It was a treacherous ride all the way home from Ogden. The snow was blowing so hard sideways, the visibility was minimal and traffic was ridiculous. We stopped in Evanston long enough for Andie to run in and get some things from her grandparents for a report on Scotland and by the time we got back on the highway it had just closed . . literally just! We missed it by about two minutes! But they didn’t have the gate down [just the chain-law-in-effect sign blinking across both lanes] so we ventured on — carefully, slowly, hoping we wouldn’t run off the road and get a ticket for not having chains or 4-wheel drive!
We only got a few miles before we realized we’d made a big mistake. The traffic stopped moving and there were semis and cars and trucks all over the place. We had been stopped for about a half hour when I decided to walk up to a truck up in front a ways and ask him what was going on since he had, himself, just taken a walk forward. He couldn’t really tell me much but offered to let us get in their truck if we weren’t warm enough. Looking back in the opposite direction I realized lot’s of other people evidently ignored the signs too, because there were plenty of people behind us!
Another forty minutes or so, Scott put on his coat [over his shorts] and walked the 3/4 mile in sleeting, blowing, freezing, piling-up snow to the front of the line-up. He found two semi trucks across the lanes of traffic. He said their noses were pretty close together but the back-ends were flared out away from each other. They were both unable to move anywhere. Scott told them they needed to move off the road so the seven miles of stopped traffic behind them could get through. There was also a snow plow up there that couldn’t move. One truck driver said he couldn’t backup because there was traffic behind him so Scott went to the traffic and had them move. The semi, finally after two hours of being stopped, backed enough to let the other semi through, and the snow plow. Traffic began inching forward at the pace of a paraplegic snail and voilà! We made the 35 miles from Evanston in in a little over two and a half hours.
Oddly enough, we didn’t see a policeman, highway patrolman, or any other legal-type vehicle. We were all out there trying to figure this out by ourselves. At one point I called the highway patrol at the port of entry and she verified that the roads were closed in both directions from Evanston to Rock Springs. Gee, ya think? I said to her, “The gates weren’t even closed! And the sign did not say closed. It just said chain law.” She kept repeating, “The roads are closed in both direction from . . .] ugh.
I was actually pretty satisfied with the way we managed to get home, un-clogging the traffic jam, keeping our heads about us, creeping along until we got here. Even though we didn’t have any of the usual help. I have to say that after Andie also climbed out of the car to go find her dad [he was taking so long and we were scared and worried — little did we know he was directing traffic up there] I said a long prayer explaining to Heavenly Father the entire situation and that we really needed his wisdom, direction and protection.
He’s the One I’d rather have helping us more than anyone else.