I keep putting off writing this post about my road trip with my Dad because I’m not sure how to express in words how meaningful it was for the two of us. When Tim and I came out to Seattle in September we had to leave most of our belongings with our friends in Wheaton because there was still a chance we’d have to move back to the area if we couldn’t find work in Seattle. Once we secured jobs and an apartment here in the city, I bought a plane ticket to Chicago and began planning a trip with my Dad. He and my mom packed all our wedding gifts into the back of our Chevy truck in North Carolina and Dad drove up to Chicago to meet me. Together, with my brother’s help, we gathered all our belongings from Wheaton, packed them into a U-Haul, and from there we made the long trek across the rest of the country.
Upon leaving Wheaton we decided to stop in Rockford to surprise a friend of Dad’s who he hadn’t seen in more than 20 years. I’d met Steve when I was a year old, but of course I have no memory of that…I loved sitting back and listening to them share stories and reminisce on the few years that they lived in Oregon together. The time we spent with Steve made me think a lot about the relationships that we have and how even a relatively brief friendship can impact our lives in drastic ways.
After seeing Steve, we continued our drive west, stopping in Sioux Falls for the night. The next day as we continued our trek across frigid South Dakota, the truck started to cough and sputter…and then die. We quickly realized our gas gauge was far below empty and I began consulting the GPS for the closest gas station. We had a choice between the station that was 7 miles away or the one we’d have to drive 14 miles to reach. We knew 7 miles would be a stretch since the truck was dying every half-mile or so, but it was our only choice. We followed the GPS’s voice as she directed us off the highway onto a seemingly never-ending road that stretched into the gray wintery farm fields. I laugh thinking back to Dad leaning forward over the steering wheel and me leaning forward with the GPS in my hands as if that would help our little green Chevy truck gain some momentum to go farther. Pretty soon the gas tank was truly empty and we slowed to a stop. The landscape was empty apart from old barns as far as we could see…except for the little blue farmhouse we happened to stop right in front of. The lady who lived there was pulling into her driveway right as our truck died for the last time and I hopped out to ask her for help. She gave us a couple gallons of gas to help us on our way and directed us into town for the nearest station where we could fill up. Needless to say, we watched our gas gauge much more carefully the rest of the trip.
Dad and I continued on through the Badlands as night fell and we stopped in Rapid City for the night. We drove up the hill into the snowy fog the next morning hoping to catch a glimpse of Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse Monument. When we arrived at Rushmore, there was nothing to see but gray fog, so instead of standing out in the cold staring at fog, we ventured into the museum where it was much warmer and we could sit in comfy theater seats to watch a movie about the monument. When we emerged from the film, we found that our four presidents had emerged from the fog as well :) Unfortunately we weren’t able to see Crazy Horse at all – we were turned away at the gate because the gray gloom hadn’t lifted all morning.
That night we completed a terrifying drive to Billings, Montana, as a record-setting snowstorm descended on us. The snow was falling hard and the wind stirred everything up making it next to impossible to stay on the road. On top of that, big empty cattle trucks would pass us at breakneck speeds, leaving a huge cloud of snow in their wake. We trudged on, slowly making our way across the dark snowy landscape, praying all the ice on the road wouldn’t send our truck and trailer into a ditch. The next day was a similar story – we had fairly good driving conditions early in the day, but as night began to fall, the snow did as well. Once again the roads were unbelievably icy and invisible beneath all the snow. Dad and I found ourselves pleading with the Lord to get us through the storm safely, and He was faithful to answer our prayers. We went from being absolutely terrified of another night of driving through a snowstorm (I was literally trembling so hard I couldn’t stop myself), to having a wave of calm wash over us. Only God can provide peace like that. Once we made it up over the Montana and Idaho mountains, we found a hotel in Spokane for the night and we rested before a third day of snowstorm driving. The drive across Washington was fairly uneventful until we began our ascent into the Cascade mountains. The snow began to fall heavily and every warning sign saying “Traction Tires Advised” and “Chains Required” made our rear-wheel drive truck seem sorely inadequate to tow a heavy U-Haul over the mountain pass. After a painstaking drive up over the mountains we learned that 4-wheel drive vehicles are not immune to the snow (many vehicles flew past us only to end up in the ditch later), that the 3 or 4 lane (we couldn’t tell) highway over Snoqualmie Pass is just the right width for one vehicle with a trailer driving in the snow and ice, and that next time we have a Daddy-Daughter Road Trip we’ll take it in June or July ;)
Despite having three nights of terrible driving conditions and several near-accidents, I am so grateful that my Dad and I had that experience together. I’ve been a Daddy’s girl my whole life and I look up to him more than he probably realizes. Seeing him as scared as he was while we were driving in such frightening conditions broke some of the illusions that I have about him being above all that. But it didn’t stop at just being scared. Instead of allowing us to wallow in the terror we were feeling, he turned to the Lord for help and together we were able to experience the work of the Holy Spirit in calming us and getting us through each storm safely. I am so grateful to the Lord for the way that he blessed this time with my Dad and how he has strengthened our relationship through it. Hopefully from this you get a tiny glimpse of how Dad and I have been blessed with each other and with a deep friendship - my words don't quite do it justice.
The wonderful Pratt family who we are so thankful to know!
SO thankful to be safely in Seattle!
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