, okay?” he asked.

You see, you didn’t want to actually get off the interstate because they have those arms that block the entrance ramps to get back ON. So you just pulled over on the shoulder and waited for a plow.

“Okay,” I replied and promptly fell asleep.

There’s not much of the trip I remember after that except the treacherous roads in the Rockies and how I ate the entire box of mints with my dad. (I refused to eat mints for a solid 10 years after that.) I was so thankful for entering more populated areas where the street lights shone on the road to help guide where the heck the car should go. (Am I getting across here that we drove in a blizzard?) Looking back, I think I was kind of freaked out.

Twenty-four hours later, we were coming into Seattle. My dad already stopped a few hours ago at a payphone to say we’ll be there in time for dinner, but don’t tell everyone. My mom informed me later they set two more place settings at the table and it just confused everyone why the heck she did that!

I don’t remember arriving, but I remember seeing my sister and mom and how happy they were to see us – and I remember holding my new baby niece, Cassandra.

There will never be another trip like that with my Dad and I wish I remembered more of it. The taste of mints tends to block a lot of my memory.

But it was spontaneous and perhaps it is where I earned my ease of logging long road hours (much to the chagrin of my husband) and where I got my sense of “Why not?”

Because 21 years ago, my dad wanted to see his new grandbaby and said “why not drive out there?”

Happy Birthday, Cassandra!

And Merry Christmas to you all!