The Tortoise and the Hare

I awoke the next morning in Billings, Montana, having driven the rest of the way from the pass after Bozeman on mostly dry roads. I was worried that my chosen truck stop may not have any parking spots available that night, but thankfully, it did.

The storm with its snow and winds had caught up to me at Billings, while I slept. While the snow was coming down hard, it was just warm enough, and the storm hadn't been in the area long enough for the snow to stick to the highway, so I got onto the interstate and headed east. I wasn't sure about black ice, and therefore went slowly, picking my way carefully over the bridges, each having its yellow sign indicating that bridges could be icy. For nearly 80 miles outside of Billings, I could see a vehicle following behind me. As the truck slowed while working its way up hills, the vehicle slowed as well. I was traveling a a slower pace than other traffic on the highway, and they could at any time have easily passed. Perhaps they too were wary of black ice. Finally, as the morning skies made the world more bright, the pickup truck finally sped up and passed.

Finally, once again, Bruce and I outran the storm's fury and we drove out from under the falling precipitation. We pushed on into the vast prairies of eastern Montana and North Dakota. The sky was filled with low, dark clouds but the storm's precipitation stayed behind us. Finally, just at dark, we pulled into Fargo, North Dakota, and once again were grateful to find a parking spot. If not for the fact that I was out of hours, I would have gladly pushed on further towards the destination, but man's laws can sometimes come with as much fury as those of mother nature.

My cell phone had no internet across Montana and most of North Dakota, so I was glad to have internet back again in Fargo. The forecast for western Minnesota, my destination in the morning called for a Blizzard Warning. I decided to take a look at things in the morning and sent a Qualcomm message to headquarters telling them of the situation. They replied to let them know once I was rolling tomorrow how things looked. I awoke at 3:30 am and looked outside. There was just a bit of snow here and there, but the parking lot was wet but not snow covered. I could drive in these conditions, so off we went. From Fargo, we crossed the state line into Minnesota, and shortly after, the snow began to fall, just in flurries here and there, but becoming increasingly strong and accompanied by very strong winds.

Nothing to be alarmed about, I thought. After all, weather forecasters sometimes place Warnings in order to cover all their bases. This is probably one of those times. Stronger the snow and winds came, sometimes their combined fury rocking the truck, even fully loaded, and sending snow onto the highway so quickly that it seemed to cover with snow almost immediately. Up ahead, I could see the flashing lights of an accident. In the westbound lanes, a large semi truck was being towed back up onto the freeway.

Conditions deteriorated quickly, and I came to the realization that conditions warranted me pulling over and putting on chains. But where could I find a place to do that? This is largely unfamiliar territory to me, and I passed a sign just a ways back that said that next Rest Area was 100 miles ahead. Finally, I had an idea that an off-ramp or on-ramp might be the way to go. Eventually, I came to an off-ramp, and at the subsequent on-ramp, I pulled over into the on ramp lane, and quickly to the shoulder of the interstate. I got out, put my winter coat and gloves on, and got to work doing something I had dreaded for the entire trip, chaining up this rig.

I detached the chains –they're actually cables, not chains, and much easier to use in my opinion. I then lugged them around and spread them out in the snow, trying to make sure that I placed them correctly on the tires. I started with the tires away on the side of the truck away from the highway and traffic. I figured my first few tires would take longer till I had a better system and routine to doing this job. Sure enough, progress was slow, but I had all the chains situated on the tires, and then I went around to the side of the truck that was against the traffic. As I worked away, I noticed that my gloves were wet, my shoes had soaked through to my socks, my pants were wet, actually, everything I was wearing was wet and I was cold. Just as I was about ready to get into the truck and pull forward a few feet to roll the tire further into the chains, I saw the headlights and flashing lights of a snow plow pull up beside me. He told me politely that I could not chain here. It was simply too dangerous. He went on to explain that unless I moved, he'd have to call the state patrol, with the unfinished implication that a citation would certainly follow.

I asked if he could recommend a place to do this job, and he said at the top of an on-ramp, or at a truck stop. In fact, he continued, there was coincidentally a truck stop at the next exit, and he'd be glad to plow me a path to that exit. I took all the chains off all the tires, and simply threw them into the cab of the truck and followed him to the next exit where sure enough, there was a small truck stop. The snow plow driver was doing his job, but he did it very professionally, and I will be always grateful.

At the truck stop, I discovered that the parking was nearly full, so I grabbed a spot, that's not really a parking spot, but a place where truckers park when there are no longer any regular parking spaces available. As I sat there, trying to process these recent rather harrowing events, I looked out the windshield into the storm. Winds were so strong that the falling snow was blowing sideways. Snow was falling so fast, my wipers could hardly keep the windshield clean. I looked around at the other trucks and their drivers hunkered down in this little spot beside the interstate, an unglamorous, yet safe harbor. I opened up my smartphone internet to check the weather forecast and road conditions, and try and figure my next step. The National Weather Service had issued a Blizzard Warning for western Minnesota, and travel was dangerous and not advised. That was good enough for me. I sent a Qualcomm that I had parked safely off the road for now due to weather conditions, and logged off.

There I sat, staring out at the storm raging, feeling defeated. After 1200 miles of racing and wrestling with this storm, in the last 130 miles, just a couple hours from an on-time arrival, Argos had caught up to me, and saved his most savage fury for now. The truck rocked back and forth as it was pushed by the wind gusts, and the snow, driving horizontally in front of me seemed to have to end in sight.

I left the truck running to take full advantage of the heater. My pants were dripping, my shoes soaked and socks squished with water. I was cold, miserable, and totally undecided about what to do next. Would I get another message back...stay on your routing? Get those chains back on that truck and get that load delivered?

Finally, I gave in to a sense that I needed to accomplish one thing yet. I went back out into the driving snow, drug the chains from the cab of the truck, and set about putting chains on the truck. If they came back and said I had to continue, regardless of the dangerous conditions, well, at least I'd be fully chained up and ready to go. If they said okay, you can wait out the storm, then, at least I had some practice installing chains in very adverse conditions. For the second time that day, I unrolled, and spread the chains out in front of the tires, and started trying to figure out the process and rhythm to make this a task that's less intimidating. Just as the sky began to grow bright with the dawn, I had my last chain securely around the tire.

Not too long afterwards, I received an urgent message. Do not move! Stay put until you get word from us that it is safe to do so. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I had made the right decision.

After chasing and outrunning Argos on several occasions, in the end, Argo's slow and steady pace caught up with me in western Minnesota. My delivery appointment had to be re-scheduled till Monday. I'll spend the weekend in my truck, being buffeted by Argos' wind gusts, and finding time at last, to catch up on my blog.

Morning in Fargo, ND. The fun is about to begin.

Truck stop at Rothsay, MN, harbor from the storm

Chained up. Nowhere to go.

Argos' aftermath