Winter Hubris

Much of the United States experienced one of the worst snowstorms in a minute over the past few weeks. For some regions, it meant piles and piles of snow. For others, it meant one-in-a-lifetime temperatures that had you dripping faucets and praying for the best.

And for some, it was both!

Rob and Patrick experienced different versions of this recent winter sweep, though one thing the both of them had in common was, albeit very different reasons, making the poor decision to decide to try and drive through a blizzard and experiencing consequences.

Both wives were upset.

Patrick: A few weeks back, you mentioned a good letter series for us might be about preparing for a snowstorm. I virtually nodded, believing that, of course, there’d be much for me to discuss.

Such as…honestly, I don’t have a good answer. The weather was awful in spurts the past few weeks—piles of snow to manage, one day where the temperature with wind chill was something like negative 40—but outside of some groceries delivered a day in advance, it was pretty normal? We didn’t go to the store and stock up, a la COVID, on supplies like we’d never see daylight again? We get snow in Illinois but it’s rarely of the catastrophic variety. The local and state infrastructure to deal with worse-than-normal inclement weather is such that, so long as you’re not actively trying to drive through a potential death trap while it’s unfolding, you’ll be fine. 

Now, the weather that whipped through here was different than yours. By all accounts the snow you were dealing with was more of a pile on. Be honest, Rob. Do you take the threat of a snowstorm not as a warning—but a blessing to be given permission to load up and hibernate?

There have been moments in the past. A snowstorm knocked out power for longer than 24 hours just after our oldest was born. We stuck it out for a night before getting worried about the thermostat continuing to drop as we entered the second day, deciding to spend the next 24 at my mom’s. Sometime in the midst of that day, my signal that the power came back on was not a notice from the power company, but my phone informing me that I could control my lights again.

More recently, I was in Wisconsin over Thanksgiving when a mild amount of snow became a concerning amount of snow. Not a major worry for anyone in a well-stocked house, but the parts of Wisconsin I frequent are not near major cities. You’re talking smaller areas with more limited snow responses. Your road will get plowed and salted—but not before the major veins, such as they are, are accounted for first. That might take hours, could take half a day. And if the snow keeps coming down after that plow comes through? Well, again, it’s back to waiting again.

On this occasion, I had to deliver a check. With a friend or family, you could wait. But in this case, we’d bought something notable from a local and by the tone of their text message, they were hopeful to get that check despite the snow. And so I went out in the snowstorm, hugging the right side of the road and going well below the speed limit. My car has very new all-weather tires, but they are not specifically snow tires. The drive there, where you’re maneuvering up a series of tiny hills that curve around a lake dotted with bajillion dollar houses, was slow but fine.

What one acutely realizes on the way back is those tiny hills curving around the lake added up and become quite the elevation change on the way down, a descent into a road that has not been well plowed or salted. A road that, as you begin to tap on the break with your all-weather tires, you feel it…slip. It can’t establish a grip with the road. It’s at this moment you look in front of you and realize that, were you to keep slipping, it would be a slow motion wreck off the side of a tiny cliff. Would you survive this tiny cliff? Well, probably so. But would you want to chance the tiny cliff? Probably not. Thankfully, my tires kicked in, I slowed to 5MPH, and made it back.

Rob: You know, my driving instincts were humbled the day the storm started. MK and I were out at the audio shop listening to a few different DACs, and we were delighted when we saw postcard-perfect snowfall outside the windows. We enjoyed the pure cozy vibes while we listened to the same five music tracks on three different setups, then it was time to go.

My car has all-wheel drive and good (though damage-prone) all-season tires. It is ridiculously surefooted in most conditions. So I wasn't too troubled by all the fresh, slushy powder that had been dumped on the ground. I even laughed when we saw some Chevy SUV limping down a street after it had clearly just skidded out on the gentlest hill imaginable. We had no such trouble, and while I could feel the traction control working overtime and the car fishtailing ever so slightly, it wasn't alarming. Until we came to a stop sign. I flicked a quick left and hit the gas… and the car completely broke traction. Just slid to the right at like 3 MPH, heading toward a telephone pole. Fortunately the rear quarter panel tapped a snowdrift from the last snow storm and that checked our momentum enough for the car to get back under control.

I was much more cautious when we reached the turn to get back onto our street. Didn't matter: again the car shimmied and lurched wildly until it came to a halt. It had basically made its entire 90-degree turn by spinning in place.

MK, who used to drive a lot around rural Michigan, was unsurprised. She was like, "You're used to winter driving, but you're used to doing it on 41 through Wisconsin or driving around Boston where they salt like crazy. You're not used to a place where your roads are low-priority for the plows. You have no idea how bad the roads can really get." 

Which was a generous way of saying, "I forgive you for nearly putting me into a telephone pole you fucking idiot."