Ice Road Truckers and Curative Powers of Mount Shasta

For a family of nomads who materialized, unannounced, in Portland, Oregon, the two months we spent subletting there were never lonesome.  When it was finally time to leave, it was bittersweet.  On one hand we were reuniting with family after not seeing some for five months, but on the other hand we were leaving behind many friends and a beautiful class of fifth graders at Abernethy Elementary School.

But it was time to leave, and the leaving was even more urgent considering a massive snow and ice storm rolling in just days before we were rolling out.  The week prior to our departure I saw this weather in a forecast and I freaked out.  It was a Friday and we were supposed to stay another seven days.

I ran over to Jon, panicked.  "Have you seen this?"  Massive snow Wednesday and then not cracking 25 degrees F for the next four days after that. I googled how to drive a fifth wheel in the ice.  The answer: “You don’t.”  Jon insisted it would be fine; some reference to the show Ice Road Truckers was made.

I was seriously afraid.  Full disclosure: I am a terrible passenger, especially since we started cruising around in a twenty thousand pound rig.  So bad, in fact, I have had to start taking Xanax prior to each trip.  This ice thing had me in a full-on panic attack.  Hyperventilating, I asked Jon if he would not leave now, a week early, was he willing to drive the ice alone? I added that it was probably better he did not have a wife, crazed with fear, at his side the whole time.

He said, “Yeah, sure.”

Searching for alternate transportation back to Redding I found I could get a direct sleeper train for Axel and I from Union Station in Portland to Redding- no transfers required.  Quite affordable, too.  Tip: if purchasing Amtrak fare go to eBay and search Amtrak Voucher.  We bought one worth $350 for $220.  So, in other words, our $350 train fare was only $220.

That next Friday Jon was on his own to drive in the ice while Axel and took an Uber (that only slid around two times) to Union Station.  Here is the tale of two travels, starting with Axel and I:

Union Station in Portland.  Drawing courtesy of splintercat.org

"Go by Train!" the Union Station sign encouraged.  I could not agree more. If you get a sleeper car you get the VIP treatment.  We walked in to the station and saw a line of travelers the size of a football field.  I went over to customer service and she said we should skip the line and head to the Metropolitan Lounge for complimentary drinks, snacks, and personal service.  Score.  We got into the lounge and showed the attendant our ticket.  He said, "Hello Cyndi and Axel, we've been expecting you."  From that point forward all the attendants knew who we were and treated us like royalty.  I had no idea this was going to happen.

Axel and I in front of the window in our private room. 

At one point we were in the car next to ours and Axel was about to try the wrong room.  That car's attendant said, "Hey Axel, you are in the next car."  The Amtrak people are amazing.  Old school customer service.

Because our tickets included all meals, we dropped our things off in the sleeper car and headed over to the dining car for lunch.  Amtrak does community seating in the dining car. Once Axel and were seated we were joined by John Tunney Sr. and his son, John Tunney Jr.  John Sr. was born and raised in Ireland and immigrated to the US as a young man.  He now has a wine property in the Eldorado Hills and another property somewhere else in the Bay Area.  He and his son traveled from the Bay to Portland on the train, solely for the train ride, spending just one night in Portland and promptly returning.  Cool guys.

If having lunch with strangers, I highly recommend being seated with a couple Irishmen.  Great conversation and fun, as you can see in the picture above.

Later that afternoon, after watching much of the Willamette Valley slip by, Axel and I took a jigsaw puzzle to the Parlor Car.  The Parlor Car was just for sleeper passengers and it had a bar with delicious cocktails, lovely tables, soft armchairs, and old-school decor.  We liked it so much we decided to take our dinner later that night in the Parlor Car. 

Axel works the jigsaw puzzle.

Here is Axel getting ready for his dinner in the Parlor Car.

After the dinner we went back to our sleeper to watch movies.  Did you know can now download Netflix shows and movies, allowing uninterrupted viewing while passing though zones of no data coverage?  Pretty nice when traveling through cell dead spots.  So we did that for a while and then our car attendant came and converted the room, which had been two soft chairs, into two comfy beds. Axel took the top bunk and I stayed in the bed with the landscape window, looking out on the moonscape, blissfully unaware of the news I was about to receive.

As I got sleepy, the phone rang.  It was Jon, calling from a 20 degree, hole-pocked fifth wheel with no power, huddled with cats for warmth.  He had picked up the fifth wheel from RV storage that morning, and despite the ice, he had made it out of the storage area safely.  Because he was bachelor-style he thought a Saturday disc golf tournament in Estacada, Oregon would be a great side-trip to make the most of his solo time.  He reserved a spot at Clackamas RV park for Friday night, not far from the tournament. That was when the real trouble started.

The road up to Clackamas RV park is steep and, as we know, the roads of Oregon were completely iced over.  Jon made the corner into the park and began to climb the hill. He passed through a gate and by two parked cars on his way up.  2% grade gives way to 5% grade and then 7% and maybe topping out at 10%.  The rig was not making it on the ice. Jon decided he must stop.  He stops, Briefly.  Then he starts moving again. Involuntarily.  Backwards.

The twenty-thousand pound rig slid down the hill. Toward the parked cars,  Toward the gate,  Jon manages to control the trailer, hitting neither car nor gate.  Knowing Jon, he was probably cool as a cucumber.  It might have all worked out, except, at the bottom of the hill there was a turn.  If he did not make the turn, it would not be good.  So he tried to steer the out-of-control rig around the corner, backwards, down hill, but to no avail.  The fifth wheel ended up lodged in a ditch, scraped on a tree, high-centered, and needing to be winched out.

Good thing we are heavily insured because the trailer suffered about 10k worth of damage. Thankfully, no one was hurt and no one else's property was damaged.  Whew!  Some samples of the damage:

This means we need a whole new roof.

The front corner where it twisted down on the tailgate, so hard the tailgate was bent shut.

Keep in mind, this was the news I received during a phone call, in the sleeper car.  I sat in the bottom bunk, silently freaking out, while Axel slept, blissfully unaware.  We did not wreck the car here, we wrecked our whole house. For several minutes I strained to avoid having a fit. It was not an, "I told you so" thing, it was all the risk and uncertainty of our adventure rising up to face me. Luckily, I had a bottle of wine in my suitcase.  I drank a large glass and eventually drifted back to sleep in the swaying of the train.

At about midnight I awoke again, blinking my eyes into the light of the moon. There, from the comfort of my pillow, I was amazed to find the hulking mass of a snow-covered Mt Shasta glowing back at me.  It was so big that it filled the whole window. And maybe it was the large glass of wine, but a great sense of warmth filled me. These things: the coziness of the small sleeping car, Axel breathing sweetly above me, and Mt. Shasta - a mountain I have stared at since childhood - a totem of permanence and stability - all these things comforted me as we journeyed further down the path of this surprising, scary, wonderful nomad life.