Last Thursday, there was an AWFUL snow storm where I live. It started in the early afternoon and was so bad that all the after-school activities at my daughter's high school were cancelled.All, that is, except for the Band's winter concert. The Band, in which my daughter plays trombone, would perform their concert as planned. As performances are a major component of the children's grade and most (if not all) high school Band students are high academic performers, none of the students dared to miss the concert -- despite the dangerous driving conditions.
Aware that the weather would hinder our travel to school, Anne and I departed the house a few minutes early. My car not garaged, I pulled out my brush and wiped sticky snow off all the windows of my car before we left. It was a virtually useless endeavor since snow was falling so quickly that my windows were recovered in it before I sat back in the car. I used my wipers to wipe it away as we slowly pulled out of my parking place in the driveway, then again as we pulled onto the street, then again when we had driven about 200 feet to the stop sign at the end of the street.
Virtually impossible to see through the blinding snow that partially melted as it hit my windshield and slid into the accumulating pile of slush on my wiper blades, I checked for oncoming traffic by looking for the light from headlights. There was none and I turned left onto the main subdivision road that would lead us to the highway.
I flipped the knob to turn my wipers to stay on automatic delay. No street lights to guide me, no stars or moon in the sky to shed light, snow blowing in melting sheets onto my windshield, I had trouble locating the road but I pulled slowly onto it anyway. My wheels slid as I pulled around the corner and I held my breath as I tried to compensate with the steering wheel. If I were to slide off the road, my car would be stuck in a ditch awaiting a tow truck and we would have to walk back to the house in the blizzard -- my daughter in heels and a floor-length gown. Thankfully, I was able to keep the car on the road. Now it was just half a mile on the curvy, unplowed road to the highway -- which was well maintained with plows during snow storms and where I could safely pick up speed.
Winding carefully and slowly down the main subdivision street, another car came into the oncoming lane and I noticed that its headlights made my visibility a LOT easier. When it passed us, my visibility got really poor again. I puzzled over this for a moment, then looked for the light from my headlights. This is when I noticed that my left headlight was producing little light and my right headlight was shining NONE.
"Oh, no! Is my headlight out?!" I thought.
I flipped on my brights and light shone. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. It was then that I realized that I had forgotten to wipe the snow off of my headlights.
Not daring to stop my car on the main subdivision throughfare in a blizzard, I thought, "It will blow off when I get to the highway and pick up speed."
I got to the highway and slipped right (thank goodness it was a right turn!) to follow the tail lights of an SUV. I turned my wipers to stay continuously on. Water smeared across my windshield with the first stroke of the blades. Their second stroke smeared more water across my vision. So did their third. I realized that ice must be trapped under my wiper blades. I turned them off. I could see better through slush than through smears of water.
Following the tail lights in front of us down the large hill that our subdivision rests upon, there was noplace to pull off the road. I gradually picked up speed... to about 25 miles per hour. (It is a 45 mph road.) No snow blew off my headlights. I deduced there must be ice on them, like there was under my windshield wiper blades. Still, there was noplace for me to safely stop my car in the midst of blinding snowfall on what was supposedly a high-speed, country highway.
Within not too long, the tail lights I was following disappeared around a curve in the road. I was alone again. More afraid to stop than to continue, I pushed on, doing my best to stay on the road I could barely see through the cracks in smears of water on glass.
"You are really leaning to the right," remarked Anne as we neared to the road's single stoplight. (It marked our next turn.)
"I can't see," I responded.
"That explains it," she responded. Her wiper blades having less ice accumulation under them left her side of the windshield clearer than mine.
She remarked, "I think you're driving on the wrong side of the road!"
Seeing the headlights of another car turning onto the road at the stoplight a quarter mile ahead of us, I steered to my right. The traffic light was close now. Turn at it, go a few blocks to turn at the next light, then up a short hill and turn into the high school parking lot. I could almost see the parking stall I would pull into so that I could knock the ice off my headlights and wiper blades.
"You're going to run into the median!" Anne exclaimed. A street sign manifested itself in front of my car.
Adrebaline pumping, I steered to my right -- and cleared the street sign. (Whew!) At this point, the roads were lit by streetlights and we were able to make it to the high school without further incident. In my parking stall, I knocked inches of ice off both my headlights -- especially the right one. I also cleaned the ice off my windsheild wipers. After the concert, I cleaned my headlights and wiper blades again before leaving the parking lot.
The snow was still horrible and ice formed almost right away under my wiper blades again. This time, though, I was in town. I pulled into a parking lot to again knock my wiper blades clear of ice before continuing home in relative safety.
Was the concert worth our dangerous brush with disaster? Well, I do think the concert should rightly have been postponed, but let me tell you. My heart swelled with pride when I heard the opening notes of this closing piece that my daughter played with the KMHS Wiind Symphony.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmJYFtWAh4s
Please click Like on Youtube if you are as impressed with her as I am!
Aware that the weather would hinder our travel to school, Anne and I departed the house a few minutes early. My car not garaged, I pulled out my brush and wiped sticky snow off all the windows of my car before we left. It was a virtually useless endeavor since snow was falling so quickly that my windows were recovered in it before I sat back in the car. I used my wipers to wipe it away as we slowly pulled out of my parking place in the driveway, then again as we pulled onto the street, then again when we had driven about 200 feet to the stop sign at the end of the street.
Virtually impossible to see through the blinding snow that partially melted as it hit my windshield and slid into the accumulating pile of slush on my wiper blades, I checked for oncoming traffic by looking for the light from headlights. There was none and I turned left onto the main subdivision road that would lead us to the highway.
I flipped the knob to turn my wipers to stay on automatic delay. No street lights to guide me, no stars or moon in the sky to shed light, snow blowing in melting sheets onto my windshield, I had trouble locating the road but I pulled slowly onto it anyway. My wheels slid as I pulled around the corner and I held my breath as I tried to compensate with the steering wheel. If I were to slide off the road, my car would be stuck in a ditch awaiting a tow truck and we would have to walk back to the house in the blizzard -- my daughter in heels and a floor-length gown. Thankfully, I was able to keep the car on the road. Now it was just half a mile on the curvy, unplowed road to the highway -- which was well maintained with plows during snow storms and where I could safely pick up speed.
Winding carefully and slowly down the main subdivision street, another car came into the oncoming lane and I noticed that its headlights made my visibility a LOT easier. When it passed us, my visibility got really poor again. I puzzled over this for a moment, then looked for the light from my headlights. This is when I noticed that my left headlight was producing little light and my right headlight was shining NONE.
"Oh, no! Is my headlight out?!" I thought.
I flipped on my brights and light shone. A sigh of relief escaped my lips. It was then that I realized that I had forgotten to wipe the snow off of my headlights.
Not daring to stop my car on the main subdivision throughfare in a blizzard, I thought, "It will blow off when I get to the highway and pick up speed."
I got to the highway and slipped right (thank goodness it was a right turn!) to follow the tail lights of an SUV. I turned my wipers to stay continuously on. Water smeared across my windshield with the first stroke of the blades. Their second stroke smeared more water across my vision. So did their third. I realized that ice must be trapped under my wiper blades. I turned them off. I could see better through slush than through smears of water.
Following the tail lights in front of us down the large hill that our subdivision rests upon, there was noplace to pull off the road. I gradually picked up speed... to about 25 miles per hour. (It is a 45 mph road.) No snow blew off my headlights. I deduced there must be ice on them, like there was under my windshield wiper blades. Still, there was noplace for me to safely stop my car in the midst of blinding snowfall on what was supposedly a high-speed, country highway.
Within not too long, the tail lights I was following disappeared around a curve in the road. I was alone again. More afraid to stop than to continue, I pushed on, doing my best to stay on the road I could barely see through the cracks in smears of water on glass.
"You are really leaning to the right," remarked Anne as we neared to the road's single stoplight. (It marked our next turn.)
"I can't see," I responded.
"That explains it," she responded. Her wiper blades having less ice accumulation under them left her side of the windshield clearer than mine.
She remarked, "I think you're driving on the wrong side of the road!"
Seeing the headlights of another car turning onto the road at the stoplight a quarter mile ahead of us, I steered to my right. The traffic light was close now. Turn at it, go a few blocks to turn at the next light, then up a short hill and turn into the high school parking lot. I could almost see the parking stall I would pull into so that I could knock the ice off my headlights and wiper blades.
"You're going to run into the median!" Anne exclaimed. A street sign manifested itself in front of my car.
Adrebaline pumping, I steered to my right -- and cleared the street sign. (Whew!) At this point, the roads were lit by streetlights and we were able to make it to the high school without further incident. In my parking stall, I knocked inches of ice off both my headlights -- especially the right one. I also cleaned the ice off my windsheild wipers. After the concert, I cleaned my headlights and wiper blades again before leaving the parking lot.
The snow was still horrible and ice formed almost right away under my wiper blades again. This time, though, I was in town. I pulled into a parking lot to again knock my wiper blades clear of ice before continuing home in relative safety.
Was the concert worth our dangerous brush with disaster? Well, I do think the concert should rightly have been postponed, but let me tell you. My heart swelled with pride when I heard the opening notes of this closing piece that my daughter played with the KMHS Wiind Symphony.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmJYFtWAh4s
Please click Like on Youtube if you are as impressed with her as I am!
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