A date with a pretzel.

It was snowing Fri. morning when I got on the road. The best explanation of the driving conditions was cream of wheat on a waxed floor, a white knuckle drive. From Nebraska City south to St. Joseph, Missouri, I drove twelve miles an hour, thirty at most. Cars and trucks littered the ditches and median. We drove around and through previous accidents.

Our southbound right lane had a track, the left did not. A tanker and two eighteen-wheelers passed on my left moving a bit too fast, I thought. A while later a lit sign at the side of the road stated “Exit 50 is closed. Find alternate route.” As in over the river and through the woods?

Exit fifty was not blocked by the time we got there. The two cars ahead of me continued. I followed. We came upon flashing lights, several highway patrolmen and a mega-wrecker. The collided vehicles had settled off the road. And guess who they were? Those three fast-moving trucks were pretzeled together. Do you want mustard with that?

2010 Red Convertible Travel Series