A Wild Ride in Wyoming

It was a bright, cold morning and the weather report ensured that the short drive to work would be interesting. Overnight, high winds had pushed deep snow into massive drifts and filled roadside ditches, leaving them indiscernible in the vast expanse of white. Such was the cost of living and working far from “civilization” on the edge of Interstate 80 in Wyoming.

As one of the technicians whose job required his skills and company-owned tools be available throughout the gas field and its supporting stations, one of Dale's perks was a company-owned, 4-wheel drive Suburban. He was more than happy to provide a ride to and from the nearby plant for two of the other technicians.

Debbie, the youngest and smallest of the technicians, had taken the center spot in the crowded bench seat and Bill, more hefty, manned the passenger side. This more than cozy arrangement was the only option, due to the lack of available rear seating. On the plus side, the truck's heater was blasting out plenty of warm air and the conversation was lively.

With the transfer case locked in, Dale had punched through the first huge drift at a modest pace, and the vehicle swung into a moderate fishtail, corrected easily with a nudge of the throttle. Laughing, Debbie said, “That was fun! Let's do it again!”

As fate would have it, there was another great drift dead ahead. The following morning, Dale was finally handed the requisition for new tires.