Icy Roads

  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.

Van tapped the brake to slow us down.

The trailer started passing us.

So he sped up to get the trailer back in line — because nothing says “safety” like accelerating toward a train.

The cross arms raised just as we slid across the tracks, sideways, in the middle of the road.

Years later, in Oregon, on a mountain pass — two‑lane road, branches coated in ice — I said, “You might think about slowing down. It looks icy.”

Van said, “What makes you think it’s icy? What makes you the icy‑road expert?”

Then to prove his point, he stomped the brake.

And just like that, I was getting a very familiar view of our own taillights. The trailer was passing us… again.

Van had always told me not to worry — that 80,000 pounds of weight would help with traction on icy roads.

The only problem on this trip down the icy mountain?

We had a full load from end to end, top to bottom in the trailer…

Styrofoam peanuts--All seven thousand pounds of them.