Barksdale and the Icy Bridge
Tales of driving with Barksdale reminded me of a few stories. Scott was dating Jeannie, who was at Green Mountain, and that brought him and his car into contact with the back roads of New England. I remember two great stories he told us after dates with her. Here is the first one
Barksdale was from the South, not the really Deep South, but far enough away that he had no experience with New England winters. Unlike his roommates who learned to drive in snow and, from personal, practical, frightening experience, knew what to do when your car was slipping on ice. Scott had to face the challenges of a winter snowstorm without prior training.
One night, after a lovely evening, I am sure, with Jeannie, his girlfriend from Green Mountain College in Poultney, Vermont, Scott found himself driving in a persistent rain. It wasn’t snowing, although the temperature had been hovering at the freezing point all day long. I am sure that he probably passed one or more of those New England signs: “Caution - Bridge Freezes Before Road.” They are everywhere. But for Scott, they were just another Northern state curiosity.
Coming down a steep hill into a river valley, he saw a long straight bridge ahead with a single car creeping along at well below the speed limit. There was no one else in sight. The road over the bridge was straight and clear. As he crossed the threshold of the bridge he pulled to the side to pass them.
The next few seconds were highly memorable for everybody, perhaps especially for the elderly couple in the other car. Scott’s car immediately lost its grip on the road and very slowly rotated until it was sliding sideways along in the passing lane. As he rapidly but smoothly passed the old folks, his headlights shined in through their driver's side windows, and Scott reported their expressions as “colorful.”
His car continued to gently rotate and was soon past them, proceeding at the original speed, but backwards. His headlights now blasted through the windshield of the other car. He reported a remarkable change in their expressions, but later agreed that they kept their cool and did not apply their brakes on the icy bridge.
Luck was often with Scott, and his car continued its graceful rotation until it arrived at the far end of the bridge and the last of the ice. He too, had not applied his breaks or spun the wheel, or for that matter done anything at all. Still at the original speed, his wheels now facing forward, and now back on unfrozen asphalt, Scott simply drove back to Yale.
