10 Miles Outside Fallon

stories that need to be told

A young Noel, Cowboy roping the moon

Drop the Reins

A Story of 10 miles Outside of Fallon, Nevada | On the Night of July 31, 2016.

The night sky turned to ink black and only the headlights of the truck thinly pierced the darkness. The white broken lines of the road paint seemed brighter than usual and flew past like a blur of dots as we sped on the desert highway from Barstow, California traveling to Fallon, Nevada. The paved terrain was smooth, freshly tarred, and we climbed as the elevation lifted us from the flat desert floor up a pass. My father and I drove through the night conversing now and then, enjoying the comfortable company of one another. We had come from Escondido, California traveling to Boise, Idaho which would be his new home with me.

It was a deep, quiet, desert night on a single lane two-way highway. The descent began from the mountain pass when all hell broke loose. The trailer in-tow blew a tire and threw the truck traveling 75 mph and its occupants into a careening maelstrom down the mountain pass.

My 82 year-old father, old-time cowboy and retired truckdriver, struggled to keep his grip on the steering wheel as we used the entire two lane highway, from one side of the road to the other as wide berth to swerve and maintain control in order to keep from going over the steep edges on either side. Our fellow caravanners, driving a compact car, had long since passed us. Frustrated by our slower speed, my daughter and son-in-law had sped on toward Fallon. We faced this new situation on our own and seemingly, completely helpless.

The rim of the rear wheel contacting the road pavement created such a broad trail of bright sparks into the dark night that we seemed to be on fire. My father doggedly fought to maintain control of the truck, to not cause a spin, or to jack-knife and a roll.

I remember calling out to him, 'Dad?” but the noise was so deafening from the trailer pulling the truck into its swerving motion, again I cried out, “Dad??” wanting to throw myself into the driver's seat and make sure the steering wheel would not break loose from his grip. Honestly, my life did start to flash before my eyes, but I shut the visual off and immediately started talking to God, praying aloud. I was amazed that my life would end this way. It didn’t feel like this was the right time. I could not make sense of this chaotic scene so inside I asked God to help me understand.

It seemed like time slowed down and we were in slow motion. Every detail of each moment and every second of time had definition. We traveled, continuing the wild swerving and burning rubber, my father applying the vehicle breaks intermittently perhaps a full mile until the vehicle came to a stop on the right side of the road.

Because of the careening motion and unnatural steering motion, the truck power actually turned itself off, an emergency precautionary feature – in case we were submerged in water. So, we were left on the narrow desert highway road in complete blackness and stillness.

Deafening quiet. Only the smell of burnt tire rubber and hot steel stayed in the night air as a reminder of what had just happened. We sat, frozen in our seats. Then simultaneously, we both opened our doors and stepped out of the truck.

If I had stepped on a rattlesnake getting out to walk over to my Dad and gotten bit- I would have bitten the snake back. (Adrenaline talking).

After a long 15 minutes, the truck battery power turned back on and our flasher lights indicated we were pulled over on the road which had no shoulder area. We waved down a lone trucker which approached, but he spoke only Spanish and we didn't. He continued on, but we felt better for having met another human in the lonely, black desert expanse.

God became very real. There is no explanation to account for my father and I coming safely to a stop, uninjured, from the speed of travel and the violent careening and swerving path of the truck and trailer down the mountain slope.

I remember the night air having unusual visual clarity. We were safe. We had escaped certain injury or worse, death. We knew we had experienced something very unique, and something extraordinary. We shared with one another the other times in our lives when God had shown up miraculously. We had another story to tell now.

God became very real to us that night on the desert highway to Fallon, Nevada.

When God becomes real. These are the stories to be shared.