Mile 57, Snow, Washington State.
Going to Uncle Stevie’s birthday party. Backseat of Mom & Dad’s car.
I do not do this trip in the winter very often anymore, but when I was a kid we would drive to Spokane every year for Thanksgiving. Now that I am older I understand how hellish this annual drive must have been for my father. My mother does not drive.
We would leave after school on Wednesday. That means that we usually did not pull out of Seattle until 4 or 5, so the entire drive would be in the dark. It would usually be raining when we left which turned to snow as we headed up. Dad would have to crawl around in the snow to put on chains for the pass. Once they closed the highway because of a blizzard but they closed it right after us so we drove through the blizzard with Dad having to drive with his window open so he could knock snow off the windshield because it was coming too fast for the wipers. We obviously couldn’t stop so we just crawled along until it cleared up. It happened a lot in the winter when the driving got bad where we were not allowed to speak. And it was dark so you couldn’t lose yourself in a book. It was just cold, dark, silent, and tense.
We would pull in to Grandma and Grandpa’s on Fox Point Drive and no matter how late it was Grandma would be up waiting at the kitchen table looking out the window. She would have dinner and a fresh batch of her cookies waiting for us. Then we would go to bed and wake up to winter heaven in Spokane.