Featured photo – Thom Holmes on Unsplash.
Story and below photos by Kevin Howell
I’m sitting here watching snow falling hard and blowing. Windchills are dropping, and I’m remembering other years of snow and winter driving excursions. Pondering past times, I realize I didn’t mind driving in snow so much when I was about 50 years younger.
Unless it’s like the Christmas of 2021. We had a little snow but drove out to Buttersville Beach south of Ludington. The day was sunny, temperatures were mild, and a light breeze was rolling the not-yet-frozen waves toward shore. The snowpack was minimal, and navigator Jean and I managed to find some cool rocks. That’s the kind of driving in snow I like these days.
I remember, though, driving in real snow ⸺ you know, up to your, um, rear in snow.
We had an old truck once, and our young son was with us. We drove through heavy, blowing snow after seeing family for the holidays. The tires were pretty shot, and it was a rear-wheel drive vehicle. Driving without sliding was a bit hairy. I had set of old tire chains and pulled over to slip them on. I guess I was too cold to get the clamps tight. Every few miles I’d hear a clunk, clunk, ching, and a chain went flying off. Those chains are probably still along the road, but they lasted long enough to get us home.
When I was more adventurous, I liked to take my 80-pound German Shepherd Mangas for a walk by a city golf course. I drove a different truck then, an old Ford 3/4 ton with big tires on it that, as usual, were getting a bit bare. I drove the truck down a slight hill and onto the snow-covered field. We had a nice walk, loaded in and proceeded to get the truck stuck. We couldn’t move more than a foot before the tires spun. Fortunately, I had a snow shovel. I got out, grabbed the shovel, and weighted the truck’s bed with a ton or two of snow. Off we finally went.
I try not to do those things anymore. Get stuck, that is. But I still like to get out in the snow to sightsee. Not so much for backroad drives. Not purposely. Which reminds me of another adventure.
We first learned about two-tracks when we were looking for a place to live here in Michigan. We didn’t know the roads around Manistee and Mason counties and took off to find a house for sale on one of the small lakes near there. Fortunately, that time we drove a small SUV with front-wheel drive. It had snowed recently, but the main roads were pretty cleared. We followed our phone’s Google maps thingy, which doesn’t seem to discern between two-lane paved roads and single lane two-tracks. The map led us off the paved road and onto a narrow track resembling a snow tunnel. It was one of those situations where you just keep driving and hope you don’t meet someone coming from the other direction. We finally came out the other end, located the house, which we didn’t buy, and found a paved road home. So much for Google maps.
We’re a little older and wiser about snowy roads these days (he said, tongue in cheek) and tend to wait for the plows.
Though, there was this one time last year. Tired of being cooped up, we decided to explore. We found a road with another house for sale and, out of curiosity, headed down a two-track. Yep, it was after another snowfall. We had to wait a minute for some guys to finish clearing a fallen tree, then we meandered on side streets in a lightly populated area.
Down one street the road began to narrow, but the navigator (she was driving) decided to keep going. A two-track followed power lines, and we thought it was a shortcut back to the main road. Instead, it led us onto woodsy, snow-covered dunes and got rougher. You know those two-tracks with no turnarounds? This was one. We managed to back up to a wide spot and attempted to turn. We landed sideways across the track, in a hollow that managed to put our car tires high enough off the surface that it was like floating in air, with the tires spinning.
This mishap called for a tow truck to first find us, using GPS, then figure out how to get our rears turned in the right direction. With a little maneuvering, and a lot of pushing and grunting from me and the tow driver, we were finally on our way. As we waited for the tow, we saw a “new” bird come wandering out of the trees to look us over. A grouse. Jean thought it was going to attack me, but I think it was just curious to see what these two idiots were doing there.
So, that brings us to this winter with the Christmas blizzard. We didn’t make it to a beach. We just hung at home watching the snow come down, NOT driving in it. And I swear, no more backroad stuck-in-the-snow days.
But, hey, it’s still a ways until spring, right?
Kevin Howell is a Mason County freelance writer. He loves the Michigan woods, lakes and especially Michigan craft beers ⸺ not necessarily in that order!
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