Way, Way Too Close

Driving in to work this morning, the roads were great. Almost all the way.

Coming off I-435 onto Wornall, I was probably going 50 mph or so as I started down the ramp. The roads were all treated and running free and clear, after all, and I got lulled into thinking it was clear sailing.

Then, I realized my breaks weren't doing anything. At all. There were three cars already knocked into each other at the bottom of the ramp, another in the grass to the left spinning its wheels in the snow, another up on the triangular island between the left turn and right turn lanes.

I downshifted, continued to try the brakes, managed to cut my speed some and convince my tires to grab enough to get me pointed at a gap where there weren't any cars. By the time I got to Wornall itself, I was headed south instead of north, but I hadn't hit anything and the way was clear.

I'm sure it was just that the ramp hadn't been hit with salt as recently as everything else, because Wornall itself was fine.

After getting turned around and heading toward work, hoping my heart would descend from its hiding place in my throat, where it was pounding away, I saw another car turning sideways as it came down the ramp, wheels locked.