What could be more terrifying than driving on Interstate-40 at sunup and having a blanket of fog suddenly engulf you? Not much that I can imagine.
That very thing happened to me last Saturday on the way to a writers’ workshop in Oak Ridge. It was to begin at 8:30 Eastern Time, so—being a resident of the Central Time zone–I arose long before dawn and departed home in the pitch-black dark. Even in daylight and good weather, I rarely make the journey from Cookeville to Monterey on the interstate. I prefer the slower and more scenic route up highway 70N before entering I-40 at mile marker 300.
I did that Saturday, hoping that when the sun rose it wouldn’t completely blind me. As the sky lightened, I was thrilled to see clouds. And traffic was light, thanks to the early hour and perhaps the fact that the Vols were playing in Starkville rather than Knoxville that afternoon.
Maybe this journey was going to be smooth sailing.
I climbed the Cumberland Plateau with no problem and stopped at Buc-ee’s for a quick bathroom break. Just beyond the Peavine Road exit, fog descended like a blanket. A heavy, thick blanket. I turned on my headlights. I turned on my flashers. I cut my speed as much as I thought prudent, but what’s prudent when there’s every chance you might crash into the vehicle ahead of you if you’re going too fast or the vehicle behind might crash into you if you’re going too slow?
White-knuckled, I made it to Crab Orchard and got off the interstate. Just a stone’s throw away is Highway 70, not to be confused with Highway 70N (more about that later), which winds its way east to Rockwood. It was the right choice. The fog wasn’t nearly as thick, the speed limit was lower and there were, thank goodness, zero eighteen-wheelers on the narrow curvy road.
At the junction with Highway 127, I turned north toward Rockwood. As if by magic, the fog disappeared. Yeah, but. Ten minutes later, when I reached the entrance to I-40, I could plainly see that the interstate was still fogged in. I was unwilling to chance it. So I continued on the backroads to Harriman and then Oliver Springs until I finally made it to Oak Ridge, arriving at the conference with just enough time to grab a cup of coffee and a ginger snap.
Seven hours later, I climbed back into my car under sunny skies. My plan was to take I-40 all the way home. I might even make it in time for kickoff. But the rain started while I was still in Anderson County. Torrential rain. Rain almost as blinding as the morning fog. A person would have to be crazy to get on the interstate in this kind of weather.
So back to Oliver Springs I went. Then Harriman. Then Rockwood and onto Highway 70, through Crab Orchard and on to Crossville, where things get a little tricky when you have to figure out how to get off 70 and onto 70N so as not to end up in Sparta. But I did figure it out and traveled all the way home that way.
(For readers not familiar with this part of the world, Highway 70 in Tennessee travels west to east all the way from the Arkansas line to North Carolina. But 70 and 70N diverge in Lebanon. 70N then winds its way 86 miles through Wilson, Smith, Putnam and Cumberland counties until it reaches Crossville, where it ends and you must get on regular 70 if you want to continue on the backroads.)
The happy news is that, though I didn’t make it home in time for kickoff, I was able to find the game on the radio, with Big Orange announcers who don’t even pretend to be objective. I love that.
The other good news is that Tennessee beat Mississippi State 41-34 in overtime.
(October 4, 2025)