High Drama on the Mountain

Ian: Well, folks, we just survived a bit of drama that I never have experienced before.

Fiona: You're right, bro. We were driving from Virginia to North Carolina, according to the big folks. We were climbing up from the Shenandoah Valley to the Blue Ridge Parkway that runs down the spine of the mountains.

Ian: And I was sitting on the dash of the motor home, with my feet up on the windshield. I like to drive this way because I get support. Just as we reached 3,000 feet, there was a flashing sign. As you probably know, I can't read. But the parental units began chattering and I could feel the tension in the air.

Fiona: The sign, they said, warned of thick fog for the next 7.5 miles. As we came over the summit, there it was like a huge wet blanket. At first, visibility was about 100 yards ahead. It was downhill all the way now, so Robert geared down. We were traveling at around 55 miles an hour but that was too fast. He braked time after time.

Ian: Now, the visibility was down to 25 yards, maybe less. It didn't worry me because I have complete faith in the parental units to get us to our destination. But I could feel the tension. I might even say it was as thick as the fog. Robert had his lights on, of course, but he was quite whiny about the number of cars in front who had no tail-lights and they would come and go in the thick fog. They would be visible when they applied their brakes. But they would disappear again the moment the driver took his foot off the brake.

Fiona: Scary stuff this. The miles slid by and the fog stayed thick as a woolen blanket. We came down more than six miles and were around 1,300 feet before the blanket began to lift. You could feel the tension lift in our home as things began to clear. When we passed the tiny town of Bottom on Interstate 77 the fog had cleared and all our spirits had returned with the usual comfortable driving.

Ian: We all discussed the drama (well, we just listened) and the consensus was there should have been signs to ask drivers to click on their flashing lights which would have helped cars and the trucks and RVs that followed them down the mountain.