By far my most terrifying I-80 moment came not in winter but in late August a few years ago in the desert badlands east of Evanston.

I was traveling to California with my wife, two kids,  Indian pariah dog and Chinese cat. A sudden deluge unloaded on the treeless moonscape as we descended the Bigelow Bench at about mileage marker 28. The heavy rain turned the highway slick and reduced visibility to almost nothing. Lane markers disappeared in the roiling sea under our tires. The windshield wipers on our minivan struggled against the force of water.  Herds of 18-wheelers and double trailers and triple-trailers hydroplaned wildly into our lane, whipping back and forth like behemoth skaters playing “crack-the-whip.” None of the long-haul trucks appeared to slow down. I was afraid to reduce my speed for fear of being rear-ended. There was no shoulder where I could pull off the road. Despite having all-wheel drive, my car seemed to have no traction and I struggled just to keep the car pointed straight ahead and to maintain speed.

It was probably no more than 20 minutes but it felt like several years. When I reached the outskirts of Evanston, the sun broke through and suddenly it was a beautiful, late-summer day. I pulled into the Flying J truck stop to calm my nerves. My arms ached from gripping the wheel.

“That was really frightening,” I said to one of the arriving truckers.

He looked at me like I was crazy. To him, apparently, it was just another day on I-80.

Click for more Tales of I-80

Rone Tempest was a longtime national and foreign correspondent for the Los Angeles Times. In 2004 he was part of a team of reporters to win the Pulitzer Prize for coverage of the massive wildfires in Southern...

Leave a comment

WyoFile's goal is to provide readers with information and ideas that foster constructive conversations about the issues and opportunities our communities face. One small piece of how we do that is by offering a space below each story for readers to share perspectives, experiences and insights. For this to work, we need your help.

What we're looking for: 

  • Your real name — first and last. 
  • Direct responses to the article. Tell us how your experience relates to the story.
  • The truth. Share factual information that adds context to the reporting.
  • Thoughtful answers to questions raised by the reporting or other commenters.
  • Tips that could advance our reporting on the topic.
  • No more than three comments per story, including replies. 

What we block from our comments section, when we see it:

  • Pseudonyms. WyoFile stands behind everything we publish, and we expect commenters to do the same by using their real name.
  • Comments that are not directly relevant to the article. 
  • Demonstrably false claims, what-about-isms, references to debunked lines of rhetoric, professional political talking points or links to sites trafficking in misinformation.
  • Personal attacks, profanity, discriminatory language or threats.
  • Arguments with other commenters.

Other important things to know: 

  • Appearing in WyoFile’s comments section is a privilege, not a right or entitlement. 
  • We’re a small team and our first priority is reporting. Depending on what’s going on, comments may be moderated 24 to 48 hours from when they’re submitted — or even later. If you comment in the evening or on the weekend, please be patient. We’ll get to it when we’re back in the office.
  • We’re not interested in managing squeaky wheels, and even if we wanted to, we don't have time to address every single commenter’s grievance. 
  • Try as we might, we will make mistakes. We’ll fail to catch aliases, mistakenly allow folks to exceed the comment limit and occasionally miss false statements. If that’s going to upset you, it’s probably best to just stick with our journalism and avoid the comments section.
  • We don’t mediate disputes between commenters. If you have concerns about another commenter, please don’t bring them to us.

The bottom line:

If you repeatedly push the boundaries, make unreasonable demands, get caught lying or generally cause trouble, we will stop approving your comments — maybe forever. Such moderation decisions are not negotiable or subject to explanation. If civil and constructive conversation is not your goal, then our comments section is not for you. 

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *