Memorable incident

At fifty seven there are many years on which to look back upon, so the one memorable incident among thousands to reflect upon isn't too difficult which is why my first drive to Alaska in the middle of a December winter, a month after I was married, the same day my father-in-law died, seems a story worth telling.
It was December of 1974, and we were fully packed in the brand-new 1974 Ford F250 truck with a Max 7 camper top that was loaned to us by a Ford dealer who paid us to drive it to Alaska. The opportunity allowed us to move back to Alaska with all of our wedding gifts while helping the dealership bring one more car up the Alcan Highway to be sold. When we signed the contract in Detroit before our trip, we saw no problem in accomplishing this task; however, although we were shortsighted in perceiving the momentous task of driving 4800 miles in the winter when daylight was scarce and temperatures frigid, nothing could have dampened our expectations more than the two misfortunes we encountered on the first and second day of our glorious trip.
The morning of our departure came. We were excited to be going back to Alaska but also excited about the adventure of what lie before us as we traveled through the Canadian wilderness into Alaska. The truck was packed. As the passenger and second-hand driver, I had prepared my travel car bag full of everything I could possible need. Reading materials, crossword puzzles, a journal and my favorite music to keep me occupied when I was not behind the wheel. We had everything in place including Bubba, a nickname for our cock-a-poo, Pepper, who was situated comfortably in the space immediately behind the passenger seat, and my car, a 1972 Ford Pinto, which was attached by a tow bar to our bumper, behind the truck. To the best of our knowledge, the tow bar was a safe and secure means of towing a vehicle, but for an extra measure of protection a thick rope had been added as a back-up in case of a fundamental flaw in the mechanics of the tow bar. Excited and nervous, we said good-bye to our family and friends.
Glad to be one the road, but sad to be leaving people we knew we would not see for a very long time, we prolonged the moment until we finally left. Once on the road, I began to look at all of my belongings for something interesting to read or do, so I began to read. We were about an hour into the trip when I was startled by the sound of honking horns. Not one horn, not two or three, but the tune of many horns forced the both of us to look into the huge rear view mirrors on the side of the truck. I saw my Pinto suspended from a long rope weaving back and forth across the freeway. All other cars were honking and waving their hands in an effort to attract our attention. Slowly and steadily we finally secured the car off the road and into a relatively abandoned parking lot. The tow bar had bent the bumper and released the Pinto. The safeguard rope had prevented the car from wheeling out-of-control and perhaps hitting another automobile or hurting someone. We knew we were fortunate to have not been in an accident. That night we didn't get too far, and in fact, we made it to Coldwater Michigan,where we spent the night. Thus the first day of the trip was not part of our agenda.
This unfortunate incident forced a change of plans. Rather than having two drivers and one vehicle, we now had two vehicles that needed two drivers, which not only changed the ambiance of the trip, the leisure of reading and relaxing with the occasional company of conversation, but also the finances. We now had to drive separately and spend our money where it had not been designated on gas and car maintenance. I was now the driver of the Pinto. Keeping resolute, we attempted to follow our original plans with a few monetary changes. We left early the next morning in separate vehicles. In the small blue car, I and Bubba followed the F250 onto I94 heading West.
The day was bleak and cold. In fact, the sky was grey with temperatures just below freezing and the snow was blowing just enough to cover the road. The road was slick, so I held the steering wheel tightly with both hands. We had been driving steadily for about two hours when I suddenly felt my finger tips numbing and a general sick feeling of claustrophobia come over me. Maybe it was Pepper was breathing down my neck or the tiredness I felt from starring at the back of the truck for two hours, but whatever the reason. I decided to pass the Ford F250. I surmised that my feelings were directly related to his inability to move quicker through the traffic. I felt bottled in, so I put on my left blinker and moved into the next lane of the freeway. Cars were everywhere, so I knew I had to be careful, but the minute I started to accelerate. I realized the situation was more serious than I had anticipated. The car behind me was riding my bumper, so I pushed firmly down on the gas pedal. I moved along side the F250 until I finally passed it. Our eyes met for a quick second, but in that second I detected panic. With enough distance behind me, I turned on my turn signal to safely move in front of the F250, but unfortunately I hit an icy patch and went sailing across the road. In an instant, my car began to swerve uncontrollably. I was sliding across the expressway as cars behind me, before me, and next to me searched for ways to avoid a collision. Some cars slowed; some cars stopped, and some headed for the cement walls as a means of protection. As for me, I was now heading in the opposite direction--going East on I94 passionately pumping my brakes, but guess who was heading toward me face to face? The Ford F250.
As we hit each other, I remember seeing the look in his eyes as he desperately tried to avoid the impossible. We hit each other just hard enough to push each other to opposite sides of the expressway. Thankfully, no other cars were involved. but the F250's right headlight was smashed and the front bumper dented. The Pinto's right headlight was also smashed along with a huge area of the right bumper. No one was hurt. We starred at each other from across the highway. Meanwhile, commotion unleashed itself. We not only had interrupted traffic just outside Gary Indiana at rush hour on the second day of our trip, but we could no longer drive at night since either of us were missing a headlight. Thus the second day of the trip warranted another change of plans.