Pit Stop

Maggie flipped on her directional and checked her blind spot before changing lanes. Settling into the driver's seat, she tried to ignore the loose spring in the cushion that poked her in the back. It had taken 100 miles for her to adjust to driving the big moving truck, but now she felt like a pro. Rumbling over the bridge that stretched across the expanse of the Colorado River, Maggie reached over and fiddled with the dial on the radio. Only static. I guess no radio waves can reach the bottom of this canyon, Maggie thought to herself before turning off the white noise.

The spring morning had started out chilly. After Maggie had checked out of the hotel in Grand Junction, she had found herself scraping frost off the truck's windows with her credit card. Now, several hours later, the day had heated up and she was grateful for the air conditioning blowing frosty air into the stuffy cab. A few more miles down the road and a fine drizzle misted the windows of the truck. Maggie turned on the wipers as the drizzle became a deluge. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth across the glass making a squeaking sound that made Maggie grimace with each pass. She gripped the steering wheel and leaned forward, peering through the downpour as the interstate slipped past.

Around another turn in the highway and the rain suddenly stopped. The piercing blue sky was blinding after the gray storm. The squeak of the wipes across the dry windshield produced a mewling protest from where Phoebe sat, perched in the passenger seat. "Sorry, old girl," Maggie said, scratching the cat behind the ears. "The weather changes fast here in the Rocky Mountains." She flipped off the wipers and tried the radio again. A country-western song belted out of the speakers and Maggie hummed along, joining in when she knew the words.

The next road sign informed Maggie they were 140 miles from Denver. "That means we should arrive about four o'clock. I'll call Steve in a bit and let him know we're on schedule. I can't wait to see the new house, can you? New house, new job, new start, eh, Phoebe? So exciting!" Phoebe answered with a rumbling purr.

Thirty minutes later, Maggie was surprised to find white fluffy flakes falling from the sky. The clouds overhead were dark and hid the mountaintops. Soon snow was falling steadily and visibility worsened. Maggie turned on the headlights and slowed down, feeling the slip and slide of the tires in the slush. How many seasons can you have in one day? Colorado is crazy, Maggie mumbled to herself as she let a truck pass her.

"There's an idea," Maggie laughed, pointing to the passing vehicle. An oversized sign with the word, "coffee" was strapped to the bed of the truck. "How do you feel about a pit stop, Phoebe? We'll let this storm roll by and I'll call Steve to let him know we'll be a little later.  But better late, than never, right?"

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Linking up this week with Writings and Ruminations. 500 words inspired by the pictures above...and the random weather of my home state of Colorado. Yes, it snows in June.