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  • Looking across the bay I observe the road that scars the mountain. I remember drives in snow when avalanches would fall and so easy to drive off the slippery road. But I was never really afraid. On the road it didn't seem so scary, but for one trip during summer.

    The fog was so thick I never saw the road but continued driving. When I felt that the car was going off I backed and tried another direction. My heart was banking, I tried not to look in the rear window and tried to continue hoping that I was on the road and the fog would lift off. The fear was consuming all my energy.

    Alone in the car there was no way but to continue or stop. If someone would have been with me they could have walked in front of the car to show me the direction. But I was alone.

    I couldn't stop. I had to continue. It was the most important thing in my life.

    The fear was not about driving of the road and die horrible death, not at all!

    I wasn't late for anything.

    It was about old stories that a ghost could suddenly appear in the back seat. I was 17 and found it more likely to have a horrifying ghost in the car than drive off road.

    Never did it occur to me that over 30 years later I would look at the road and laugh about my fear of the ghost but shudder remembering that I drove in the dark fog.
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