Snow Country

I grew up on Lake Erie, in the land of lake effect snow. I remember plenty of times as a kid when we were snowed in--and being snowed in in snow country is serious business. Here in the Ohio Valley, a foot of snow can close down the city for a week. Up in the Great Lakes snow belt, a foot of snow is a pain, for sure, but it's no show stopper. A few years ago, we got a foot of snow here in Cincy. I happened to talk to my younger sister on the night of the big snow. I told her about the mess: the car accidents, broken tree limbs, the school closings. I asked her, "What about you? Did you get snow?". She made a sound that clearly meant "not really," and then she said, "Well, we got about 40 inches in the last couple of days." I gasped and asked if the kids were excited to be off school. "Oh, they're not off," she said. "They got the snow cleared off the roads overnight, so schools weren't cancelled.".

Everybody says that that's the difference between a snow country snowfall and a non-snow country one: one place is simply better prepared to clear the roads quickly. More plows, more salt trucks, more experience. I'm sure that's all true, but I think it's an attitude, too. When I was a northwestern Pennsylvanian, I had a pretty cocky attitude about driving in snow. I drove my parents' boat of a car--a big blue Pontiac Executive for a time--and it was outfitted with studded snow tires. I'd set out and aim my car for the deep hard-packed tire ruts In the snow, and off I'd go. I can remember getting stuck in snow banks several times, but I never remember being stuck for long. Neighbors would hear the familiar sound of studded tires spinning on the snow or ice, and somebody always came out to push. Once, on the corner of Perry and East 26th Street, I stopped too quickly at a stop sign and found myself jammed into a snow mountain a plow had formed on the side of the road. Within five minutes, a jeep pulled up. The driver jumped out, chain in tow, wrapped the chain around something on my car--who knows what--and then dragged me out of the drift. I gave him five bucks for his trouble, and we both set off. No mess, no stress.

Here, in southwestern Ohio, I am much more trepidatious in snow. It isn't because I don't trust my fellow Ohioans in the snow--well, not always. I don't trust myself anymore. I don't have the experience I used to have. I don't have the studded tires, either. I still yell at the drivers in front of me, screaming things like, "DON'T SLOW DOWN ON A HILL!!" but I mostly flounder around on the snow and ice just like they do. I retain my cockiness, but it's baseless.

I'm heading north soon for Christmas, and all reports say that the roads are clear. I'll pack a blanket in the trunk and make sure my cell phone is fully charged. Once I get up there, I'll hope for a white Christmas. They can handle it up there.



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