12/29/07

The difference between tonight and today was like... well, it was like the difference between night and day.

The daytime was a pretty mellow affair. Lots of mountains, a few snow storms, pretty decent roads, not much traffic, plenty of boredom.

Tonight I made a call to the Oregon 800 number to see what was what. They said that Cabbage was snow packed and icy and that chains were required from mile 221 to mile 252. Okay, we'll just put in at the Flying J at mile 265 and head back out in the morning.

At mile 285... chain law. Shit. I got hoodwinked. Fucking 800 numbers.

So I pulled over and cracked the side box. It took me a bit to figure out how the damn things worked, but I had a pretty good idea. Then I realized something. Your humble blogger does not have the ability to put chains on tires. I'm not talking about the willingness. I did try. I moved up and back. I tried different approaches. I don't have the ability. I wrestled with those damn things for what seemed like an eternity. I was out of breath, dirty, covered in snow, and generally discouraged. So I hopped back in the truck to take a break, warm up a little, and see what I could come up with. I had managed to get the chains mainly on the tires, but I couldn't for the life of me get them centered.

Just then, the overhead street lights shut off. I assumed that there was a reason, so I called that damn 800 number back. No more chain law. Beauty.

At that point I decided that I might as well not stop at that Flying J. If they just lifted the chain law, they probably just plowed the road. Now is probably as good as ever. Let's go. I must admit that I'm at least a little disappointed. I had read some website that said Cabbage has the tightest turns on the interstate system. I'm calling bullshit on that one. I'm not an engineer, so I don't know how you measure the tightness of turns, but I've been on nearly every interstate in this country. There are a lot of turns tighter than those ones.

I had to chuckle as I rolled past all the guys who chained up while I was cursing the state of Oregon. My incompetence got me across the mountain a little faster. According to the little chart before the steep part, my max speed was 18mph. I came down at 24mph. What can I say? I'm a rebel.

Anyhow, down the other side of the mountain it was just a little rainy. Of course, at that point it was time to call it a night. Story of my life.

It will be a couple hundred miles into Portland from here. Apparently the beer distributor is open on Sunday (according to my dispatch) but we'll have to see.