This one is actually a true story from my own experience. I've written it as if it were in a book, but everything here happened in real life, on November 5th, 2017.
We were picking up a pony.
That was the whole reason for this road trip. A week earlier we had made the same trip to the same place, but it was to trial the pony before we considered buying him. Timbit (then called Twilight)
had performed admirably despite the unexpected gale-force winds and hailstorm, and his level head and enormous talent had led us to decide that he was perfect for my nine year old sister.
The roads had been in excellent condition, dry and pleasantly warm for November.
But there had been a change in weather in the week that followed, and the Coquihalla had received a heavy snowfall a few days before our second trip.
Before I go any further, I want to make it clear that we had done our research. We tracked the weather, checked the highway cams, and made an informed decision.
For anyone who doesn't often drive in winter conditions and so may not understand what the risks are, I'll explain why you have to be so careful when driving in such conditions.
If it is actively snowing while you drive, the flakes swooping toward your windshield have a hypnotic effect that will take even the most experienced driver's eyes off the road without them even realizing it. Snow swirling across the asphalt has the same effect, drawing your eyes to the swirling, mesmerizing patterns on the road, and this can happen even on a clear day when it's not actually snowing.
Ice is one of the biggest problems. Sometimes its simply the result of water freezing on the road, sometimes its the result of packed snow generated by the snowplows. Whatever the cause, it makes for a nerve-wracking drive. Sanding trucks are often a common sight on northern roads in the winter, spreading a mix of sand and salt on the roads to help melt the ice and provide grip for tires.
And when you're driving on a mountain road with unpredictable weather, all these things get magnified significantly.
But on November 5th, the roads were actually pretty good. It had warmed up significantly, so the snow along the sides of the road was already melting. The sun shone brightly and turned our winter surroundings into a silver and white dreamland worthy of a movie set. We had left around 6:30 that morning, budgeting plenty of extra time so we could drive carefully and slowly if we needed to.
But so far it had been a breeze. The Coquihalla has a 24 kilometer stretch of highway that is equipped with variable speed signs, where sensors collect real-time data and calculate what is a safe speed to be traveling at that particular moment. The regular speed limit along that stretch is 120 kilometers an hour, but the signs will adjust if needed and drivers are required to slow to the speed posted.
And as we passed those signs they stated that 120 was the safe speed to be going.
But we had extra time and were towing a horse trailer, so the fastest we went on that drive was 80kmh. Why risk an accident?
About three hours into the drive, my siblings had all fallen asleep. The two youngest were in the back with me, and my parents and my other sister were in the front. Our red F350 had a crew cab, so while it wasn't exactly a luxury vehicle, it fit all of us in and it towed our three hauler horse trailer, so it served our needs just fine. It had previously been used as a railtruck, so the whole front end had been reinforced with steel plates. This is an important detail. You'll see why soon enough.
Mom was dozing, Dad was driving, and I was sitting behind Mom on the passenger side with my earbuds in. There's a stretch of road where the foothills and trees bordering the road give way to a stunning view of the valley below, and I remember that I was listening to "Best day of My Life' by American Authors. I had it synced up so that the chorus started just as we came out of the hills and to that amazing view. It was like something out of a movie, with that stunning visual paired with the music timing and the happy, content, hopeful feeling about the future I had in that moment.
Looking back, I now realize just how ironic that was.
We were just cresting the hill. The sun was shining, the snow was sparkling, and suddenly something seemed...off. I was looking out the rear passenger window, but I had the view of the front windshield.
We had hit black ice, and were now sliding sideways. I clearly remember exactly where I was in the song when I realized what was happening. The song was at 0:50. Remember this, because it is also important.
Shifting my gaze to the front, I saw the concrete barrier coming toward us at a speed that seemed slow, almost stately. Dad had had lots of experience with driving on ice; he had grown up in the prairies of Canada, after all. He was doing everything he could to avoid hitting, but when you're on black ice, you're helpless. Adrenaline and fear shot through me, and a million thoughts raced through my head. I knew we were going to crash. I knew that we had a lot of momentum, and since the truck was very front heavy (remember I said it had been a reinforced rail truck?), there was a high chance of our momentum causing us to flip over the barrier and slide off the road. And on the other side of the road, that beautiful view of the valley, was a three hundred foot cliff.
I remember that time seemed to slow down. I know it sounds corny, cliché and overused, but it's true that your perception of time passing changes in the face of something like this. I remember looking at my two younger siblings who were just starting to wake up and realize that something was wrong. I remember looking at my parents and my other sister in the front, and knowing full well that a collision with that barrier could easily crush their legs and trap them in the truck.
I remember wondering if this was the last time I would see them all alive, and wondering if we were all going to slide off the cliff to the rocks below in the next ten seconds.
I can honestly tell you that I have never been so paralyzed with fear, both for myself and for my family, than I was at that moment.
Then the right front corner of the truck hit the barrier with a crash that was immensely loud even through my earbuds. I lurched forward in my seat, feeling the full force of the impact. The truck was going about 75kmh when we hit. Now imagine taking a two ton vehicle traveling that fast and stopping it instantly. The truck and trailer jackknifed, and the trailer skidded around us. It had enough momentum to pull us away from the barricade and slingshot us back around and sideways across the lane. It's hard to describe what happened even with pictures, so I can't convey it all here. But just picture what happens if a car catches a corner while racing at full speed. It spins out. Now imagine doing that on ice, in a truck, with a trailer attached. Everything in the cab flew everywhere, the extra jackets on the floor, the phone at the end of the AUX cord, the box of muffins and the water bottles.
When the truck finally stopped spinning, there was smoke filling the cab and everything smelled like gunpowder. It was because the airbags had gone off, but in the heat of the moment my confused brain thought the truck was on fire. And exactly how many seconds had elapsed? 11.
The song was now at 1:01.
Everything that had happened, all the thoughts running through my head, the whole accident from start to finish had been eleven seconds long.
Someone was screaming. Pain or fear? I couldn't tell. Dad yelled, "Everyone out of the truck, NOW! NOW!"
We all scrambled out of the truck as fast as we could. Dad had to kick the door open because the front of the truck was so bent and crumpled that it was jammed shut. Outside it was sunny but cold,
hovering around -12 degrees Celcius. That's 10 Fahrenheit.
Snow was eight inches deep on the ground. Thank God we had all listened to Mom for once and actually kept our winter boots and jackets on instead of shedding them I the warm and comfortable interior of the truck.
As we all hurried across the road to the shoulder, we saw what Dad had seen, and the reason he had panicked and ordered us to get out of the wreck. A semi truck was just cresting the hill, and there was no guarantee that he could stop in time. Thankfully the driver saw the accident from a ways back, and slowed down well in advance. He actually parked his rig at an angle across the highway to protect us. We had blocked all lanes on our side, and one of the lanes on the other side. When we had hit, debris had flown everywhere, as far as ninety feet away in a few cases. The truck was completely written off, the front end completely smashed in. And the front of our trailer was crumpled like a tin can.
There were actually a few cases of irony here. One was the hopeful feeling I had about the future, right before we crashed. One was the fact that the same steel plates that made the truck so front heavy and so likely to flip had also protected us. No one in the front seat was injured; the reinforcement had prevented the barrier from shoving the engine into the cab. And the last one was the fact that the trailer had been the biggest reason Dad hadn't been able to avoid the crash, but it had also been the thing that prevented us from flipping. There were actually imprints of the back wheels on the front of the trailer, and they showed that the truck had in fact started to lift, but that the weight of the trailer had pulled the truck back down.
As our parents ran around collecting the debris and throwing it in the bed of the truck, the aftermath started to set in. My little brother was in mild shock, (as in very shaken up) but he was unhurt. My little sister was on her knees in the snow, yelling to the sky, "We could have diiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeed!!!!"
(no joke, she really was), but she was also unhurt. My other sister and I were fine. So were our parents. Amazingly, the worst injury sustained from a near-lethal crash was a pulled neck muscle for my dad, from tensing up right before impact. We were all weak kneed and on the verge of hyperventilating. We were scared and cold, and all we could think of was "What if? What if we had flipped? What if we had been going the speed limit, almost 50kmh faster than we were? What if we had hit harder? What if someone had ended up in the hospital, or worse? What if we had been on the way back, and had little Timbit in the trailer?"
I still have nightmares about that last one. The dividers in the trailer had been partially ripped of their hinges, and those things are built to withstand several thousand pounds of horse regularly leaning on the divider. The amount of force it takes to deal the damage the trailer sustained is immense. When I think about what we would have seen when we opened those doors...I shudder to think of the scene. Timbit wouldn't have survived. No question.
I won't tell you all the details of what happened after, because this post is to tell people what it feels like to be in a major crash. But I will tell you that the wreck closed the highway for several hours, and that there are now five new barricades where we hit. The old ones were too badly damaged and had to be replaced.
And I will say that I wasn't able to listen to "Best Day of My Life" for almost a year after without breaking into a cold sweat. To this day I still get a knot in my stomach and a faster pulse whenever I hear it. Another bit of irony, that this song was playing during one of the worst days of my life.
I hope this conveyed the sheer amount of emotion I felt, as well as given you an idea what its like.
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