March 11, 2013

Rhinelander chronicles: Part 2

A lot of it.

It fell like leaded cotton and snuck into every cranny. It fell for more than twelve hours, took a break, and kept coming.  I woke up to a post-apocalyptic world: seven inches of snow was frosting-thick on cars and sidewalks and front steps.

The drive to work took much longer than it usually does.  The road was really more of a suggestion of compacted powder with tire tracks than a carefully delineated path.  The front bumper of my car plowed through the plateau of re-accumulated snow in the space between my tires.  The roads were bumpy from every nugget of compacted snow that had been flung away by prior cars, and my neck and shoulders still ache from the death-grip I used on the steering wheel.  I found my heathen self searching for divine intervention in order to reach the clinic.

By mid-morning, repeated plow passes and the ground's leftover warmth from last week revealed the blacktop roads.  The drive home was with glorious speed, my foot on the pedal relishing in the traction of tire on pavement.

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