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It was December, 1990, and America was in the middle of the Desert Storm War. Our economy was on the slide with negative ramifications for the housing market. We all know that "timing is everything" in life", but a new job beckoned my husband in Las Vegas, so why should we let bad timing stop us?

First Sign of Trouble: The U-Haul that my husband figured would handle the job turned out to be too small. Our helpful friends became recipients of items that we had previously expected to take with us, and that we knew we would have to replace.

Since it was December 26th, and the winter weather was particularly severe that year around the country, we opted to take what is called the "Southern Route" from Lancaster, PA to Las Vegas, NV, in order to increase our chances of avoiding bad weather. Or, so we thought.

Second Sign of Trouble: No sooner did we pass over the Mason-Dixon Line into Maryland when it began to snow. The snow continued lightly as we headed into the mountains of Virginia where the snow intensified with limited visibility. It was then that we realized the benefits of driving a heavy, packed-to-the-hilt truck. Because of the weight, we managed to stay on the road while cars were slipping and sliding all around us. That night, the snow turned into sleet.

Third Sign of Trouble: After cracking the ice on the truck windshield with an assortment of objects not designed for this purpose, we managed to get on the road. The weather for the entire day was a mixture of sleet and rain even as we came to our second stop in Arkansas. That night, the temperatures dropped, and we awoke to six inches of snow on the ground and a blizzard ragging outside. The Highway Patrol advised everyone to remain off the Interstates. Our room was in a basic Holiday Inn that, apparently, wasn't accustomed to providing heat to its customers during a blizzard. We were freezing!

My husband could think of only one thing, getting out of that uncomfortable room and on the road. At least our truck had an adequate heater. Naturally, we had one of those marital disagreements concerning judgment-in this case, my husband's lack of it-but off we went anyway. There was no one on the road except a few other daring, 4-wheel drive trucks. The frozen ruts in the road were six inches high, and with the weight of our truck, we had no problem staying on course. More the problem was seeing out the windshield through the blizzard, but this did not deter my focused husband. When he realized that the truck

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