I would be happy if I didn’t have to drive more than 20 miles from home for the rest of this winter, but I already know that ain’t gonna happen. I’ve put in a lot of miles this fall going back and forth between southern Oregon and our (now former) home in East Wenatchee, and this last trip yesterday was a doozy. Daughter Jenny and I left Wenatchee at 8:15 am Saturday morning in brisk, minus-4-degree weather. We were eager to get as far south and west as quickly as we could because a nasty storm was predicted later in the day. Our route took us over Blewett Pass at 4,102 feet on U.S Highway 97 and then east toward Seattle on Interstate 90 over Snoqualmie Pass (3,022 feet). It was smooth sailing the whole way, with the roadway mostly bare and dry. Snow coated the trees, giving us an etching in black and white save for the red-orange of the bark on the Ponderosa pines and the red-twig dogwood in the creek beds. By the time we stopped to swap driving responsibilities south of Olympia, we were about 3 1/2 hours into the trip and feeling good about the progress we’d made. Snow was beginning to fall as Jenny took the wheel and we continued toward Portland on Interstate 5. Calling ahead, we learned it had been snowing in Portland all morning, but the major roads seemed to be mostly clear. Jenny hadn’t driven since mid-summer, living as she does in the land of the CTA (Chicago), but she handled her responsibilities with aplomb (even with me failing to mask my nerves in the seat beside her). We maintained our progress at about 50 miles an hour, keeping a good distance between ourselves and the vehicles ahead and beside us. We decided to skirt Portland to the east on I-205 to avoid some of the hills and bridges through town and got our first taste of the cold east winds howling down the Columbia Gorge (which have closed I-84 for more than a day now). We finally rejoined I-5 south of Portland, noticing all the while that the snow seemed to be falling more heavily and that the State Patrol info line (511) was completely unhelpful, having been updated last between four and eight hours earlier! We stopped somewhere north of Salem to fill up the tank and give Jenny a break from the driving. We heard that the snow would be changing over to rain just south of Salem, but it was hard to believe as we watched the snow quickly piling up. The reports were correct though, and 20 miles further on the drive home turned rainy and dark but no longer icy. Although we didn’t acknowledge it to each other during the 11-plus hours we spent driving those 600 miles yesterday, we both found ourselves holding the wheel in a white-knuckle grip at times. We are feeling it in our arms and shoulders today! We never lost traction or got stuck, but the potential was there. More than anything, we decided there were some basic reasons why we made it safely home while we passed others in the ditch or filling out accident reports. It never ceases to amaze me at the way some folks choose to drive in the kind of weather that it seems most of the country is going to be experiencing this week. My suggestions? Have good snow tires on and carry chains–and know how to put them on (our girls couldn’t get their driving licenses until they could show us they could change a tire and put chains on and take them off). Even having 4-wheel drive does NOT make you impervious to ice, so choose a reasonable speed for the conditions. Allow plenty of space between you and other vehicles, and don’t make sudden lane changes or quick movements with the wheel. Pay attention to those big rigs; those drivers can probably see farther down the road than you and may have information about what lies ahead. We knew when the semis’ lights started to flash that there was some sort of accident or hazard ahead and reacted accordingly. And, for heaven’s sake, turn on your headlights! Just because you can see doesn’t mean the other drivers can see you. Of course, the best advice of all is to stay home if at all possible, cozy up to the fire with a warm drink and a good book and don’t budge until spring! Patty Vanikiotis, proofreader