I was in a late evening dinner in extreme southwestern Minnesota yesterday. I left for home at about 12:30 AM. It was snowing, but nothing difficult. The further east and north that I went the worse the snow became. I was on State highways but they had not yet been plowed and few in any other vehicles had been through. I had to drive with my low beams because the glare off the falling snow was too much to see where I was going. The snow was drifting and more than a foot deep in some places. I occasionally heard the rumble strips chattering under my tires but I couldn't determine if it was the left or right wheel or if was the center or shoulder rumble.
The wind was blowing very hard from the south and later the east so my side of the road had considerable drifting. I often found the center line on the right side of the truck when I came to a clear area. It was a two handed steering wheel clencher drive all the way home.
The final 8 miles were on a small county road that revealed no signs of other traffic and drifts 1-2 feet deep or more. I just missed a mail box that suddenly appeared out of the blowing snow. This is a road with minimal shoulders so I was close to hitting the ditch. I finally made it to my driveway. I bulled my way through the 3 foot deep drift right near the top and slowly descended the 70 foot drop to the lake.
It was one hell of a trip. I was elated to be home and exhausted from the white knuckle trip. It was just another day here in the Theater of Seasons on the tundra.
The wind was blowing very hard from the south and later the east so my side of the road had considerable drifting. I often found the center line on the right side of the truck when I came to a clear area. It was a two handed steering wheel clencher drive all the way home.
The final 8 miles were on a small county road that revealed no signs of other traffic and drifts 1-2 feet deep or more. I just missed a mail box that suddenly appeared out of the blowing snow. This is a road with minimal shoulders so I was close to hitting the ditch. I finally made it to my driveway. I bulled my way through the 3 foot deep drift right near the top and slowly descended the 70 foot drop to the lake.
It was one hell of a trip. I was elated to be home and exhausted from the white knuckle trip. It was just another day here in the Theater of Seasons on the tundra.
Mr. Flannery
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