Pilot Valley. We who live out here love it. It’s quiet, the lights are not obtrusive, and it’s a world away from the entrapments of Wendover. I have lived out here since 1998. During that time we had one winter that brought significant snow. Driving home that day, the road was all but completely obscured. But, the snow was fresh and pure, so given that I know the road it was no problem getting home. It was the worse I had seen, until last night.
We have had some snow this winter and bitter cold temperatures, -22 a couple weeks ago, so the snow remained rather powdery. Driving in to Wendover yesterday morning was no problem. Why would it be any different driving home? How about wind? Wind had blown huge drifts on the road, filling in tire tracks and piling up as though there had been a massive blizzard. Add to that my propensity to think myself invincible, and hence the problem. About ten miles or so from I-80 I found myself stuck in a snow field that was two to three feet deep. Some drifts were pushing four, as I discovered walking a ways from the truck, a 4×4 I had set to granny low by the way. We, wife Tina, granddaughter Tori, and me, were stuck solid.
We called AAA of course. Spoke to a guy in Arizona who gave us the number of Mr. Tow. Called Mr. Tow, and was told he would be out to save the day, night actually. Shortly thereafter he called me back saying that he had spent a good deal of time digging out his truck at the first turn on Pilot Road. He would not be able to make it. He called 911 for us, and we did the same. A deputy sheriff, with a more appropriate vehicle than mine apparently, showed up and pulled us out to where I could turn around and get the heck out of there.
I am cleaning this up for a family newspaper, but, trust me, Carlin’s seven dirty words were not near enough for the occasion. We drove out, and went around the long way past Oasis. It was tough but doable.
I learned a few things about myself, Pilot Valley, and the nature of snow. Me: simply because I can imagine it, does not mean I can do it. Pilot Valley: while quite beautiful, is not at all forgiving under adverse circumstances. (I do thank the nonexistent deity for cell phones.) And snow! It does not seem to care if its eternal destination or sexual proclivities are called into question. Nor does it respond to anatomically impossible suggestions.
Bottom line, I will, when I encounter conditions like this, turn my tail around and secure a room in a cozy Wendover hotel.
Michael Pust
Older, wiser, but still kickin’