It's after sunset and almost 68 degrees inside. Outside, the temperature is in the teens above zero, until you factor in the wind. And out here, you always have to factor in the wind. The wind out here blows unimpeded across the roadways, converting the scant snow that fell overnight into tiny pellets that literally sandblast icy roads until they shimmer under frozen sunshine.
Today, we passed quite a few drivers who, we presume, sped their way into a tough spot: the ditch. When you're driving on glare ice, however, it's difficult to know how fast is too fast until it's too late. After our close call on the S-curve, I would have preferred we not take to the roads again. But, we had an appointment at the auto shop in town to get a new battery, so, after the furnace repairman left, we dropped the trailer and rolled the dice again. We took the S-curve at a crawl.
On open stretches, every time I spied Jim's speedometer climbing above 40 MPH, I reminded him that I didn't want to die today.
"Not today?" he asked.
"Not today," I replied. "Not in the cold. Not in the truck. Not in the ditch or by the force of an oncoming vehicle."
"Okay," he assured me.
And now, here I sit. Typing. And the furnace works. So, from the safety of an old farmhouse I send these gentle reminders, dear hearts: Drive slower. Brake when you approach ice, not when you reach it. If you skid, ease off the accelerator, and gently turn into the skid. Stay calm. Pray. I don't want you to die today either. Not in the cold.
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