Jordan Rossi's Journal

If your friend says, “Let’s take a shortcut. It’ll be quicker” don’t believe them.

In April of my international study year, while I was attending the University of New Mexico, my friend, who lived in the dorm next door, suggested we drive from Albuquerque to Phoenix, Arizona for his birthday to catch a baseball game. He quickly backtracked on his offhand suggestion citing difficult logistics. Always craving a new adventure, I pressed him proposing that if he drove I’d buy the game tickets. He didn’t take much convincing.

We set off on a hot spring morning wearing shorts, sandals and t-shirts on what we expected to be a six to eight hour drive. Upon reaching the state border we stopped for gas and consulted our map. Having just been stung by high gas prices the idea of a shortcut seemed sensible for two broke college students.

Continuing on the skies began to darken. Angry clouds bore down upon us. The sunny humidity turned cold and it began to drizzle. Delving further into the heart of the Arizona darkness the drizzle began to stick. It wasn’t rain but light sleet. Taking the next exit to refuel we stumbled upon a mountain town in the midst of a snowstorm, complete with snow covered cacti. We had stepped back into December with all the locals dressed in heavy winter gear.

After refuelling we found ourselves crawling along an icy path en route to Phoenix. It was populated by cars and trucks all of which were comfortable in these weathered conditions. Not us New Mexico boys. Soon vehicles began overtaking us spraying ice at our windshield. With the wipers working overtime uneasiness crept into the car.

A pickup truck swerved in front of us. We slammed our breaks to avoid it causing us to skid across the ice. We slid into the opposing lane, in between two cars, and crashed into a bank of snow on the other side.

Thankfully we, and the car, came away unscathed. It wasn’t long before the Sheriff of the town arrived in his pickup truck to assist us. We hooked a rope from his truck to our car. My friend climbed in, ready to drive, while I waited in the biting cold. As the Sheriff revved his engine the rope fell off. So I dug down deep into the snow, on my hands and knees, still in shorts and sandals, and tied the rope back on. The Sheriff pulled us out and on we went once more.

As we headed towards Phoenix two things were clear. One, I’d almost died to watch a baseball game. Two, if your friend wants to take a shortcut, do it. It’s worth the experience.