20 MILES TO STURGEON BAY (OR, I’VE ALWAYS WANTED TO USE THE LINE, “IT WAS A DARK AND STORMY NIGHT...”)

and there I was wrestling a five ton truck
with a fifteen foot trailer (and both packed tight,
top to back) down a twisting two-lane coastal road
(with no signs, stops or shoulders) up there
on that skinny Wisconsin peninsula
that pokes so broken pinky-like out into
the black and briny void of Lake Michigan.
But at least it was relatively warm and dry
inside the cab though my partner and I
were still a bit shaken and chilled to the marrow
of our respective bones by the over-all unnerving
if not full-on traumatizing work conditions
we were then currently experiencing-
meaning the absolutely unrelenting
storybook/Hollywood-style thunder and lightning
and rain (with the occasional visitation of hail,
now and again,) and damn-near zero
visibility beyond the headlight’s anemic
glow on the slick, hairpin curvature
of the road ahead and of course the odd moment
of HOLY CRAP WE’RE GONNA DIE!
But hey, at least we’ve got half a tank of gas,
half a bag of giant pretzel sticks,
a couple cans of some psychotic energy drink
rolling around somewhere in here,
and ZZ Top’s “Cheap Sunglasses”
is just now coming on the radio
and the sign by the side of the road
says:“20 Miles to Sturgeon Bay”
and it looks like we just might
make last call with
time to spare.

-Jason Ryberg, 2010