My best friend, Ethan, and I rushed out the front school doors to my truck.  The bell had just given its final ring for the day, and school was finally over.  We had agreed at the beginning of the year to always, always be the first to leave the parking lot.  We hopped into my old rusty S10 and tore out of the parking lot like speed demons heedless to danger.  In seconds we were flying down the road at 60 mph with nothing in view but snow-covered cornfields and the occasional house.  It had snowed that morning, but the roads were only wet thanks to the harsh heat of the sun on that chilled December day.  The fist three miles home, the country music blared through the cracked windows, which helped to disperse the build up heat inside.  We loved the ride home just like we do every day; however, on the fourth mile home, tragedy struck.

We had just crested the first hill, and to my surprise a giant black dully truck was running down the middle of the road, coming up the hill.  The monstrous truck made no move to get to its side of the road and left me with no choice but to swerve.  Time never slowed, so I knew we weren’t going to die as my truck hit the snow.  My truck tires bounced off of the hard icy snow and spun us toward the opposite side of the road where a wide, icy ditch lay.  The tires squealed while leaving behind rubber; we finally slammed into the ditch, filled to the brim with snow and ice.  Even though the snow had just sent us into the ditch, it probably saved our lives, too.  My truck jerked to a stop.  I couldn’t believe it this was my first wreck and at least Ethan was with me, so it isn’t that bad.  Ethan, on the other hand, had said he had different thoughts going through his head.  He was thinking about how he wouldn’t be getting his usual peanut butter sandwich, which were some pretty random thoughts for the situation.  Dazed and angry, I sat there while Ethan, who was on his phone throughout the whole wreck, finally looked up and exclaimed, “Well . . . shoot!”

Since there was a huge wave of snow on the passenger side, both Ethan and I had to crawl out the driver’s side.  Seeing no way to drive back out, we felt despaired at being stuck.  Having no way to free ourselves, we set about doing the only action we could think of: digging.  I pulled out my trusty windshield scraper and handed it to Ethan as I pulled on my gloves.  Annoyed, he grabbed the scraper and set to work around the side with the mounds of piled up snow.  On the other hand, I had to use my gloved hands, and soon my gloves were soaked.  Wet, soggy, and cold, I finally called it quits with my gloves.  My fingers were numb from the cold, so I went out and stood on the road and waited patiently with my fingers under my armpits.  Shortly there after and much to my disappointment, Ethan said, “I quit, man.  This is useless.  We’ll be out here all day, trying to get unstuck.”  I agreed, and so we both waited for 25 minutes until a truck appeared.  With high hopes and feeling relieved, we tried to wave him down.  The driver took one look at us, shook his head, and kept on driving.  I being the optimist just said, “We’ll get the next one or at least the one after the next one.”  Ethan looked a little like he didn’t believe me but didn’t say anything. 

After standing around for a few minutes, we heard a low rumble like an engine.  A few seconds later, an old rusty ford drove over the hill and slowed down.  A man rolled down his window and asked if we need help.  Neither Ethan nor I wanted to call our parents for help, so we accepted the help from a man with a shaggy beard.  “Yes, sir,” we said, “and thank you, sir.”  The man slowly backed his truck up to the edge of the gray pavement.  I hooked up the orange town strap to both hitches, right before jumping into my driver’s seat.  He pulled my truck right out and asked us if we were okay.  We said, “Yes,” and thanked him again.

As we drove away to my house, feeling extremely relieved, Ethan and I both came to the same conclusion.  Our conclusion was that we would never, ever drive unprepared for snowy circumstances again and neither should anyone else.