No Regrets

If you haven't read my previous post, that's quite alright, but you might scroll down a bit and take a look at what I chose for a title to that post before reading my commentary this time.....wait! On second thought, maybe you should check out that title after reading the following story. I'm guessing you'll fill your pants either way, but waiting might help you fill them a bit fuller. Which, of course, is what I aim to achieve. So, here goes....

A friend and I hit the road Friday afternoon traveling due North, bound for the fine city of Sioux Falls, SD, for a shooter's school for pyrotechnics. We were very much looking forward to the opportunity to get away for awhile, make some contacts, and hopefully learn a few things we didn't already know with regards to the fine art of professional fireworks. Of course, Old Man Winter was still having a very hard time letting go, as is typically the case during a mid-West April. We fluctuate between winter and spring all month long, and this weekend seemed to favor winter. After checking the weather forecast, I packed accordingly and was prepared for a chilly weekend.

During our three-hour trek, my friend and I found ourselves engaged in a philosophical discussion on how precious life is, and how we tend to take it for granted all too often. We both have the same basic goal, that being not to take any regrets with us when our time comes. I came to the realization years ago that the only guarantee we have in this life is that we will die. And since we have no clue when that time might come, we had better make the most of the days with which we have been blessed. The discussion unfolded from there as we talked about goals and aspirations, achievements and failures. We've all had these types of discussions in the past, I'm quite sure, but they never seem to get old.

On the heels of this discussion we found ourselves driving into what was becoming a bit of a snowstorm. Now, mind you, I am from Nebraska and have driven through my share of pretty nasty winter weather. This particular storm was nothing, comparatively speaking. As we approached Sioux Falls, however, it seemed to be getting a bit worse. Even so, it certainly wasn't anything to write home about. At least not until after we had encountered, "the bridge."

Before I continue, allow me to sidetrack a bit: You know those annoying little signs they always post right before bridges warning you that the bridge may be icy? "CAUTION: BRIDGE MAY BE ICY." Even in the dead of August when it's 10,000 degrees outside, those stupid signs are still there. "CAUTION: BRIDGE MAY BE ICY" Hello? Roads department? Have you noticed how frickin' hot it is out here?? Could ya maybe consider taking down your god damn sign until it's really necessary? But I digress...you see, because those signs are up all year, I have come to the point that I don't necessarily pay attention to them anymore. I know they are there, but I rarely consider what they have to say might actually be true.

Back to "the bridge." We began to ascend toward the peak of a bridge, and as we crossed the actual bridge, I began to realize I had lost all control of the truck and we were sliding at 75 mph. In a fraction of a second, many thoughts went through my mind, including a recap of the discussion we had just entertained ourselves with for an hour. My natural instincts to over-correct the steering wheel kicked in, and I began to turn the wheel in the direction I felt it needed to go. I then realized (still within this fraction of a second, mind you) that if we hit the dry pavement with my wheels cranked as they were, we would most-certainly roll, and who knows if we would survive. So, I began to steer the wheel back a bit in the hopes of saving the spin once we hit the dry pavement.

We were sliding closer and closer to the median, and quite honestly, I had no clue how this was going to end. At some point during the split second we were out-of-control, I remember thinking we would be fortunate if all we did was end up in the median. I knew, even after correcting myself with the wheels, that rolling was a distinct possibility. Amazing what the mind can process in a such a brief moment of time. Somehow, someway, we fishtailed a bit after we got past the ice and ended up in the same direction we started in, and on all four tires. No harm, no foul. Shaken? You bet. Pale? Absolutely. Lucky? Without a doubt.

Now I don't know if this whole incident was meant to happen in order to reinforce to myself my own preaching, but the timing of it all sure seems sensational. I am thankful to have been blessed with life, I am thankful for having survived our South Dakota bridge incident, and I will go forward from here with an even greater appreciation. Oh, and I will damn hard to take no regrets to my grave.

Peace.