Dumbest Driving Story
One February day, my college roommate and I decided to spend Spring Break in Key West Florida. We loaded up his '72 Monte Carlo and headed out. After spending the night at my parents, after partying with my buddies, we headed out. It was 10:00 in the morning on a dreary Saturday.
We had just left Minneapolis when we ran into a dense fog. The fog was so thick that we could not see anything out beyond the hood of the car. I noticed that if I looked down through the corner of the windshield, just forward of the front tire, underneath the yellow running light, I could see the highly reflective line that designated the shoulder of the road. I followed that line around corners, watched it leave for exits and slowly drifted to the left until I picked it up again. My buddy once mentioned, "I don't know how you can drive. I can't see a bloody thing!" I told him not to worry, I could see just fine.
So, that's how I drove, staring down at the shoulder of the highway. At 65 miles per hour. For sixteen hours. We did not wear seat belts.
At 4:00 Sunday morning, just South of Indianapolis, I pulled over and let my buddy drive. I slept until we were just North of the Florida border. He told me that the fog had cleared almost as soon as he had started driving. We made it from Minneapolis to Miami in 36 hours.
So, when people ask me how I KNOW I'm blessed, I smile. I know. I'm blessed.
We had just left Minneapolis when we ran into a dense fog. The fog was so thick that we could not see anything out beyond the hood of the car. I noticed that if I looked down through the corner of the windshield, just forward of the front tire, underneath the yellow running light, I could see the highly reflective line that designated the shoulder of the road. I followed that line around corners, watched it leave for exits and slowly drifted to the left until I picked it up again. My buddy once mentioned, "I don't know how you can drive. I can't see a bloody thing!" I told him not to worry, I could see just fine.
So, that's how I drove, staring down at the shoulder of the highway. At 65 miles per hour. For sixteen hours. We did not wear seat belts.
At 4:00 Sunday morning, just South of Indianapolis, I pulled over and let my buddy drive. I slept until we were just North of the Florida border. He told me that the fog had cleared almost as soon as he had started driving. We made it from Minneapolis to Miami in 36 hours.
So, when people ask me how I KNOW I'm blessed, I smile. I know. I'm blessed.