PLYMOUTH, Minn. -- I was gonna make it.
Head swiveled around to the rear and with my foot on the gas, my black sedan, rolling with not one, not two or even three but four new tires, was slicing through the snow, in reverse. Unable to go forward, my front wheel drive car was punching through the door-high snow, making a 75-yard dash for the freedom of the freshly-plowed through street.
I was gonna make it.
There was no need for actual snow boots or a shovel. Fact is I couldn't remember the last time I got stuck driving in Minnesota. After shoveling the driveway by hand, so as not to wake the neighbors, I rolled down the driveway and smashed into the unplowed drive street upon which I live. I swung the rear of the car to the west and rolled backwards trying to create a track upon which I could build up momentum to go forward and out of my neighborhood. Feeling like I had gone far enough, I put on the brakes, put the car in drive, and started forward.
I wasn't gonna make it.
Despite my plan it became quickly evident that I didn't have enough ground clearance to stay in the tracks, and my front-wheel drive couldn't pull the rest of the car through the foot-plus of snow, waiting to ensnare it, time to come up with "Plan B." I turned around, put my right arm on the passenger seat, craned my neck, and stepped on the gas. Bingo!
I was gonna make it.
The car rolled back on the tracks it has made in my aborted attempt to go forward and gathered momentum. I could see the freshly plowed street at the intersection, but between my car and that goal was the wall of snow left by the plow, and the only way to get through that was to roll right through it and my car was on a roll. I just needed to avoid interference from any oncoming vehicles and I could do it.
I was gonna make it.
I pried my eyes from the track and looked to the south. It was a divided street, and the only impediment would have to come from that direction. It was 3:30 in the morning, so, what were the odds that a vehicle would come along at just the right time to stop my progress? I don't know what the odds may have been, but just as I was getting ready to step down on the gas I saw the unmistakable glare of headlights coming towards me.
I wasn't gonna make it.
I put on the brakes and slowed to a slight roll. The oncoming truck was part of the manic fleet of entrepreneurs who run amok during the night of overnight snowfalls, plowing driveways and parking pots of private businesses, while the "normal people" are still asleep. I had witnessed two of his brethren come and go while I shoveled my driveway by hand. I had made the decision not to run my snow blower so as not to wake the neighbors, only to watch these guys drive up and back madly, with no similar thought in mind. Already jealous how quickly and effortlessly they could do what I had struggled through, now, my momentum was gone, done in by a really bad bout of timing.
I could still make it.
With the coast now clear I put the car back into drive and inched forward as far as I could, then put the car back in reverse and stepped on the gas. The car pushed back along the tracks and gamely slid into the wall of snow. As the car began to slow I applied more gas and tried to keep it straight until... I was stuck. I tried to put the car back into drive and go forward, then back in reverse. It was in this manner that I attempted to "rock" the car free, the way I had been taught, back in circa 1978. It did no good, I was stuck.
I didn't make it.
I got out of the car, wearing my mid-cut Nike boots, and waded through snow that required full winter boots instead. I stepped gingerly to the back of the car only to discover that I was a foot and a half from freedom. As I contemplated walking back 75-yards through the snow in my non-snow boots, to go and get the shovel I didn't bring with me, I was another set of headlights approach. It was another truck with another plow on front, I was saved! Or not. I could only watch as the truck rolled right past without so much as slowing. What did I expect? I wasn't a paying customer.
I could still make it.
I began to dig. Not with winter gloves of course, but rather with my driving gloves. I stepped back and forth through the snow, my socks getting wet as I went in and out of the car, rocking it back and forth, inching the car to freedom. I was probably out there for a total of 15-minutes. Do you think any other vehicles came by during that time period?
Of course not.
As my car broke free of its' snow confinement I had just one thought on my mind; "I'm gonna make it!" Nah! It was, "I'm gonna be late."
(Copyright 2011 by KARE. All Rights Reserved.)