Highway 93 is a beast. Anyone who has driven the stretch from the Arizona border up through the jagged peaks of Montana knows exactly what I’m talking about. It’s beautiful, sure, but it’s also one of the most unforgiving ribbons of asphalt in North America. When word starts spreading about a crash on Hwy 93, locals usually don't ask "if" it was bad—they ask "where" it happened.
The truth is, this highway isn't just one road. It’s a collection of high-speed rural sections, narrow mountain passes, and congested tourist corridors that create a perfect storm for accidents.
The Anatomy of the Latest Incident
It happened fast. One minute the flow of traffic was steady, and the next, emergency lights were reflecting off the canyon walls. According to the Montana Department of Transportation and local highway patrol reports, the recent crash on Hwy 93 involved multiple vehicles near the Evaro Hill summit. This specific area is notorious for black ice and sudden visibility drops.
Witnesses described a scene that has become far too common: a heavy-duty pickup truck losing traction on a sweeping curve, crossing the center line, and clipping an oncoming SUV.
Physics is a jerk. When you’ve got two vehicles traveling at 65 miles per hour in opposite directions, the closing speed is 130. There isn't much room for error there. Emergency crews had to use hydraulic extraction tools—the "Jaws of Life"—to get a passenger out of the wreckage. Traffic backed up for miles, leaving hundreds of drivers idling in the cold while investigators mapped the scene. Honestly, it’s a miracle the injuries weren’t more severe given the impact force.
Why Hwy 93 is a Statistical Nightmare
You might wonder why we hear about these wrecks so often. It’s not just bad luck.
If you look at data from the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration (NHTSA), rural two-lane highways like 93 have significantly higher fatality rates than urban interstates. Why? Because there's no median. There is literally nothing but a double yellow line separating you from a head-on collision.
The "Canal Flats" section in British Columbia and the "Wickenburg to Kingman" stretch in Arizona are equally deadly for different reasons. In Arizona, it’s the heat and the blinding sun glare. In the north, it’s the wildlife.
- Deer and Elk: They don't check for mirrors. A 600-pound elk hitting a windshield at highway speeds is basically a localized explosion.
- Variable Weather: You can start a drive in 40-degree rain and hit a wall of snow five miles up the pass.
- Tourists vs. Locals: You have people who have driven the road 1,000 times trying to pass tourists who are staring at the scenery. That speed differential kills.
Breaking Down the "Deadly" Reputation
Is it actually the most dangerous road in America? Some years, organizations like ValuePenguin and Geotab rank it in the top ten. They look at "fatal crashes per mile." But rankings are kinda subjective.
What isn't subjective is the terrain. Take the stretch between Missoula and Polson. It’s been undergoing massive construction for years to add "wildlife crossings"—those big grassy bridges you see over the road. These actually work. The Confederated Salish and Kootenai Tribes were instrumental in getting these built. Since their installation, animal-related crashes in those specific zones have dropped by over 80%.
But the road is still narrow. It’s still winding. And people still drive like they’re on a closed track.
The Human Factor Nobody Wants to Admit
We talk about road conditions and lighting, but let's be real: it’s usually us. Distracted driving on long, scenic stretches is a massive problem. You’re looking at the mountains, you’re checking your GPS, or you’re trying to find a radio station that isn't just static.
In the recent crash on Hwy 93, investigators are looking into whether cell phone use played a role. It takes about two seconds of looking down to drift three feet. On 93, three feet is the difference between staying in your lane and a head-on collision.
Then there’s the "Get-There-Itis." People are trying to get to Glacier National Park or the Grand Canyon. They’re tired. They’ve been driving for eight hours. Their reaction times are shot. Fatigue is basically the same as being tipsy behind the wheel, yet we don't treat it with the same stigma.
What Happens After the Sirens Fade?
The cleanup from a major accident is a massive logistical headache. It’s not just towing cars. Hazardous materials—oil, coolant, fuel—have to be scrubbed so they don't leach into nearby watersheds like the Flathead River.
The legal fallout can last years. Insurance companies go to war over "point of impact" data and "black box" telemetry from the vehicles. If you're ever involved in a crash on Hwy 93, the first thing experts suggest is documenting the road surface. Was there sand? Was the ice treated? These details determine who pays the bills.
Surprising Statistics You Won't See on the News
- Friday afternoons are statistically the most dangerous time on this route.
- Most serious accidents happen within 25 miles of the driver's destination (the "almost there" relaxation effect).
- Despite the snowy reputation, many of the worst rollovers happen on clear, dry days when speeds are higher.
Staying Alive on the 93
Look, I’m not saying don’t drive it. It’s one of the most iconic drives in the world. But you have to respect it.
First, check the webcams. Most states (AZ, NV, ID, MT) and BC have real-time cameras. If the road looks gray and shiny, that’s black ice. Don't go.
Second, give the person in front of you way more space than you think. If they hit a deer, you don't want to hit them.
Third, if you're the "slow" driver taking in the views, use the turnouts. Seriously. Letting that line of fifteen angry cars pass you prevents "frustration passing," which is how some of the nastiest head-on collisions start.
Real Actions to Take Now
If you're planning a trip or you live along this corridor, do these things:
Download Offline Maps. Cell service is a joke in the canyons. If you crash and don't have a signal, you can't even tell emergency services where you are. Download the area on Google Maps so your GPS works without a tower.
Check Your Tires. Not just the tread. The "age" of the rubber matters. If your tires are more than six years old, they're harder and lose grip on cold pavement, even if they look new.
Pack a Survival Kit. This sounds dramatic until you're stuck behind a road closure for six hours in 10-degree weather. Blankets, water, and a portable power bank are non-negotiable.
Report Hazards. If you see a massive pothole or a dead animal in the lane, call it in. Most state patrols have a non-emergency line. You might save the person behind you from becoming the next headline.
The crash on Hwy 93 serves as a grim reminder that high-speed travel is a high-stakes game. The road doesn't care about your schedule. It doesn't care that you're a "good driver." It only cares about physics. Drive accordingly.