I got worried when I heard a news reporter note that Snoqualmie Pass had received snowfall much earlier than usual this year. For the next few days I checked the online ‘live camera feeds’ of Snoqualmie Pass and noted nothing unusual: no snow, no road closures. Friday before my intended date of departure the live camera feeds showed clear road conditions and I began making plans (buying snacks, topping up the tank, printing my travel itinerary etc.) to hit the road …..I depart Seattle on Saturday, October 6th under overcast skies and the slow rainy day drizzle.

My first day (and night) of travel was amazing. I had experienced the beauty of Washington State’s Cascade Range but I was not prepared for the temptation and awe I experienced at first sight of one of the many ranges making up the Rocky Mountains in Idaho and then shortly afterward the outright indulgence of beauty when entering Montana from the West and continuing until I reached my first nights destination of Butte. I left Butte Sunday morning heading eastward on I-90 to the I-29 junction in Sioux Falls, SD and proceeded until I reached my second nights destination in Missouri.

Sunday, by far, was one of the most remarkable experiences of my life. The drive along I-90 along southern Montana and Northern Wyoming is gorgeous (long) but nonetheless, breathtaking. Some time after leaving Butte on Sunday morning, and after my first tank top-up I noticed some beautiful snow-capped mountains in the background. The mountains were especially beautiful to me I suppose, because of the contrast they presented; at the time I recall driving through a fairly flat, dry, desert/plain like area but in the distance were these wonderful snow capped mountains. I admired them.

My trip started out pretty sunny but I encountered some rainy patches that although endured a short time, put a damper on the scenery. I also noticed that the snow capped mountains that I’d admired before were getting closer and that the outside temperature was dropping (I had to turn on the heat for the first time). I began approaching areas with snow on the ground, but the temperature had yet to reach freezing and so the snow was a just a dusty white powder fluttering around in response to the residue air from the cars and trucks that whizzed by.

Gradually, but surely, this light fluttery snow began spreading onto the interstate and as I continued driving the build up became heavier and heavier until I could no longer see the road and what’s more, I could no longer see the beautiful snow-capped mountains in the distance. Frankly, I could no longer see.

Agitated by the wind the light fluttery snow dusting the road eventually transformed into a full blown ‘Powder Snow Storm’. Essentially: I could not see the road, I could not see the white lines on the side or middle of the road, I could not see what was to my left and I could not see what was to my right, I could not see behind me and I couldn’t see in front of me. I was driving and couldn’t see anything.

I panic. With both hands on the wheel, squinting to maintain the limited vision I had of the lights in front of me…There’s always an exception of grace in these types of circumstances. For about an hour or so prior to encountering the Powdery Snow Storm I’d been trailing a Jeep Cherokee and fortunately during the Powdering Snow Storm I had maintained some closeness to that Jeep and continued to trail it’s back tail lights through the white haze.

I think of escape scenarios’ my mind now chaotic. They all fail. Stopping or pulling over was out of the question when I was in the midst of a never-ending cascade of white. Then I began retracing my life…I thought about everything: my eulogy, stopping, pulling over, missing the flight to Japan, not eating more brie at Denee’s condo warming party 2 nights earlier…Everything. I say calming things. I Pray.

Then Silence overwhelms me. There is hardly a radio signal in these back remote areas and I’d already been traveling for hours on end without any music or the occassional 10 minute encounter with NPR before I completely pass through the town carrying that signal. But the Silence, the Chill of that drive hit me suddenly, sharply and then the entire situation became beautiful and I laughed out loud. Literally.

It was a deep laugh; almost foreign to me. I thought for a moment, ‘Was that me laughing?’ Maybe it was a laugh only reserved for these types of circumstances. Hiding in reserve for the opportune moment. The kind of laugh God reserves for moments when we doubt His power….

I laughed and laughed, just giddy. And I notice that there are headlights coming from side of I-90 heading West Bound and that the Jeep’s tail lights are more clearer to me now. Everything outside (and inside of me) is peaceful. I admire this peace and am joyful that I’m experiencing something I may never experience again.

I continued on this blinded path with the faith and soothing that my bizarre laughter emptied into me for what seems like approximately 30-45 minutes. But I guess it’s fare to say that extraordinary circumstances often appear much longer or shorter than they really are; time is easily distorted. Even as I write this, I can’t recall if I was actually in Montana or Wyoming at the time.

Eventually, I began seeing specs of light in the distance, the Jeep’s tail lights disappear ahead of me….and then abruptly, as if lil’ engine was sitting under a rain cloud that decided to move to a new location, the countryside, the road, the Sun all became visible to me. As I glance back at my journey through the rear view mirror I see the Powdery Snow Storm fevertly continuing it’s course behind a wall of white that, depending on your desitnation, marked the entry or exit point.

Perhaps only in cartoons had I seen such a clear transition from one element to another. There was no tapering off, no gradual fading into the atmostphere…the Powdery Snow Storm had a clear ending.

The snowcapped mountains I’d admired some hours prior were now behind me. I had passed through them.

There are so many themes and interpretations I could use to describe my experience that day. But rather than endeavor to elaborate on them all here I’d like to express that surrendering to the events of preparation is an earthshaking experience. (Originally Posted on December 7, 2008)