We could hear those words being said by Rod Serling as we drove up the highway from Barra De Navidad to Puerto Vallarta.
The top was down on the convertible as the weather was sunny and about 73 degrees. Then, rounding a curve, about 20 miles south of Puerto Vallarta, we suddenly saw this mass of gray up ahead. Sally figured it was a low cloud as the mountain tops were still in the sun. I thought that it was fog that just had not dissipated yet. Neither explanation made real sense as we were at sea level so a cloud would not be that low and, since it was 11 am, any fog should have disappeared earlier.
Approaching this gray material, it was like a solid wall with a distinct line where the sun came to an immediate end. The front of the car nearly disappeared while we were still enjoying the idyllic weather. Then, we were inside and felt as someone had opened a freezer door and put us into it.
The temperature gauge on the car fell the second we entered. But, it was an unusual drop because it never went down a degree at a time but always in two degree intervals. It was now 71 according to the gauge and about every eighth of a mile it fell another two degrees. It only moments, we had gone from riding two hours in the sun and heat to pulling over, putting the top up, and turning on the car’s heater. The outside temperature had fallen to 57.
I have lived from northern Canada to Florida and many places in between and am certainly used to experiencing cold fronts. But, never in my life had I actually seen the edge of one before. It was spooky and we imagined coming out of it and finding ourselves amid conquistadors with a Spanish Galleon anchored in the Bay of Banderas.