The truck’s rear wheels slipped, floated right off the pavement, took on a life of their own. In an instant, we were headed towards the right shoulder, still on cruise control, forward progress dramatically askew. Steve corrected, the truck veered left, whiteness loomed past the windshield. I heard, “Omigod, omigod, omigod,” and then the world turned on its head.
Tag: Tales of I-80
Posted inFeatured, Places
Tales of I-80: Call for Entries
Posted inPlaces