Black Ice

Kathy had an appointment in Albuquerque on Monday, and I had some business in town as well, so we drove up together.  We knew the weather would deteriorate over the course of the day, but Kathy’s business should have been over by 2pm, and that would have got us to our warm hearth in plenty of time.

Unfortunately Kathy’s appointment time was delayed by four hours, so we didn’t leave till six, at which point the snow was pouring down and a nasty cold wind was blowing.  The highway was coated in black ice.  Traffic on I-25 was moving at about 35 mph, and we had to pull over once to clean ice from the windshield wipers.  Ahead I could see nothing but taillights frozen in place, so I managed to get off the freeway at Rio Bravo.

I remember Rio Bravo from years ago, when there were two lanes westbound, always choked with traffic barely moving along.  In the last few years Rio Bravo has been widened to four lanes westbound, and now there were four lanes choked with traffic and barely moving.  The movement of traffic was downhill, and the road was still coated with ice, so stopping a downward skid was problematical.  I gave the car ahead plenty of room, and hoped to hell the driver behind me was as obliging.  Against the odds I managed to get across the four lanes and into a turn lane for Broadway, which becomes Highway 47 when it crosses I-25 again, on its way through the Isleta Reservation.  From Isleta it would be tedious but entirely possible to work our way home over country roads.

A colossal number of vehicles were completely helpless in these conditions.  Their wheels spun frantically as the wind pushed them off the road.  I saw an entire tractor-trailer rig floating gently off the road with all its drive wheels spinning and its front wheels trying madly to correct.  Most pickup trucks were useless, though some of the larger ones with big tires forged on at far too great a speed.  (And with typical arrogance, I thought.)  They’d be okay unless for some reason they had to brake, in which case they’d become out-of-control juggernauts turning everything in front of them to pulp.  I saw people trying to push a large RV uphill, with predictable results.

There were so many stranded and abandoned cars that it felt like a war.

We were in an all-wheel-drive Subaru with good tires and we were just fine. It helped that the driver had learned to drive on ice in Minnesota.

When we got to the intersection of Broadway and I-25 traffic slowed to nothing.  We had planed to cross the freeway and continue through the Rez, but all we could see ahead were cars frozen in place, their emergency flashers on.  I don’t know whether traffic had been stopped deliberately or whether the cars were just stranded there blocking access, but I saw that traffic on the freeway was moving again and got on I-25.

That turned out to be the right decision.  At points I almost achieved 40mph!  Traffic was very light because everyone was getting off the highway at Broadway, and the all-wheel-drive performed extremely well.

We got home after driving nearly two and a half hours on a journey that normally takes 40 minutes.  I was still vibrating with anxiety and was pretty well useless for the rest of the night, even after I had a can of chicken soup and watched an episode of “The Great British Baking Show,” which is my current comfort viewing.

And oh yes, I voted.  Hope you did, too.