Highway driving in the fog is strange -- disorienting, isolating, paranoiac. Where am I? Where are these yellow lines coming from? And my Friday night drive from Wausau to Bloomington, Ill., was bathed in fog the whole way, more than six hours, leaving me filled with a sense of jittery anxiety that lingers even today.
Fog forms when warm air sweeps over cold ground. On my trip, that meant there was at least light fog all over -- but the magic ratio of warm-air/cold-ground was in northern Illinois, where it was thick as pudding, opaque, 45 mph on the Interstate, god-I-hope-no-car-is-stopped-in-front-of-me-with-its-lights-off kind of fog. However: None were. No monsters appeared before me. Eventually the yellow lines gave way to my Interstate exit, and at my parents' house I cleared my head with strong drink.
(Crossposted from What's Your Beef.)