It was March in the early 1980's and we decided to give Aspen , Colorado a try for the Spring Break and a little down hill snow skiing. My son, Darrin, daughter, LaRisa, and I left my home in West Des Moines right after school was out on a Friday afternoon. We generally drove straight through with the journey taking 12 hours or so. This year the destination was Aspen.
The night journey was generally boring through Nebraska, but, there wasn't much to see anyway. The real thrill was in the morning cutting down I-76 to Denver. It was the greatest anticipation possible, waiting for when and who would see the first glimpse of the Rocky Mountains. One of life's greatest thrills is the first viewing of those beautiful majesties.
At that time, the only way into Aspen was during March, was out of I-70 to Glenwood Springs and then down highway 82 into Aspen. Another interesting thing along the way was going through the Eisenhower Tunnel that's cuts through the mountains before Dillon and Frisco.
The skiing and all that went with it was not disappointing. Aspen at the time was like a small upscale western town. One of my fondest memories was sitting in a hot tub outside our condo, with a cover over it and watching it snow and with mountains as a back drop.
The day before we left we heard a snowstorm was coming and decided to leave a day early so as as not to get stuck there. We drove west of Denver on I-70 and were met by a highway patrolman who was blocking the road from further travel.
I made the decision, the wrong one, to go north to Cheyenne and try to go around the storm. We filled up with gas in Cheyenne and headed east on I-80. It was beautiful that day and absolutely dry until 50 miles or so east of Cheyenne. Then it was like night and day.
Just like a line had been drawn, the next thing we knew we were in snow that was heavy and thick and were simply drawn into tire tracks from then on behind a line of cars as far ahead as you could see.
We were moving so slowly that our odometer was barely moving. Maybe 3-5 miles per hour. Along the way we could see an exit ahead and it seemed like hours before we got there. Cars bumper to bumper were backed up on exit ramps to get gas. Thank goodness we had filled up earlier. We were also thankful that no one had car trouble and blocked traffic.
We stopped for a while where I-80 and I-76 merged along the Platte River. It was amazing that the kids did not complain at all.
We finally made it to Ogallala, Nebraska and came out of it with just rain. The rest of the way home was a cakewalk. Atrip that normally took 12 hours turned into 24.I am glad that our guardian angel was with us!
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