The season’s first major snowstorm usually conjures up a sense of dread and panic in me. I creep along the roadways like an elderly person out for a Sunday drive. Vehicles begin to form a long line behind me because I refuse to speed up while others who are lucky enough to have four wheel drive pass and leave me eating slush.
    Sometimes those people give me dirty looks, which fries my nerves even more. They probably think I should get off the road. But come on, be nice, I have places to be too.
    I’ve never been in a snow-related accident, which maybe I should owe to careful and painstakingly slow driving. I admire those who drive in the snow without fear. Several years ago my friend and I were driving home on the turnpike during a bad storm. She was driving – because if I can, I make other people drive in the snow – and I couldn’t see anything, not the cars in front of us, not the lanes, nothing.
    Fearlessly, she went barreling down the road at 50 mph. I thought she was a tad bit maniacal in comparison to myself, but we made it home OK.
    I also hate the first snowstorm because I’ve never had a vehicle that was good in the snow. One morning last year I got up early to be at the office because I needed to finish putting the paper together. It was the worst snowstorm we had and my car would not budge. Bob and I found ourselves without a shovel so we dug with our hands. Onlookers took pity on us and tried to help push my vehicle. At one point they were trying to lift it off the ground and over the snow piles behind my tires.
    I was just about having a heart attack imagining not getting to work in time because if I didn’t, it meant page 3 would be printed completely blank. They kept digging and pushing, looking like they were going to have heart attacks and finally got my car pointing in the right direction.
    Just as they did, our apartment complex’s maintenance person drove up beside me, laughed and said, “good luck, there’s no way you’re going to get out of here.”
    That’s not what I needed to hear. I pushed on, though. The roads hadn’t been plowed and I had to dodge downed trees. I held my breath and skidded through intersections but I made it to work and all was well with the paper. I was a little wild eyed when I got there, but relieved.
    I was nervous about Monday’s storm but I have a weapon against all snowstorms this year – a four wheel drive vehicle, finally. It’s Bob’s new truck, but when snowflakes fly, it’s mine.
    I drove out of my parking space with confidence this morning, feeling like the king of the road in Bob’s big truck. I didn’t get too cocky, though. I still creeped along. I’m sure people wondered why I was driving slow in such a vehicle but old habits are hard to break I guess.