This is only my second winter in New England and, after spending most of my life in tropical climates, I am still mezmerized by the sacred white flurries and their magnificent accumulation. The weatherman instructed me to prepare for a winter storm at the three o’clock hour, but when I arrived at work this morning the flakes had already started to swirl in silent pirouettes. I emerged from the warm cocoon of my VW Jetta with a face full of tiny wet kisses. As I unpacked my teaching supplies from the backseat, the soft snowfall began to gather along the shoulders of my coat and in the tangled wisps of my unkept locks. My inner child grinned with wild delight at the magic of it all. Much to the amusement of several groggy college students, I squealed like a small girl and spun in frenzied circles in the busy parking lot. It was an innocent moment between us, their curiousity captured by my playful display. How were they not utterly enchanted? Where was their sense of reverence and wonderment? I laughed out loud and one young man answered me with a cautious chuckle.
“Not from around here, eh?” he inquired.
I shook my head as I threw my gaze skyward and welcomed the taste of tiny water crystals on my tongue. “The sky is falling! The sky is falling! And I love it!” I shot him a toothly smile as a waddled across the slush and ice to the safety of our front lobby.
Hours later, after our final classes were complete, I threw open the double glass doors to greet the life-size version of a well-shaken snowglobe. It was marvelous, hypnotizing, and fierce. I stood speechless and spellbound on the frozen rubber mat, staring out into an unfamiliar world that left me simultaneously invigorated and terrified. Oh my God, it’s beautiful! Oh my God, I don’t have snow tires or four-wheel drive.
I dashed out into the blinding white, this time squealing more frantically than before as I leaped to avoid puddles of salt and sand. My eyes locked on my feet, I shuffled around the parking lot like a walking meditation labrynth, until finally stumbling into my car. I brushed the snow from the back window with the sleeve of my coat, then pumped my electronic key fob and fumbled for the door handle. With the assistance of my wipers, the fresh power flew from my windshied in an arched spray. I slipped the gear into reverse, then realized my freshly cleared rear window had quickly been returned to zero-visibility. What the hell? I pressed the accelerator lightly and prayed for the best.
I don’t think I ever broke 25 mph on my 12 mile drive home, but at some point I realized my hands were cramping from the death-grip on the steering wheel.
In the many translations of Biblical scripture, the words “awe” and “fear” have often been used interchangeably. Today, God demonstrated to me how that is possible.
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December 14, 2007 at 1:41 am
mrschili
Welcome to New England. Now go get some snow tires…
December 14, 2007 at 11:02 pm
Dad
Here is a little fatherly advice. Snow tires do not prevent accidents. They just help you get through the deeper snow. Driving on snow is more about speed, turning and breaking. The car will always want to continue in a straight line once you get it moving. As a general rule leave twice as much space between you and the car in front as you would on a dry pavement day. Use the engine first, then the break, when slowing. Heavy vehicles can stop quicker than light vehicles. To make your car heavier, put a box of sand in the trunk. Carry a scoop and/or shovel too. The sand will come in handy if you ever get stuck.
As a kid, I actually took my car to an empty snow covered parking lot (no lamp posts or cars) to practice regaining control during a skid caused by breaking too hard or turning too sharp. If you ever go into a spin, take your foot off the break and steer in the opposite direction (toward the direction the car is moving). It will straighten itself out. When slowing, tap the break and try not to lock the wheels.
90% of problems on the road will be caused by other people who have no understanding of the physics of relative motion, momentum or the coefficient of friction. Thanks to the Bush Administration more trucks on US roads may now be driven by some guy who grew up in tropical Mexico, and this is the first time he has even seen snow.
Love, Dad
December 16, 2007 at 9:40 pm
mrschili
Dad’s right about a lot of that, but I’m not sure his skid advice is valid in front-wheel drive vehicles. I asked Mr. Chili (being that I’m not good with spacial stuff) and his answer was “turn your wheels in the direction you eventually want to go. If you’re turning into (or out of) a skid, when you regain control of the car, that’s the direction you’re going to go.” You’ll almost never lose the rear of your car in the Jetta - my experience in my car has always been that the front goes straight when I’m trying to turn.
Anyway, everything else Dad had to say is dead-on. The sand (or kitty litter - a little easier to get hold of as it’s sold in grocery stores and doesn’t require a trip to the hardware store) and the scoop or shovel (I’d go with a small shovel) are great to have in the trunk - both for weight and for digging out if the worst happens.
Dad’s also absolutely right about the biggest risk of winter driving; the morons who think that just because they’re in a Volvo or an SUV, they’re immune to the laws of Physics. The simple fact is that Sir Isaac Newton is REALLY the one in control in these situations, and a body in motion, whether it’s got posi-traction or not, is going to stay in frickin’ motion. (I wrote this about this time last year… http://theinnerdoor.wordpress.com/2006/12/30/the-real-reason-i-hate-snow/)
The best way to avoid trouble on the roads? Stay home when it’s snowing.
Love ya!
Chili
December 17, 2007 at 5:10 pm
Organic Mama
I am also with your very wise Dad on driving in the white mess from the sky (majesty? grandeur? snowglobeness? Yes, also dangerous, heavy and sometimes, very dangerous), and with Chili on winter trunk tools - be prepared, my little winter newbie! And I also learned to control the skid in parking lots; my dad had a Olds station wagon that was a 19 year-old’s dream winter plaything - wheee! Now, the thought of my kids attempting that (which they couldn’t with the newer cars anyway) fills me with dread.
Anyway, rambling aside, welcome to the snowiest winter of my 10 years here.