Most of us have stories about at least one harrowing winter drive. Mine was a late night commute between Eagle Bay (near Old Forge) and Canton late one wintry night…. or early morning. I was in my 20's, and my car was not much younger.
The snow was way too deep for my 1966 Plymouth Valiant, but if I kept my speed up I could sort of 'float' through it. Stopping was not an option. Momentum was my secret weapon that night.
The snow was so deep (how deep was it?!) that it was coming into the interior via the steering column. It was packing in around the pedals and around my feet. I was watching the reflective markers to the left and right sides of the road, trying to stay halfway in between. The road was a bare snowy field; no lines were visible anywhere, and I don't remember any other navigational hints. This was years before cell phones, GPS, email, and long before I could afford the annual AAA membership, not that it would have helped much that night. There were few year-round residents in that area, and no 24-hour businesses. No radio stations either!
Most people stayed home in that kind of weather, at least until the plows came through in the morning. Me, I had to get back to work the next morning. I made it, just in time to drive straight to the office.
The Plymouth isn't around anymore, but I have a lifetime of humorous travel stories with that car – for another post.
Tell me: what was your most harrowing drive? Blizzard of '66? Snowstorm of '77? Ice storm of '98? Inquiring minds want to know!