In the words of the Rankin and Bass classic Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, “It hit!”
We knew snow would come yesterday, but nobody predicted how much and nobody was ready.
I was one of the very luckiest. I held my afternoon class, and then walked as fast as I could in the heavy snow to the PATH station. I got to Hoboken and by a miracle, despite the crowds studying the screens with dismay, found that my train was ready to go–track assigned and all. I found it, got on, and right on time we left. A short delay at Secaucus allowed a good crowd to pile on.
I didn’t yet know that the Port Authority was closed. A neighbor took the express bus out at 3:30 PM and didn’t arrive home till 11 (six hours late). The PA was closed down at 5:15, long before my usual bus home. How fortunate that I’d chosen the train this time–an instinct told me to avoid the bus.
Getting off at the usual stop was out of the question, though–my ride had been defeated by the treacherous mountain road, a mass of spun-out cars. So it was on to the next stop, which meant a longer but smoother drive. It was still a white-knuckler, with more than one turn executed as a controlled skid. Driving down a dark country road with lakes on either side was challenging, and the guard rails offered scant comfort.
But sure enough, patience and care saw us back safe.
Today the snow has been steadily melting, and the roads will all be clear. Still, what a gratuitous nightmare. Last winter was nearly unbearable, as far as traveling to the city was concerned. I’m not happy that we’re right back to the misery and it’s still a week till Thanksgiving. (For the past two falls, it’s been quite mild through New Year’s. Not this time.) Snowfall this decade has been notably high, at least where I have lived.
Perhaps an ice age is coming after all. I’m sure that if it does come, the people who have insisted for years that “snow will be a thing of the past” will promptly announce “we told you so.”