“When we come close to those things that break us down, we touch those things that also break us open. And in that breaking open, we uncover our true nature.”
~Wayne Muller

It was every single woman’s worst nightmare: midnight, a dead car on a deserted mountain two-lane road, no phone service, and freezing winds howling through a rocky gorge. Yes, that was me last Saturday night.

I know you readers out there in Bulletin land get a steady supply of my orange slice o’ life tales inspired by whatever happens ‘in the moment’: dropping hot pizza on the back steps, adopting another rescue pup, car troubles, ocean breezes, art, along what’s going on in town. In sharing my own trails, travails and tales, I hope to inspire and encourage you — this time in thinking about ‘what if.’ What if something really does happen — that thing we all dread?

I’d been down in South Carolina’s peaceful horse country for a lovely late-evening dinner party with friends. At night I’ll take the interstate up the mountain sometimes, but this time figured I’d be fine following a car-load of friends to Tryon where I waved good-bye and headed up the narrow winding two-lane. Passing the twin bridges, I felt the car lose power. Hmmmm. Pushing the gas pedal wasn’t working. Nothing. Dead car, in the road on a blind curve, no clearance on the side to roll back into. Trying in vain to restart the car, it was no-go. A bad dream!

Flashers on, muddling in the dark interior, I hunted the cell phone in my pocketbook, AAA card and glasses so I could see the phone and card, all the while anxiously watching behind me for lights. Would I be rammed? Of course, at that time of night, there was no traffic, but just the thought had me shaking. As did bitter cold. Clumsily punching AAA’s 1-800 number, 911, *HP, my son’s cell number got nothing: no service in the gorge. Walking up the freezing incline, a faint temporary bar showed,  enough to get AAA’s recorded message. Then the phone lost service … fingers shaking, I kept punching on and on: until by miracle reaching my son, enough to get him on his way.

During the long wait on that deserted silent road, I lost my initial fear and felt a sense of ‘this will be OK.’ The night was clear black velvet spangled by sparkling stars; the river rushing steadily alongside. Bone-chilling, but so vast and beautiful — I would have missed those moments otherwise. Finally, my son parked behind with warning lights, a lone passerby was good Samaritan and promised to call the highway patrol when he got up to town.

To make a long story short, the nice patrolman summoned AAA with a flat-bed trailer: he stayed  almost an hour on the scene with blue lights flashing. Never have I been so glad to have those blue lights behind me! It was after 3 a.m. before I crawled in the sack, with a feeling of gratitude of being safe and sound. As I lay there, it dawned on me that if I’d been on the interstate, it could have been disastrous: a suddenly-dead car in three lanes of speeding traffic? Ouch. It was bad enough that it happened where it did: but sometimes the universe looks out for us, whether we realize it or not.

After this tale, I encourage all  of you to have a little emergency kit: this could happen to any one. Have water. A blanket. Phone. Cables. A good working flashlight. A flare. A satellite phone! And the list goes on. Long ago, I used to carry an emergency kit that my dad had given me. Maybe it’s time to get another.