I am a person who never goes looking for adventure. I don’t bungee jump, hang glide, or strap on a parachute and hurl myself out of airplanes. I just drift through life doing what I have to do when I have to do it, all cool, calm, and collected. Whether I like it or not, adventure finds me. I am always oblivious, and adventure usually sneaks up and grabs me right in the a$$ taking me by surprise.
When I was a college freshmen at Belmont University, I decided on the spur of the moment that I wanted to go home. Let’s forget the fact that home happened to be an 8 hour drive away. Even though I had told my mom that I intended to spend the weekend on campus, as soon as my last class was over I was overcome with the need, determination, and insanity to drive home.
I threw some clothes and books into the back of my car, cranked the radio’s volume to full blast and pointed my car north. I was 18, had the world by the a$$, and wanted to go home, so away I went. I checked no weather reports because the sun was shining. I notified no one that I was on my way. I just got in my car and moved it right along.
Somewhere along the way the sun retreated behind the clouds. The threatening skies made little difference to me. I had my tunes cranked and at that moment I was singing along to Bon Jovi. I had my mojo working, my head was banging to the beat, and I was really getting into the music when all of a sudden a newscaster broke into the middle of the song. “If you are in Brown County, take shelter immediately! A tornado has touched down near I-65 and is traveling north. Repeat, if you are in the path of this storm, take cover NOW!” It took me a minute for this piece of information to register. “Oh hells bells, I am on I-65!” I then passed a sign welcoming me to Brown County. Brown County!! I gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and looked around. I looked over to my left and just about $hit my pants. There was a huge tornado blowing up a barn right alongside of me!! I freaked out. I didn’t know whether to cuss or pray so I did a little bit of both.
Instead of pulling off to the side of the road and taking cover, I slammed my foot to the gas pedal and floored it. All the other vehicles around me had the same reaction because everyone seemed to move in a pack like a bat out of hell. Rain poured down in sheets. I couldn’t see where I was going. All I could see was the tail lights of the semi truck in front of me. I knew if that semi truck went off the road, I would follow it. If the tornado changed course, it would hit me. Either way I sliced it, I was probably going to be having tea and cakes with Je$u$ in short order. So I buried the gas pedal, said a prayer, and hauled a$$ all the way to Indianapolis.
By the time I reached Indianapolis, I had to pee BAD. Honestly it is a wonder I didn’t pee myself on the way. My brain was frazzled and if I wasn’t three sandwiches short of a picnic before, I was definitely a little closer to needing a straight jacket by the time I guided my Dodge Shelby Charger through the construction barricades that surrounded the gas station.
Evidently I drove through the wrong barriers because the next thing I knew my car was nose down in a deep ditch. I lost it with a capital L. I managed to climb out of my car and rushed up to the station to demand they get my car out of their little moat NOW. I was going to pee, use the phone, and then I wanted to head on down the highway. It didn’t matter if it was my fault for having my head up my a$$ and driving through the wrong barriers. It was their barriers, their moat, and their job to get it un-f***** immediately before I completely lost my mind right there in their lovely establishment. Before long I was back on the road with only a scratch on the spoiler.
I finally did make it home and lived to tell the tale. I never go looking for adventure, but I always manage to find it no matter how much I try to avoid it until next time when I give you another glimpse into the life of a trucker’s wife.