Adventures with Geannii

    Most people think 80,000 pounds of steel and rubber can handle anything. They’re wrong. On an Oregon mountain pass in February, physics doesn't care about your cargo—it only cares about who’s in charge. And on this day, it definitely wasn't us. I have a fear of driving — or even riding — on icy roads. I didn’t always feel this way. When I was first married, DH was driving a propane tank. He was bootlegging… me. We crested over a hill — a 20 % grade — and at the bottom was a railroad track. The cross arms were down, lights flashing, warning of a train. The road was solid ice . We were in low gear, but eighty thousand pounds of propane and truck don’t care about low gear. Gravity grabbed us by the ankles and yanked us straight down that hill.

  Clothes were scattered along I-5 for miles. At first, it was just a single shirt lying in the shoulder. Then a pair of jeans. Then a sock — just one, because of course it was. You’ve seen it on television: clothes flying out of an upstairs window when a man is in big trouble. But this wasn’t TV. This was real life, and somebody’s laundry was telling a story. I could picture it perfectly. Huge fight.