I know it is December in Michigan. I know I need snow tires. But what happened to the impecable sense of cosmic timing that used to wait until I was prepared before wreaking havoc with my life?
I spent Sunday at the hotel so that I could get into work for Monday morning. Good call on my part as when I got onto my road the plow had only made one pass... down the middle of the road... kinda. The front of my driveway had only about 9 inches of snow. So I did what any insane former paper carrier would do... I floored it... kinda. You know, for as much as almost a plow-width of space would allow. What I found upon entering my driveway was the the former mud whole had not frozen and i promptly sunk into what can only be termed "quicksnow". Beyond the quicksnow lay a 330 foot alley of 2-3 foot deep snow.
I shoveled around my car. I shoveled under part of my car. I used my scraper handle to work out the compacted snow up under the axel... all to no avail. I called the tow truck. Smart boy thought he could push me out. Wrong. Then smart boy tried the tow line. Wrong. So then he winched me. As fun as that could have been it wasn't. Remember that single bladed swath? As soon as my car hit that it slid sideways into the snowbanks.
So then I found a plow guy. He came at 2. I was still stuck in the little space I had shoveled out. When we got my car out of the way it was only 30 bucks to plow. So I'm not snowbound. But still down.