I don’t know how we didn’t get killed.
We were driving up the mountain roads in West Virginia.
We turned left to pull in to a little area at the base of what was possibly supposed to be a waterfall. But no water was falling. We turned around to head back up the mountain. We needed to turn left back on to the road. Problem was, the road curved out of sight very shortly up the road without being able to see much. And it curved to our right out of sight as well.
Left right left right.
Both of us. Nothing coming.
He moves the car loaded with bikes out on to the road.
And there it was.
A semi. A semi carrying logs.
It was, to this point in my life, the absolute only time I truly thought I (we) were going to die.
At that exact moment in time I was already imagining the semi hitting us. I wondered what it would feel like. And I didn’t care to find out. But I was tensed for it.
Husband floored the gas and hauled us across the road. The semi never braked. It didn’t slow down. I can’t help but wonder if it didn’t even see us. I still have no idea how that truck didn’t plow in to us. Until it was completely past us I was waiting for the crunch of it as it drove in to us.
We drove up the road and we had to pull over. Get out. And move. I had to jump up and down to dislodge my heart from my throat. I think there was a part of us that wanted to make sure we were really not back down that mountain a little ways, having left our earthly bodies behind.
It was that horrifying.
I can’t help but contemplate how many near misses we have in our life times.
I sincerely believed we were going to get hit. And I am amazed, looking back, at how calm we both were.
I don’t even have a point to this story. Other than I’m alive to write it.
Have you ever been this scared?