BY ACCIDENT
Yep, it was an accident. We were looking for a new highway that had been built to cut across from I-70 to Central City, and when we saw the sign with an arrow to Central City, we went that way. It was strange that it was a gravel road, but maybe they didn’t have it completed at the bottom yet. However, after a mile, it was still gravel and getting narrower and progressively higher. Since it was now barely over one lane in width, I didn’t think I could turn around even though I came across a couple driveways. It seemed incomprehensible that there was much farther to go.
Oh, how wrong I was. That small gravel road went onward another couple miles, increasing in altitude and narrowness until my trepidations turned into downright panic and fearful anxiety. My breathing was rapid, my heart rate was elevated. And I began praying, “Oh, please, let this road reach its summit around this next corner”. But no, that corner lead to another long incline, which lead to another corner, which lead to another long incline, and on it went.
My husband, looking puzzled, told me to stop so he could get out. I pleaded with him not to walk to the edge and look over. Certainly it was a sheer drop and he would be in tremendous peril. But to my dismay, he insisted to the point that I pressed the brake completely. Since I was only traveling at an estimated 2 mph, it wasn’t a hard stop.
He opened the door and I squeezed my eyes tightly shut begging him not to walk to the edge.
He did. And he stood there for a bit.
I tried to breathe. But all I could do was pray harder and beg with all my heart that God would find the top of this forsaken mountain and let me step out onto a meadow that wasn’t hanging over a precipice. However, that didn’t happen. The road continued.
My husband had gotten back into the car and declared what an awesome view it had been and that the town below now looked like a tiny speck. It didn’t help me one bit. And he said that I should keep driving.
On the next incline we met a car coming down. I was in the center of the road. My husband admonished me to get over and give the man some room. To which I replied, “LET HIM CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN, I’M NOT GETTING OVER!”
He laughed, gently of course, but none the less it was a laugh. Then he waved at the poor gentleman in the other car who nearly sideswiped the rocks on his right side since I gave him no berth. My husband offered to drive, to which I replied that I would have to get out and walk. There was no answer for the dilemma.
So, I prayed HARD and continued driving at 2 mph. Amazingly in the midst of my terror I heard HIS quiet voice tell me “Simply keep your eyes on the road ahead and keep trusting ME.” And that is what I did. I stared into the gravel on the road as though I would burn holes into it. And I kept moving at a snail’s pace.
The top did come. And when we rounded the corner to reveal it, I never thought I would ever feel that kind of relief ever again. I breathed. I breathed like a person who’d been starved for air. I gulped it in and thanked God profusely and loudly.
We were there. And Central City was only a few blocks away. In my fresh memory of terror I sought the street sign at the next corner to know the name of this hell’s highway I had just traversed. And there it was in clear black and white. It had been named “Oh My God Road”!