Over the hills, but not too far away.

Thursday, January 19^th, 2012

      This post is dedicated to a guy named Rito. Rito was my room-mate for orientation here at Swift and a really good dude. He'll surface now and again on my Facebook feed. In one such instance, he posted a picture of Government pass, covered in snow. The caption read, “I'm about to make Government Pass my bitch.” For those who do not know Rito, he's a big guy, and like a lot of good dudes with huge frames, he is a bit quiet, so this quote, while not surprising made me laugh a good bit. In honor of you sir, I made Donner Pass my bitch tonight.

      Scanning in my paperwork in the drivers' lounge here in Sparks, three of us got to talking. Oddly enough, one of the guys didn't know about Donner Pass' claim to fame re:cannibalism. I was going to tell the story here, but that is what Wikipedia is for. Or Google. That said, Donner pass is now the home of interstate 80 between Reno and Sacramento for those who do not know. Again, one could look that up, but we are busy enough, amiright? On to the story.

      Having encountered less rush hour traffic than I anticipated in Sacramento, I was pretty jazzed to make some good time. There were some light showers in the city, and heading east up 80. Against all sanity, I was hoping that the pass itself would be merely wet instead of snowy. No such luck. Having driven some 4 hours already, I stop at a rest area to take a break. I've listened to the radio as advised by numerous flashing signs along the way. “Four wheel drive with snow tires required, chains otherwise.” So I'm still hoping to get by with my big honkin' tires. A few miles up the road from the rest area a long line of trucks is pulled over on the side of the road. It is time to chain up.

      When I first started, is was merely a light rain falling. As I got closer to complete with rigging up the chains and darkness settled (this was after the p.m. rush hour) the snow started to fly. I was at about 3000 feet. Uh-oh. Heading off with chains firmly affixed, I am glad to be going. Maybe I can make some good time. At this point, I have absolutely no sense of how long the pass is. Max speed is 30 mph. No problem. Well, I only feel safe at 25 or 20, with anything from one half to three inches of snow on the pavement. For most of the time I can hear my chains hitting the road, making a kind of zipper type noise with some extra clinking. Then there are times when all I hear is the clink of the free link against the wrapped chain, meaning that I'm driving solely on compacted snow, no surface contact. It took me an hour to put the chains on, but I am glad I did it. There is a feeling of bravery or heroism that comes with driving with chains on. Like you're so committed to getting through that nothing will stop you. All of this for a memory foam mattress destined for a K-Mart somewhere in the Reno area. Perspective can be a cruel mistress sometimes.

      The top of the pass sits at 7227 feet above sea level. It drops of sharply as you continue east, with some tricky curves. I slow to 15 mph. Of course there is somebody whizzing by to get some place, and that same car ended up spun out on the side of the road not 4 miles afterwards. No rush. I take my time getting down from the summit. Forty miles and two hours later, I am across Donner pass. Taking my chains off, I find that one of them has completely shredded and became lodged between my trailer tandems. I work to get it out, fingers burning with metallic cold. Yeah, they don't pay me enough to do this. At least I got to eat when I got to Sparks and a story to tell. You will not see a snow story about me going over the pass the other way, I promise, for my own sanity if nothing else.

     In the map below, the points between "B" and "C" represent the part of the journey spent driving in chains.

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