Driving in the snow. . .

I started with the title Going in the Snow but realized that that had a whole different connotation. The things we alter to be clearly understood.
Being born in February in Minnesota means that I also got my license at age 16  by taking a driving test in February in Minnesota. Get the picture? Seeing as I moved away from there at age 17, you would think I didn’t get much experience with snow driving, but au contraire!
The Christmas before I got my license, my then boyfriend from here in Virginia flew north to visit my family, and when it came time to see him off at the airport in Minneapolis, there was a blizzard. Nothing stop planes from flying out of there – a blizzard is just routine winter. Somehow, my dad got us to the airport and, after seeing him off, we started home.
The snow was still falling and when we finally found our covered little aqua blue ’61 Corvair, (my car at that time) Dad said, “You drive.” Member Photos
Panic ensued as I began my vain arguments – complete with tears – that I COULDN’T do it! And his response was to give me directions of what roads to take and then promptly leaned back in his seat, pulled his hat over his eyes and fell asleep, snoring!
Bear in mind that the ’61 Corvair, a.k.a. the Ralph Nader car, had a rear engine and rear wheel drive so it ‘went’ in the snow without issue, but we’re talking roads covered so deep that they were fields of white with sign posts that occasionally popped up along the sides as navigational beacons.
I cried and drove and drove and cried, and dad slept. When we finally got home, he woke up and said, “Good job!” and got out of the car.
I never knew my dad to get stuck in the snow, nor my mom for that matter. I can remember them saying ‘use gravity as your friend’. A heavy vehicle wants to go where the weight is pulling it – if you can use that to benefit you, do it.
Yesterday, as I was leaving work, an elderly couple sat spinning on the ice in the parking lot of the post office. I drove around them, stopped and said, “I’m from Minnesota. Would you trust me to drive your car out of here for you?”
He said, “Yes!”
And I got in and drove it just as sweet as you please into the parking lot next door so he could get traction to get up the slight incline onto the road. He thanked me profusely, and drove out of there. Had I not wanted to get home to my beloved so very badly, (he called me and told me he had made a pot of home made split pea with ham soup), I would have coaxed him on how to do it himself, but the call of food after a long cold day is strong with this one . . .