It’s raining here again, two days and two nights straight, temperatures around freezing, no sun. January has been an even worse version of December, wet and cold and cheerless. But seriously, folks. Who can complain when we turn on the television and look at the rest of the country; numbing temperatures from Canada to the Georgia border, semis sliding down the turnpikes, fuel shortages leaving people freezing in their homes? It’s like a luau on the beach down here compared to that. Especially in places like:
Atlanta: They Tore Down Paradise And Put Up A Parking Lot
They don’t handle bad weather very well in Atlanta, never have. It doesn’t snow a whole lot so the city opts not to spend a fortune on snow removal equipment, a perfectly reasonable approach unless you’re one of the legion of citizens mightily inconvenienced on those occasions when a few inches do suddenly show up. No matter. Next day, the sun comes out, the snow melts and everybody has a big ha-ha telling one another stories of The Great Snowfall Of Aught Eight. Tuesday, however, was another matter.
Sighting storm clouds in the distance, big ones at that, the Solomonic Elders of Atlanta decided it might be a nice gesture to let all the kids in school go home early. Nice plan, so far. Then, somebody thought it might be a good idea to close all the government offices, too. Oh, and what the hell—let’s just shut down most of the businesses to complete the trifecta. Trouble is, nobody told Peter what Paul was doing. Everybody closed up at the same time. Now, under the best of circumstances, Atlanta’s highway network is a nightmare. Knowing this, however, people plan their travel to circumvent the worst of it. Out-of-towners, for instance, are generally aware that you go around or through the city between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. Local businesses stagger their shifts so people can depart at various times throughout the late afternoon and evening. Atlantans know every shortcut and back alley they can negotiate to stay off the highways. The daily grind is slow but sure.
Now dawns Tuesday. In addition to the massive amount of traffic caused by the simultaneous exodus of thousands, the roads have frozen. People in the South have no idea what to do about this so they proceed as usual. Bad idea. The first time they use their brakes, the car spins like a pinwheel, often into a ditch or somebody else’s nice vehicle. When one car does this, it’s an inconvenience. When ten do it, it’s a disaster. When a hundred do it, well, welcome to the Interstate 75 Parking Lot. This might be a good time for:
Uncle Bill’s Tips For Ice Driving:
1. Drive VERY slowly. We know it will take a LONG time to get wherever you’re going, but eventually you will get there. Don’t worry about time.
2. Keep a very long distance between your car and the one in front of you.
3. DO NOT BRAKE! Drive around obstacles as best you can.
4. If you absolutely must brake, do it very slowly, giving yourself at least a slight chance to slow or stop without spinning.
In Massachusetts and other snowy northern states, it may still be possible to use chains over your tires. If so, DO IT.
We had an ice problem here in 1986 or thereabouts, a rare happenstance. It was the 24th of December and the temperature was 11 degrees. That’s right—ELEVEN. At my farm in Orange Lake, we fed the horses in outside pens, each with a little gate held closed by a snap. On this morning, I had to hold a match beneath each snap to unfreeze the thing so it would open. I had 18 horses at the time. That’s a lot of frozen snaps. After that, I had to go down the street to the Volunteer Fire Department, the water in all my troughs being extremely frozen. The jolly firemen happily came out and filled them up. Try doing that in Philadelphia. Next, there was Christmas shopping in Gainesville, a mere 25 miles away. There would be no putting it off, the date being one day before Christmas. All the roads were frozen and when I reached the nearby town of Macintosh, people were sliding off Route 441 by the dozens. I slowed down to about 20 mph and remained about ten car lengths behind the nearest driver, eventually making it to the Gainesville Mall. When I got there, the walking was as bad as the driving. Little bitty steps or you were on your ass. When I got inside, I discovered the Interstate had just been closed. Hundreds of people were on the mall telephones, vainly looking for a place to stay. For a lot of them, that place was the mall itself, which took in tenants for one night. By the time I finished my shopping a couple hours later, the temps were around 30 and the ice was beginning to melt. I made it home alive, passing back through Macintosh where twice as many cars were now in the ditches. Nobody was sharing ha-has about their funny experiences the next morning.
Okay, so we’re all sympathetic with the poor winter commuters of Atlanta. But are they any worse off than the terrified guys below?
Attack Of The Giant Tumbleweeds
A weekend storm blew so many tumbleweeds into Clovis, New Mexico, that the military has been called in to help residents deal with the problem. I know, I know. “The big sissies!” you’re probably guffawing up your sleeve, but I am here to tell you this is a serious matter. Video from KOB-TV in Albuquerque shows tumbleweeds stacked up four feet high, blocking homes and streets in the Eastern New Mexico town. Local resident Wilford Ransom considers himself a tough guy, but listen what he has to say about the matter:
“We tried to get out of the house. The front door. The back door. Couldn’t do it. The doorways were both covered with tumbleweeds and we just couldn’t get out. I called 911. They said, ‘Wilford, you been into the hard stuff again?’”
Tumbleweeds, if you didn’t know, are formed when a plant dries up and snaps off at the stem, allowing the wind to push it along as it disperses seeds. The record drought in the Southwest has created optimal conditions for tumbleweed formation and led to the problem in Clovis. KOB reports that the tumbleweeds will be moved to a landfill and smashed down so they won’t tumble anymore. Sounds like a good idea to us.
Wilford? Are You In There? Wilford?
Meanwhile, Back In Atlanta….
Helicopters took to the skies Wednesday to search for still-stranded drivers while Humvees delivered food, water and gas—or a ride home—to weary commuters. Some students spent the night in school buses, commuters abandoned their cars or slept in them as interstates turned into parking lots. It wasn’t clear how many people were still stranded on the roads a day after the storm but by Wednesday afternoon, traffic began moving around Atlanta, however slowly. Despite having received only a few inches of snow in Atlanta, there were over 1000 accidents, mostly fender-benders. We think the city should bite the bullet and go out and hire somebody from Chicago or Minneapolis and start up a Department of Bad Weather. Northerners know what to do about these things. The small pittance spent on the bad weather officials would be more than compensated for by the decrease in accidents, towing expenses and bawling consumers. We know a guy you can hire: Minnesota Family Schweiss Captain Mike. You’ll have to fly him in, though. Why? Well, because….
Trouble Aloft!
Our old pal, Mike Schweiss, knows more than anybody about snow emergencies, chicken-plucking and folding garage doors but hardly anything about buying airplanes. Couple months ago, he sent the plane down here to pick up daughters (and Pathogenes employees) Lark and Autumn for a quick trip home. Thing never made it. Wound up several hundred miles short of Minnesota. Kids drove home. The other day, the plane was on its way back to Florida, carrying Mike and other family members. They stopped in Richmond, Kentucky to pick up another passenger and on departing lost an engine in flight. The plane caught fire and had to make an emergency landing in Lexington, greeted by a plethora of fire trucks and curious police. Mike got a TV interview out of the deal. Repairs were made and they started out once more. Uh uh. Conked out again.
I don’t know about you, but I am generally inclined to give a plane only one chance, as in ONE. if it can’t get the job done, ta-ta, I’m off to find another. Or a bus, even. I know, I would never make a good bush pilot in the Yukon where these things crash all the time and they bind them back together with a bit of twine and duct tape, but that’s just me. It’s all okay, though. We almost never need planes in snow emergencies. Somebody else can look out for the helicopters.
Weather Hampers Horse Training
Cosmic Flash was scheduled for his third work, three-eighths of a mile, yesterday at Eisaman Equine. It rained all the night before. And again last night. Hopefully, things will dry out by Saturday morning, we’re going to miss the Kentucky Derby at this rate. Bull Ensign, our two-year-old, is also scheduled for his second effort same day. Skies are expected to clear today, so here’s hoping.
Oh, and don’t think we’re not truly concerned with all of you poor unfortunates in northern climes. Especially since your terrible weather up there contributed to recent Fedex and UPS delays with incoming Pathogenes packages. The employees over there are sitting around playing mahjong and painting the offices, nothing better to do, and we have to pay them for it. Hey, Daddy—is it Spring yet?
That’s all, folks….
