Here is the map of the trip I had today. Mapquest says 159 miles, 3 hours 5 minutes:



My time? Six hours, fifteen minutes. Two hours and 15 minutes of that were at a dead stop near Skykomish. Love it!

Here is the blog entry I wrote in Word while waiting there:

Blog on Stevens Pass

The snow is really coming down. We, that is the line of cars I can see neither the beginning nor the end of, are stopped somewhere near Scenic, lined up like prospectors on Chilkoot Pass. I am not in any danger, really, but it would be nice to get radio reception. I don’t know why we are stopped, but I’m sure it has something to do with accidents farther on.

The two major passes in Washington State were closed yesterday. Snoqualmie (I-90) remains closed as we anticipate another foot of snow today alone. Avalanche control crews can’t keep up with it. Stevens Pass was closed overnight, and the eastbound lanes (that I’m in) reopened early this morning.

One car, a minivan, just pulled out of line and headed back down the hill. It’s a good 20 miles to anyplace with bare and wet pavement, so I hope they are cool with that.

Chains are required for everyone except those with all-wheel drive. I’m one of those, in my Subaru Outback. It is my goal to not be cocky. I could get quickly sidetracked and become less attentive than I should be if I start thinking I’m special. I’m not. I’ve put this car into a spin in the snow (on purpose) and I know what it feels like. Just as sphincter-puckering as in a two-wheel-drive vehicle. So I’m taking it easy. Well, right now, I’m taking it nowhere, since we’re sitting here.

The snow has increased even since I started this entry. We’re nowhere near whiteout, but it’s a steady snowfall like we seldom see in western Washington. I’m probably ten miles from the top of the pass, after which I could likely make decent, though not normal, time. I estimated that it would take me four hours from Tacoma this morning; it’s been 2 hours 45 minutes and I’ve got at least 50 miles to go. At 20mph or below, no doubt.

I’ve already had an email from the Cajun, from 6,000 miles away, saying he knows the pass conditions, and to be safe. That’s some giggidy friendship there, I tell you. And Donkee has checked in, too. Yay. My peeps, my posse, checking on me through the miracle of the internet age.

One cruelty of this situation is the oh-so-NOT-practical electric driver’s seat I have. Subaru thought it was being smart and sexy to have a seat for the driver that was tres moderne and push-button convenient. I slide myself back, zhh zhh zhh, at a snail’s pace. No problem. But, should the cars in front of me start to move, I have to slide myself forward, zhh zhh zhh, at the same snail’s pace. Drivers behind me could get pissed. So I optimistically zhh’d my seat to the forward position, just in case we start moving, and am typing with my laptop crammed between my diaphragm and the steering wheel. If I type enthusiastically, I am in danger of honking the horn. Easy, big girl.

I have no way of uploading this until I am safe and warm at Sissie’s house, whenever I get there. Methinks I did a good thing loading my meds in my bag in their original bottles rather than just taking enough for the weekend. I’ve heard that the snow isn’t going to let up for several days. My sister is, at this very minute, trying to convince my parents to stay east of the mountains until such time as the pass is, well, passable.

That won’t be today.

Update: My parents did drive home. I think they will be fine.

I'm sitting at my sister's house, having a glass of dry champagne.

The play is tonight. Grubber is a poppy and a Munchkin. Yay!