Back in 1987 I was put on orders to be posted at Augsburg, Germany, which is in the south of Germany between Stuttgart and Munich. I arrived in country in November. My car arrived at the Port of Bremerhaven in December. So, I had to take a train up there to fetch my car. I left Bremerhaven at 6PM for an eight hour drive, arriving back in Augsburg at 2AM. It was black ice in the dark the entire drive home, mostly on back roads. Slid off the road twice. Most harrowing drive I ever made.
Whoa, Big-- My "Most harrowing drive I ever made" did not have any ice at all. It had just plain old sand. Blowing by the wind like a house a fire sand!
In May of 1971 I was driving back by myself from a trip to Hollywood and on that bright, sun-shinny day I decided to take the scenic southern route back to Texas by taking California Highway 111 south off of I-10 just outside Indio, east of Los Angeles. It would take me down to Calexico and from there I could skirt the Mexican border before going into Arizona and then bend back north to meet T-10 again at Tucson.
BIG MISTAKE!!!
I traveled down by the south shore of the Salton Sea off to my left and unknowingly direct into a sand storm. There I was in my 1966 Mustang Fastback on a two lane road when the wind started blowing some sand, so I slowed down, then more sand so I slowed more, then ever MORE sand as I slowed and slowed-- Finally it was blowing so hard it was damn near a full brownout. All I could see was down to my left I could just make out my driver's side window the stripe in the middle of the road. I was afraid to stop on the road and get run into or pull off the road 'cause I could not see where the hell off the road was and I was scared silly to keep on going as I could not see past my hood and could plow wight into the back end of anyone who happened to be ahead.
So I opted to keep going at a crawl while praying to High Heaven.
For the next 10, 20, maybe 30 minutes??? It seemed like half my life-- Yet I kept on crawling forward in my Mustang and praying at light speed.
Well, it worked and the sand storm blew itself out and I do believe I lost a good twenty pound sweating out that sand storm ride.
However, I did drink twenty pounds back that night by staying in Calexico and hitting the fleshpots in Mexicali. Now remember in those days, it was very different going into Mexico for fun and frolic.
;^) is all I'll say about that night--
Gadzooks, just writing that has me wore out--
But it is a GOOD wore out.
Okay, I am sure some FReeper will have a better sand story but I'm sticking with mine because I WAS THERE!