Winter of 1978

The original paved road to Snowmass from Highway 82 was a narrow two lane road.  Along most of the route up to the golf course there were fairly substantial ditches or drop-offs on both sides.  As you came out of the valley heading to the village the road curved and followed the side of the valley with the golf course to the south and the Snowmass Stables to the north.  Along this part of the road there were twelve foot ditches on both sides.

When the road was dry navigation up or down the valley was a simple affair but things changed dramatically in the winter especially after a snow storm.  The county did a great job of maintaining the road year round but even the best of plowing, scraping and a light dusting of
sand did little to reduce the slippery effects of the snow and ice.

A good friend of mine, John Braselton, and I spent the evening in town hanging with some other friends and by the time we realized it, the RFTA busses had stopped running to Snowmass for the evening.  With no alternative available, I agreed to give John a ride home despite the slick roads and freezing temperatures.  At the time I owned a 1957 Jeep CJ-3 with marginal tires and a very poor heating system.  Winter travel in this Jeep was always an adventure.

The trip up the valley was uneventful until we passed the Snowmass Stables.  Without warning, and no, it was not my fault; the Jeep began to spin 360s down the narrow road.  Luckily, no one was coming the other way.  After about three full rotations (pirouettes) the Jeep left the roadway and proceeded into the ditch.  Both of us were holding on for dear life and praying out load that the jeep would stay on its tires and not roll over.

We came to a stop at the bottom of the ditch in about two feet of snow which had plenty of mud buried underneath.  We both looked at each other with looks of amazement and a bit of lingering fear.  “What now” proclaimed John?  With any luck we could drive out of our predicament with the Stable’s road a few yards ahead of us.  It would give us a fighting chance.

That particular Jeep required a little extra effort to put it in four-wheel drive.  Now days you just shift the transmission into low but on the vehicles back then you had to climb out and lock the front wheels into four-wheel drive.  Each wheel had a knob on the hub that you had to turn to accomplish the task.  Unfortunately, it usually required the Jeep to move a few inches before locking the first wheel and additional moves before getting them both locked.  In this particular instance the Jeep would not budge and the rear wheel just spun in the mud.  After a few tries I was successful at getting them locked.  Without hesitation the Jeep began to move and in a matter of minutes we were back on the roadway.

The remaining journey up to John’s house was done in silence.  The trip home took twice as long as I approached every inch of the road as if it
were a sheet of ice coated in oil.  As I passed by the part where we performed our pirouettes I could clearly see the tracks in the road where we performed three complete, and perfect I might add, rotations and where we left the road.  Had it happened 10 feet sooner we would have been in a whole about 20 feet deep with a significantly different outcome.

The next day after our nerves had calmed back down we began to tell others of our misadventure and “near death” experience.