It was a dark and stormy night oh wait, no it wasn't.
It was a dark and foggy night as my editor, a friend and myself travelled the long and meandering road to Fort St. John to see a pre-show of Chicago put on by the Stage North Theatre Society.
We left promptly at 6:15 p.m. to ensure enough time to get there safely and in time for the curtain to rise at 7:30.
Near Farmington was when the eerie - albeit fitting for the season - wisps of mist settled into the fields and gracefully passed over the highway.
I was on deer patrol as my editor-driver focused on watching the white and yellow road lines to ensure we kept between them.
Travelling behind another pickup truck so we could follow its rear lights, we knew that if it found its way over a cliff, so too would we.
Driving above the town of Taylor the vapors disappeared, only to descend upon us again as we gained ground to our destination.
Once there, we slowly drove through the thick fog down 100 Street anticipating any pedestrians that might jump out into traffic, or traffic lights that would pop out of nowhere. We found where we needed to be and quickly found parking, but not before getting a severe honking to for driving in the middle to two lanes not that the driver could tell where the lanes were.
Safe at last we settled in to enjoy the show.
All that jazz later, we once again hit the road for the long journey home. If possible, the fog was denser than before. I had never seen such a sight. It was kind of mystical.
Again, we slowly made our way down the street towards the highway. Not realizing we were already at said intersection, the driver, positioned in the straight lane turned the truck into the turning lane and put her clicker on.
The light turned green and she proceeded to turn left onto the highway. We didn't see the minivan coming straight at us. Luckily the minivan wasn't cocky either and was driving slow enough for us to keep turning and miss the impending t-bone hit.
Homeward bound, we soon realized there were no other vehicles to follow. No other red lights to guide us home. We were on our own.
Then out of nowhere an SUV appears alongside us. As soon as they pass, we get behind them and breathe a sigh of relief.
The reprieve lasted only minutes before the SUV turned off the road.
We continue cautiously at an easy 50 km per hour only able to see 10 feet in front of us. We all remain alert for any animals that may have decided to end their life by jumping into the thick haze that enveloped the highway.
We relax when we can clearly see the road before us, only to hold our breath again when the no longer mystical fog swooped in. We continued this rollercoaster of relaxation and stress as we plunged in and out of the unnerving mist.
Oncoming semis seemed confident as they whizzed by us and at one point a little sedan passed us and zoomed off into the ends of the earth never to be seen again.
Finally recognizing the Farmington store landmark we loosen up a bit knowing how close to home we are.
Aware that danger still lurked in the form of four-legged, gangly creatures I remained on alert.
The fog quickly dissipated into nothingness and we soon pulled into the driveway.
"We made it!" declared my editor as her white knuckles flushed back to pink. I have a feeling I'll be driving next time.