It did not snow last night, in fact it was a starry, moonlit night and so this morning before I left, I went about swapping all my gear from our big 4WD truck back to my little, gas-sipping for the long commute, car-this entails 2 trips to get the various sundry items of a day in the life of us. Then I started my car to get it toasty warm (it was -5F this morning) and prepared to leave.
Our immediate yard is protected by a large belt of trees to the north and west, protecting from all but the most ferocious winds. However, that sort of wind protection also makes a person clueless about what is going on out in the rest of the world.
I rounded my little Honda through the curve from the main yard and looked ahead to our quarter-mile long driveway. As soon as the wind protection ran out about 100 feet up, the drifts began. The light powdery snow we received the other day combined with some northwest winds we apparently had overnight had rendered the driveway full of drifts once more, even though my husband had spent a long time last night plowing it out.
I had a choice to make--turn back and schlepp all our gear into the ice cold truck, wait for it to warm up and then leave or, simply forge ahead and hope for the best. I chose the latter.
For those who have battled the drifted roads of the Great Plains, you know momentum is key. It's Physics 101: Newton's First Law of Motion states that a body in motion at a constant velocity will remain in motion in a straight line unless acted upon by an outside force. You can blast through all but the most hard-packed snow if you have have enough speed to overcome that "outside force".
The first drift was the biggest, the deep one that tends to form just past our gate. I knew if it caught my car, we would high center and I would have to trudge through the snow back to the house to get the truck and pull myself out (yes, this has happened before). Not going to happen if I could help it.
I had a good hundred feet of run up before the first drift and I used every bit of it. Woosh, the Honda skimmed through the first drift without missing a beat. There was no stopping now--the slightest hesitation and the snow would grab my tires and stop me in place. Because the ridged, crusted, snow of each side of the driveway sort of acts like bumpers for bumper bowling, I just focused on just staying straight and hitting the remaining 800 feet of drifts with enough speed to keep from stopping.
And I did it!
It is hard to describe the utter euphoria of defeating the drifted driveway. I literally smacked my car door and heaped praised on my little Honda as if it was the one who had been dumb enough to attempt that maneuver and come out the other side. But we did it! And I started my day feeling like the cock of the walk, or maybe the Diva of the Driveway.