I saw something new to me on the internet the other day. A snowplow. Not just your ordinary snowplow, but a snowplow pulling a full trailer. The lead unit had the traditional adjustable angle blade, and the trailer had another blade. The trailer follows the truck at a 45-degree angle and, using both blades, effectively clears two lanes of traffic. The video showed three snowplows running closely together, the first clearing all of the center lane and most of the middle lane, the second combination unit clearing the middle lane and most of the right lane with a third unit (without the trailer) pushing the accumulated snow well off the traveled portion of the road onto the shoulder.
I added a comment that perhaps they got the idea watching me bring a loaded hay rig down a hill that got slick past the last suitable spot to hang the steel tennis shoes (tire chains). I added that it left my helper stuttering for a week.
Living in the center of the Columbia Basin in central Washington state, as of Nov. 30, we’ve only had enough snow to see if you watched really fast, as when it tried to snow, the temperature was close to 40ºF. I’m not complaining, especially catching glimpses of the weather and snow-closed freeways in other parts of the country.
The closest I’ve been to needing a tow truck was on a frozen-over mud road heading to a ranch by Charleston, Nevada. An hour after sunrise until three hours or so after sunset, the road was good and muddy. The nighttime temperatures froze it over so tire chains were not needed for the most part.
On this trip there had been just a little fresh snow accompanied by some robust winds. On the flat, there’d been about an inch of new snow. Around 11:30 p.m., I came around a bend in the road and found a surprise snowdrift just big enough to pull the steering axle of my truck off the road and into the shallow dip on the edge of the road. Luckily it wasn’t deep enough to slide the load off.
There was just enough snow under my drive axles that I couldn’t pull back on the road. I got the trailer unhooked from the truck and was able to drive the truck by itself back onto the frozen mud part of the road that had better traction. I backed it up close to the trailer, and with a 20-foot chain from the pintle hitch to the hitch eye on the dolly of the trailer, I pulled the trailer back on the road after releasing the trailer brakes.
I hooked the trailer back to the truck and proceeded without further incident. I had called the rancher when I left Mountain City, and he’d meet me while unloading with a check for each load. The deal was that if I hadn’t shown up at the appointed time, he would come looking for me. It was a hassle, but he needed the hay before the roads dried up for the summer in the spring.
Another wild night I was coming back from Portland, Oregon, and on top of Cabbage Mountain, east of Pendleton, it was snowing. Dark outside, and the snowflakes were half-dollar size and thick with a crosswind blowing it across the road. It was so thick that it was difficult to see the road or any markers as to where the road should be. I realized I was getting a vertigo feeling that I should be driving the truck in the direction the snow was falling, which would put me and it off the road. I realized that I was getting a hypnotic effect from the headlights shining into the blowing snow.
I turned the music box off and opened my window, then started yelling at myself to break the trance I felt I was falling into. The snow calmed down in a couple of miles, but that one gave me nightmares.
On one of the few trips when Elli was with me, we had unloaded in the Pe Ell, Washington, area and were heading back to Portland. A few miles from the Columbia River, in the dark and with a light rain starting to fall, I noticed about a mile ahead lots of brake lights coming on. The speed limits were then 55, and I was doing every bit of it.
I started slowing down and as I noticed that traffic ahead of me to not only be slowing down, but also moving erratically, my windshield wipers started making a “brapp" sound with each pass over the glass. Freezing rain.
I was down to about 25 mph when I caught up to traffic. I had Elli get out of the sleeper and into the “dummy chair” (passenger chair – occupant not bright enough to be driving nor bright enough to lie down in the sleeper) and fasten her seat belt. That last 5 or 6 miles took about an hour, but we were successful at playing “Dodge ‘em.”
If you have to drive in adverse conditions, stay safe and remember that oft times, prudence is the better part of valor.
