Rest stopTHE SNOW HAS BEEN BUILDING UP, GRADUALLY, FROM A SOFT AND pleasant fall for the coming holidays, into a growing drift, into what the man on the radio says will be a blizzard in no time.
I’m still far from the city and miles away from the next town. There’s a rest stop a couple hundred yards ahead. I take the turnoff and park the truck under a tree.
The rest stop offers everything I could possibly need. There’s a small gas station, a bank of restrooms, a cafe and a grocery store. During easier weather it would be run over with Range Rovers or compact German SUVs, top-heavy with luggage and skiing equipment. Today there are only two or three other cars in the parking lot, each of them growing a mantle of snow.
I let the engine and the heater run while I double-lace my shoes and p
