My Knight in Arctic Snow Gear

The neighborhood gets a real kick out of Neil's winter hat. They joke that they always know it's Neil when they spot his furry Arctic snow hat. I suppose that spending two winters in the Arctic Circle of Finland ruined Neil. Whether he's out grilling burgers or making his five minute commute to his heated office, he doesn't leave the house without his hat, gloves, and coat. When it comes to the cold, Neil doesn't mess around.

When we got hit with the "Storm of the Century" two weeks ago, I was heading out the door to Sabrina's violin lesson. Neil called concerned and asked whether I should be going out in the snowstorm. I gave him a typical over-confident Utahn response, "Naa! I'll be fine. The snow isn't even sticking to the roads yet!" Famous last words.

Sabrina's violin teacher's home sits nestled  in a gully on the East side of Layton. This means two things. One...that the snow accumulates earlier and faster at her house. And Two...that getting in and out of her neighborhood requires going up and down hills. A terrible combination when you are dealing with the storm of the century.

We walked out of Sabrina's violin lesson, unburied the van, then began the struggle up Cathy's hill. I was approaching a left hand turn onto an even steeper hill. I told Sabrina to check for traffic because if I yielded before the turn, there would be no making it up the hill. She assured me that the coast was clear, but my meager momentum was no match for the slippery slope. Rather than turning left, my van just slid straight across the road until I was finally able to stop it. There I sat, with my rear end impeding the already desperate traffic pulling onto that hill. 

After two failed attempts at turning the van frontward and getting it to drive upward, I called Neil, and told him that yes,  he was right, and could he please come get me out of here. I am spatially challenged. I know this about myself, and Neil knows this about me. I have a hard enough time maneuvering my van in optimum weather conditions, this was most certainly a lost cause. After 18 years of marriage and just about that many vehicular menageries, Neil has learned that when I tell him that I don't think I can maneuver myself out of a situation, it is best to believe me. His response..."I'll be right there!" 

"I'll be right there!" ended up meaning waiting an hour for Neil to drive 4 miles through a parking lot on Highway 193. A nice gentleman had helped push my van to the side so that I was no longer in the middle of the road. I managed to find my hazard lights, then Sabrina and I hunkered down and waited for Neil. We watched car after car make it up and down the hill by the skin of their teeth. And we watched a few not make it up the hill. One car slid down the hill then hit backwards into the curb. We watched the gentleman get out of the car and walk away. His abandoned vehicle may still be sitting there as we speak. 

I called to check on Jessica and the boys. She informed me that all was well and by the way, that Mor Mor had called to warn me to under no condition go on the roads today. I curtly thanked her for the advice and told her that we were stuck and that I had no idea when I might be home. I called Neil every 15 minutes to see how he was getting along and to tell him how many people had almost wrecked while I was sitting here watching. You know, validation that this was not one of my normal shenanigans, that even people with normal spatial skills were a mess on this road. Each time I called, Neil informed me that he had moved about 20 feet since the last time I called. I told him to park at the church at the top of the hill, and to not even attempt coming into this gully with his bald tires.

This was turning into quite a fiasco. Did I mention that I had not eaten since breakfast, and my blood sugar was getting dangerously low? You see, the plan was to get me a burger with a super-sized fry and Dr. Pepper immediately after the lesson. I mentioned out loud that I felt like passing out. Big mistake, considering my fourteen year old is consistently teetering on the verge of a panic attack. As she began her frenzied pleas that I please not pass out leaving her alone in this predicament, I assured her that I was only joking. I may have only been slightly joking. I can now see the wisdom in carrying a 72 hour kit in your vehicle. Any little snack might have helped at the time. A Twix and a Dr. Pepper might have helped tremendously. To stock the van with both items is on my to-do list. 

We did have plenty of gas and were able to keep warm in the van. Just as we began to lose hope and considered tromping back to Cathy's house to ask if we might have a slumber party at her house, Sabrina noticed a faint shadow approaching us yonder through the blizzard. Could it be? "Mom, it's him! It's Dad! Look I recognize his hat!" There he was, my hero coming up over the hill, dressed to the hilt in all his winter gear. You see, he had come straight from the office, but he was prepared.

He opened the van door. First words out of his mouth?..."Who's mocking the hat now?!" There was no mocking in this van. Nothing but hurrahs could be heard for our knight in arctic snow gear had come to save us from a certain doom. 

He tried driving the van forward...only spinning and sliding ensued...validation indeed. After referring to the map on his phone, he determined that going down the hill would eventually lead us to Antelope drive. I looked at him like he was a mad man, but kept my comments to myself knowing that Sabrina was sitting back there just waiting for an excuse to have an anxiety attack.

He slowly backed the van so that we were facing downhill,then began the descent. There was one point that we all sat in tense silence as the van slid down the hill. Neil couldn't stop, it was obvious. Our only saving grace was that he had the van in a low enough gear that he could at least steer. He avoided the snow plow that was stuck on one side of the road, yes, you heard me right, the snow plow was stuck. And he avoided the minivan that was stuck on the other side. And somehow we made it onto Antelope Drive. It was still slow-going to get home, but the roads were manageable on Antelope. We stopped and picked up some Cafe Rio on the way home. There's nothing like some chips and salsa to bring up that blood sugar. 

It was a three hour fiasco, but we walked through the door safe and sound and with a delicious chicken salad and some burritos to inhale while we discussed our evening's adventure with the kids. And what about the car you ask?...it spent 24 hours in that lonely church parking lot at the top of the hill. A coworker took Neil to it the next afternoon. The snow plows had completely buried the poor thing into it's parking stall. Neil eventually got it home, and yes, got it some new tires the very next day.

And that, my friends, is why you always wear your fur hat to work, never drive with bald tires, and always keep a stash of candy bars and soda in your van.