Very Corny

I usually take the highways for granted, driving to and from Telluride and from Los Angeles to here, and I don't give the food in the grocery stores a second thought either.

But the highways were carved out of the mountains 130 years ago and gradually paved and improved.  The food in the stores has to be grown and then driven over the roads.

Yesterday I encountered this scene on Hwy. 145 at milepost 66, near where you can stop and look at Wilson Peak and Sunshine Mountain.

The 18-wheeler was carrying 23,000 lbs. of Olathe sweet corn.  The driver survived.

The highway was closed from Sunday afternoon through Monday while two wreckers were being used to haul up the truck.  

Traffic was detoured through Ames and Illium, a mostly dirt road with nice cliffs.  The first mile or two are challenging, especially in pouring rain with yellow rivulets of mud running down the road.

Caution: one lane road the sign says--but five cars were coming at me uphill as I started down.  I moved to the inside half of that lane, dodging small piles of rock that had slid off in the rain, while the other cars took the outside.  

Where was that corn going?  Olathe is between Montrose and Grand Junction, and I suppose most of the corn goes north to I-70 to get to markets, but going south over Hwys. 50, 62, and 145 is harder for big rigs.

Here's to the drivers who carry our food!  And may they all slow down for the sharp curves in the road.

Monsoon Driving

After putting John on the train, I faced a scary drive north from Gallup NM on Hwy. 471.

Ahead I could see very black clouds with quite a light show on both sides of the highway.  Then I drove into them and had heavy rain until Shiprock.  

After I entered, for about 20 minutes the rain was blowing sideways, no visibility, constant flashing of lightning on each side of road.  I could not see stripes on the road or judge how much water was on the road, but on hills it was running down the road and maybe an inch or two standing I guess on lower parts.  Much up and down.  

Good factor was that this was divided highway and no traffic.  I could crawl along at 5 mph and not worry about getting hit.  Only two cars passed me during an hour and a half; when they approached, I put on flashers.  

I debated whether to pull over and wait it out or whether to try to drive out of the storm.  If the cell was stalled, the wait could be long.

I slowed to 10 and 5 mph, following the car ahead of me to see where road was.  When it pulled over, so did I.  

I couldn't pull over sooner because it was hard to judge where I was (low spot or top of hill--the latter not good b/c of lightning) and how much shoulder was available.  When the other car started up again, so did I, feeling safer with someone to follow. 

Toward Shiprock the storm let up, and I stopped for a taco and bathroom break for me and the two dogs.  

I was listening to KTNN, The Navajo Nation, all the way, and as we entered Shiprock, Buck Owens was singing "You wouldn't judge me if you'd walked the streets of Bakersfield."

No rain then until Rico, and no deer or elk the whole way up Hwy. 145 to Trout Lake, but just before Cayton Campground some sort of large cat crossed the road in front of me.  All I could see was its bright eye and the shadow of its body.  The motion of the legs and body was very fluid, like a cat.  

I've seen a bear cross this highway, galumphing like a rabbit with the hind two feet ahead of the front two at one point.  This animal was bigger than a coyote, which crossed Hwy. 145 ahead of me a few days ago, its legs moving fast while the body was just carried along without the shoulders moving.  

Driving on ice is scarier, but for above 40 degrees weather conditions, this was the worst I've faced. 

Hallelujah!  I made it home.