BACON BITS: Big Horn snow angels to the rescue

Posted 12/28/10

So, what happened?

I made my annual trek over the Big Horn Mountains to spend the holiday with my family Thursday afternoon.

Assuming the dense fog and partially frozen slush on the west face of the climb were the worst part, I got a little …

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BACON BITS: Big Horn snow angels to the rescue

Posted

Nothing says “happy holidays” like a foggy drive through Shell Canyon and a mild ice incident near Steamboat Rock.

Having read the letter to the editor in last Thursday’s paper from Gwen Beck, I found myself more appreciative of a few snow angels.

So, what happened?

I made my annual trek over the Big Horn Mountains to spend the holiday with my family Thursday afternoon.

Assuming the dense fog and partially frozen slush on the west face of the climb were the worst part, I got a little cocky in my holiday driving. If you know what assumptions do to people, you can guess who the donkey is in this tale.

While making my descent toward Steamboat, the roads were clear of snow and mostly dry. Sweet! I’ll be in Dayton in no time.

“NAY!” said the mountain.

I should know not to mess with this lady — we have had our tiffs before.

Soundtrack to Across the Universe blaring — my tiny Toyota is like a karaoke bar on any trip lasting more that 2 hours (I rarely have passengers — for good reason).

WOW!

I hit the icy mess of sand and gravel in the center of the road, and then I was not going the correct direction any more. I am not cool, calm or collected ever, so while my car is out of control I am fighting an adrenaline-induced blackout. Sliding sideways down the shoulder of the highway, I finally came to a stop.

Pushing my door open, I stepped out to assess the damage. Luckily, there was none.

But I could not even see my front tire, it was so buried.

Within the minute I started scooping snow out from under my car, my first snow angels arrived.

“We have a shovel. Need help?” said the good-natured mom from Sheridan County.

OK, tires almost clear with the help of Good-Natured and her Chuck Taylor-wearing son and husband.

Second passerby in a Jeep, “need a rope?”

“Let me turn around,” said Jeep Guy.

So Chuck Taylor Jr. kept digging out my front tire as Jeep Guy attached a tow rope to my car.

All said and done, it took less than 10 minutes to rescue me from the snowy shoulder in the Big Horns.

A happy holiday followed.

 

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