Saturday, February 22, 2025
Feast of the Chair of Saint Peter, Apostle
(click here to listen to or read today’s scriptures)
Hog Hollow Road
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside still waters, he restores my soul.
What better place to lie down in green pastures than Hog Hollow Road in the winter, just a few miles east of Devil’s Elbow, Missouri and the Uranus Fudge Factory on I 44? Although the night before had been full of freezing rain and then 8 inches of snow on top, the interstate was clear on a sunny Wednesday morning.
Then I saw a flashing sign beside the highway, impossible to miss: TWO-HOUR DELAY AFTER MILE MARKER 159. Google Maps told me the same thing. Waze warned me. Of course, there had been an accident. I thought of taking a nap for two hours, but it was 9 am and my “nap” lasted precisely 10 minutes at a tiny CENEX station getting much more than its normal share of customers. I headed back to the big highway through the country, 637 miles long following old Route 66.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. On Tuesday I dashed out of Austin about 9 am, light traffic, up I35 through the Dallas maze of freeways stacked on top of each other, listening to the google girl, changing lanes when she told me too, staying in my lane the rest of the time. I spent an hour talking with a client on the phone, stopped for gas, made a Fairfield Inn reservation in Joplin, Missouri and headed into Oklahoma, where the wind comes sweepin’ down the plain.  Not long after two pm the ice began falling out of the sky, blowing straight into my windshield. Traffic dwindled to nearly nothing on Highway 75.
I stopped every ten minutes, then every five to break ice off the wipers and scrape ice off the glass, while the wind ripped through my coat and baseball cap. In an hour the freezing rain stopped, sort of, and it began to snow. Only a few of us – semis, a few pickups, and me in my Prius, out there trying to get somewhere.
I did make it to Joplin, where the snow had fallen all afternoon. The parking lot at the Fairfield Inn wasn’t plowed, but my cool All Wheel Drive Toyota slid right through the soft white snow into the only parking place left in the lot. Eleven hours after leaving Austin, I took nothing but my dop kit inside, signed my name, opened the door to a cozy warm, soft-lit room with a king-size bed, and fell into it within minutes. So good!
You prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies; my cup runneth over.
Wednesday morning looked good and felt good, although sunlight in 2 degree temps didn’t warm me up much. Biscuits and gravy warmed me more.
Lo, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for thou art with me. Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me.
It was a couple of hours later that I saw the sign. Two-hour delay ahead. I had already seen a hundred or more semis and abandoned cars and pickups, covered with police tape. The Missouri National Guard was called out to help rescue stranded motorists the night before. This was not a good time to be on the road. And when my guides suggested I take a small side road to avoid the traffic jam, I wondered about whether it had been plowed. Highway P. I took it anyway.
Highway P had been plowed, sort of. The sun shone through beautiful pine trees – we were on the edge of the Ozark Mountains. Google told me, and told several other folks in their cars, to follow this road for 9 miles.
Then 3.6 miles down the road, traffic stopped. A fireman talked to someone in the first car, which turned around, and the rest of us followed. Another accident.
And then soon, another Google suggestion. Turn right on Hog Hollow Road.
Which wasn’t plowed, but a few other cars had made a path. I followed a four-wheeler four miles back to I44. So beautiful. What a great adventure.
And it was. Once back on the highway going east, I found maybe maybe a ten minute delay. What troubled me was a twenty-mile plus back-up going west, probably a 10 hour delay, or more. I knew how those drivers must feel. Would they be out there all night?
Later I searched for news about this patience-breaking back-up, and I found facebook pages and TV news stories. As traffic began moving ever so slowly, some police officers were assigned to wake up semi-truck drivers so they could get moving again. Thousands of schedules were thrown in the trash. So far, my schedule wasn’t one of them. I thought, let’s just see what happens next.
Driving into Springfield, Illinois late Wednesday afternoon felt like pulling into heaven. I love my various slices of adventure, watching to see what happens next, putting myself in the hands of God. And I also love how it feels when the adventure is over. Just to sit in Chris and Melissa’s warm living room by their fire, look forward to a birthday dinner with Jack who will be sixteen on Monday, and breathe. Breathe deep, and smile. Time to rest.
Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.
 (1 Peter 5, Psalm 23, Matthew 16)
(posted at www.davesandel.net)
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