I'm a good driver. Snow doesn't scare me.
Snow that drifts across the road in depths higher than the front grill of my car, however, causes me to think twice about driving.
I met my cousins and some friends for lunch today after church, then headed over to their place after a couple hours of shopping (during which I found four fun belts at Goodwill, yippee!). A few episodes of Doctor Who and Sherlock later--not to mention a lot of browsing Pinterest for pictures of Michelle Obama's and Kate Middleton's styles--my cousin and I decided it was time for me to head home.
So it was 11 p.m. or so and I stepped outside--still wearing my church shoes (a cute pair of heels)--into several inches of snow.
There was definitely no snow on the ground when we came back from town around 5 p.m.
It can't be that bad, I thought, so I backed my car into a slightly shallower portion of snow so I could walk around the car, brushing the snow off the windshield and headlights without getting (too) much snow into my shoes.
I still ended up with wet socks. And that wasn't the worst.
Creeping down the road at 25 mph, I discovered three circumstances I couldn't tell from the driveway:
It took me several minutes to get to the first stop sign--the only place I was even remotely positive I could turn around and head back to my cousins' for the night.
Good thing they have extra toothbrushes.
Snow that drifts across the road in depths higher than the front grill of my car, however, causes me to think twice about driving.
I met my cousins and some friends for lunch today after church, then headed over to their place after a couple hours of shopping (during which I found four fun belts at Goodwill, yippee!). A few episodes of Doctor Who and Sherlock later--not to mention a lot of browsing Pinterest for pictures of Michelle Obama's and Kate Middleton's styles--my cousin and I decided it was time for me to head home.
So it was 11 p.m. or so and I stepped outside--still wearing my church shoes (a cute pair of heels)--into several inches of snow.
There was definitely no snow on the ground when we came back from town around 5 p.m.
It can't be that bad, I thought, so I backed my car into a slightly shallower portion of snow so I could walk around the car, brushing the snow off the windshield and headlights without getting (too) much snow into my shoes.
I still ended up with wet socks. And that wasn't the worst.
Creeping down the road at 25 mph, I discovered three circumstances I couldn't tell from the driveway:
- The roads aren't plowed. Not in the least.
- The snow is deep. I can't see the ditches and I'm not entirely sure where the cornfields start. (It's Indiana, remember. 98% of the state is cornfields. Or something like that.)
- The snow is still falling. Visibility is about six inches with the headlights on.
It took me several minutes to get to the first stop sign--the only place I was even remotely positive I could turn around and head back to my cousins' for the night.
Good thing they have extra toothbrushes.
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