So, we’re naming snow storms now, like hurricanes? I wasn’t aware. When did this happen? I’m not up to speed on the latest trends in meteorology, etc. In any case, Jason or Larry, or whatever that crap was that rolled through here yesterday, complicated my evening.
As the hype continued to ramp-up, I left for work. I didn’t like the idea of being 40 miles from home when the Storm of the Century descended on us, but I’d made a vow to work 150 hours during the current pay period. No way could I miss a whole day; it would jeopardize my dreams of glory. Plus, I didn’t want the propagandists to win.
But I had an uneasy feeling all night. Assholes kept reporting that things were ugly outside, and that the governor had ordered all the plows off the roads. It was so bad, someone told me, they were just giving up the fight. Gulp. I had to drive home, at 1:30 a.m.
Employees were jumping ship by the dozens, and by the end of the night there was a skeleton crew in that place. Just a few of us lunatics remained.
As I cleaned off my car, preparing it for the impossible journey, I had visions of being stuck on the uphill grade of Montage Mountain. WTF, man? I should be in the family room right now, ‘neath a blanket, watching It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia. Instead, I’m driving home from a distribution center in Dog Balls, Pennsylvania, in the middle of the night, during Winter Storm Carl or whatever. My life: #shambles.
And the drive sucked. It started well, but it was only a tease. Interstate 81, where I entered it, was cleared off nicely, and I thought I was in luck. But it only lasted for a mile or so, and everything went shitty. There were stretches where my car was doing things I didn’t ask it to do, and I was tense as a mofo. I know how to drive in snow, but at some point it doesn’t matter anymore: nature is going to win. Just ask those shin-gobblers named Donner.
For most of the trip only one lane was cleared, and “cleared” is a loose term. It was stressful, and dark, and mostly abandoned. During one section especially, I was sure my little exercise was about to come to an end. I was sliding and going sideways, again and again. My ass was producing diamonds, and smelting copper.
But I made it somehow. When I got to our little town, the roads were horrible, and I ran three red lights. The cops love to pull me over, but I couldn’t risk stopping and throwing away all that valuable forward motion. They didn’t bother me last night.
Back in our neighborhood it was ridiculous, but I got my car all the way to our driveway. After I turned off the engine, and got out, I could feel my tightly-coiled muscles release. And my stomach felt… dynamic.
I went down to the basement, grabbed two beers from the fridge, put one in my jacket pocket, and opened the other. Then I stood on the porch sipping the golden elixir, while Andy frolicked and rolled through the high-ass snow. He looked like a porpoise leaping through the water. At least he still likes that crap.
Tonight it’s going to seem like high luxury driving on roads that aren’t conspiring against me.
I’ll see you guys again soon.
Now playing in the bunker
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I also had to drive home in that unbelievable weather. Altho it hadn’t really started snowing yet, the roads were as slick as KY jelly. At the top of a steep hill, I saw a 4 car pile up at the bottom, where cars had slid into each other going thru a cross road. Apparently one of them rolled right on thru a stop sign and everyone else shit the bed, T-boning each other and driving up the rear end of the car in front. The only way I had to avoid joining in on the festivities (I couldn’t stop either) was to drive off to the side and into a ditch. No damage done, thank god, but it took forever to sort out that clusterfuck, and I had to wait my turn to be winched out. Good times!
PS: Was I first???
One word: Bliz…. no, I can’t do it.
I live in Oxford, CT which officially got 36.2″ of snow. There was also lots of drifting so in parts it’s unbelievably deep. People could easily get lost in it – scary stuff. It’s 2:45pm and my hubby is STILL digging us out. He bought a big-bad-ass snowblower years ago which I USED to tease him as being overkill. I freely admit I was wrong. Even that monster snowblower needs SEVERAL passes to get down to pavement because the snow is just that much deeper than it. Sheesh. Its a friggin’ mess up here. We haven’t seen a town plow on our street yet and don’t expect to for quite a while. This town is SHUT DOWN until further notice. I don’t care what they named it, this storm is a PIA.
Hi Liza – I feel your pain. I live over the border in New York but everything in Danbury is closed. Costco was closed al weekend. We got 16 inches plus or minus.
Glad you made it home safe! WHEW!
My best drive home in the snow was in the 70s when we moved back to good ol snowy in the wintertime WV from sunny and mostly warm even in January Florida. When I arrived at our apartment from my 3-11 at the hospital, my hubby had about given up the ghost on packing. AH friend, Ed, had already taken his pay for helping with the big stuff in the goodly portion of a fifth of Makers Mark and gone home. I cheered my husband on and we managed to finish loading the U-Haul around 3 a.m. We then spent a glorious night sleeping on the shag carpet of our apartment. When you’re young, stuff like that seems sensible and doesn’t hurt you lastingly. Next morning, we loaded up our Mustang, hooked it to the U-Haul, gathered up our miniature poodle, and off we went. Things were fine until we hit that first Interstate hill in Georgia. Kind of like the recent snowsqualls in Ohio that caused scores of wrecks, we drove from basically cloudy weather into a white wall where 6 inches was already on the ground and more of it was peppering down. What’s more, I was stuck in the driver’s seat. Much like you, we feared sliding backwards about 4 hours’ worth if we pulled off to trade places. The windshield wipers were shitless wonders in that kind of snow. My husband solved this dilemma quite handily by taking off his #13 tennis shoe and whacking the wiper on his side every time it plowed its load of snow over his direction. I stayed in the erstwhile fast lane (heh), cursing every dimwit in the right hand lane that SLOWED DOWN as they approached uphill stretches, and we made it through. That night, one of the worst of my sleeping career, we spent dozing in the cab of the truck, parked at some dark and frigid rest stop. We kept laying over on top of each other, taking turns every couple of hours, to keep our upper bodies warm (if we tried that now, first one on the bottom would be suffocated). I thought sure I was going to lose some toes. We arrived in WV the next afternoon–HOME–still in love with snow, and very glad to get back to where we once belonged.
Dog Balls, Pennsylvania. heh…
i hear you about the weather.
It got down to about 55 degrees, with wind chill, today.
I feel your pain. I had to put a sweatshirt on when I took the Harley out today.
Glad you made it home alright, Jeff. That adventure sounds like it definitely deserved “at least” two beers.
Good luck with those work hours! I think I’ll go re-read Crossroads Road in hopes some sort of good karma will work its way toward you.
You know what, I’ll buy you a “Fancy-ass microbrew pitcher” as well. That will surely come in handy.
Live just south of the Mason-Dixon line and we dodged Norman or Nemo – a bit of rain and rather windy last night.
Watching Mardi Gras parades online and drinking champagne to celebrate mailing in our mortgage payoff today. Life is just too good at the moment.
Stay safe, y’all. *dances*
Congrats, Clueless! One big-assed payment off the bucket list!
WOO HOO!
Glad you made it home, Jeff! And I’ll agree with Darktech that two beers is the minimum possible reward; it hardly bears mentioning that we are in the heart of Bourbon Season right now.
I learned to drive on the Breast of the Newfallen Snow in the mountains of western Mass., but it’s kind of nice not to have to deal with that shit on a regular basis since moving to Dixieland.
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Right, and when DID they start naming snowstorms? I don’t hold with that. “Blizzard of ’78” is all the name a snowstorm needs.
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“…shin-gobblers named Donner” had me in stitches! That’s HILARIOUS!
Now, if you would have had Blizzaks on your car… 🙂
Per a quick Google search, it appears it’s just the assholes at The Weather Channel who are naming the storms. They think it raises awareness. I think it’s easier for them to terrorize everyone.
Yep! Just popped back into let you know I heard it was the Weather Channel naming them. These names are nothing official but it seems they have this years name list ready so expect more.
Ah, your story reminds me of being a teenager in WV. They used to give us kids free lift tickets at the ski resorts when school was cancelled because of snow. I can’t believe the things we drove through to cash in on that. It’s a wonder we didn’t die, but I guess a chevette packed with 6 guys, a fifth of liquor, and skis strapped randomly around the outside does pretty well in snowy weather. Maybe you should try that next time.
I thought NEMO stood for Nor Easter Muthafucka Ogre. But alas, I was mistaken.
And here I thought it was called Nimrod.
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That storm missed Pittsburgh by the hair of our yinzer chins. Three feet of snow?!?! Funk dat!!! I hope you all in Dog Ball area are ok.
Man, we must’ve had two inches of snow last night.
That shut this place down. Town is empty, stores are closed. Even the Army fort was shut down until ten oclock.
I saw two wrecks on the way in this morning (at 6:30 since I never get notified of late starts). There was one in the making with some cop chasing down some guy that must have been going almost 55 in a 50.
It’s like people around here are allergic to fluffy solid form rain. That all go batshit insane. People are trying to swerve around snow flakes like their car will burst into and icy ball of explosion if they touch one. Nerds in lab coats are collecting snow samples to identify the nature of the new substance. Gay dogs and cats are marrying eachother and border crossers turn around because they think they went too far and hit Canada.