Friday, 8 January 2010
a kind of liberation
It took me half an hour to liberate my car today. The frozen snow was about 20 cm all over it. I ran the engine, whacked the heater onto maximum and started scraping.
Then I dug out the wheels. A diagnostic message said something about take the car to the workshop to have the brakes checked. I suppose the ice has got inside the sensors.
Then I reversed it onto the road I'd dug yesterday. Slightly down hill, enough for the little yellow triangle stability signal to flash intermittently. Gingerly down the slope to the next level of road, which had become noticeably more slippery than yesterday. I needed to drive about another 300 metres to get to a bigger gritted and salted road.
I hadn't bargained on the sheer number of walkers who were splayed around the whole expanse ahead of me. More than when I'd been out yesterday or Wednesday. I suspect cabin fever had finally forced people to the streets. So instead of making my progress at a sedate 2-3 mph, I had to stop.
I knew this would be a bad thing.
The car got stuck. Luckily I'd brought a shovel so I could dig out the snow that had immediately formed around the front of the rear wheels. I moved the build up of ice and then three neighbours gave me a lengthy shove to get moving again.
End of the road. Glass surface but no traffic at the T junction so I could turn without stopping into the main road where I found proper grip. I've decided to leave the car on a main road now. The backpack, woolly hat, gloves and ski jacket came in useful for my walk back home.
As I passed the spot where I'd got stuck, I noticed another car parked there. It's wheels had sunk to around the level of the axles.
Here's Tori Amos fabulously singing about Winter. And fathers. And daughters.
Snow can wait, I forgot my mittens, Wipe my nose, get my new boots on.