I've lost track of the number of times my bride got me, truck, trailer and very expensive race car home late at night and sometimes hundreds of miles after a day of racing and a lot of drinking. She would only squawk about going over bridges. Especially the one over the Mississippi from West Baton Rouge to East Baton Rouge. Somehow always got my stupid *** and expensive stuff home safe. Lots of times from Bristol all the way to NY. Oh well, just another memory now. Once she drove my truck down the Alcan when it was still gravel, in the winter time and white out conditions, with me following in our Lincoln. By the time we got to Seattle her hands were bleeding from clutching onto the wheel so hard.