Breaking the Ice and Venturing Out

6:30 PM

When it became apparent that we would run out of milk within the day, I started to think about peeling the ice off my car so that I could leave and drive to the grocery store. I had been watching the progress of the traffic on the nearby road, which was clear enough to allow for cars traveling both directions. The ice breaking under the snow plow as it traveled down the side road today was a loud and continuous crunch that lasted a few minutes until it was beyond earshot, the dump truck making its way slowly down the neighborhood road. I dreaded going out there. Dressing in layers and pulling my winter boots, gloves, and hat on, I made my way slowly to the car. Everything was a solid sheet of ice. The snow made it look deceptive--but there it was, nonetheless, a few inches of snow completely encased in solid ice above and below. I hoped that I wouldn't have to struggle to get the car door open. Luckily, the door opened right up and, once I had it started and the defrost going in the front and the rear, I took the ice scraper and began working it under the edge of the ice, where it met the metal of the car. Thank goodness my car is a thousand years old and still made of metal. The first chunk broke and shot towards me as I pried upward on the scraper. I used my fingers to get under the edge of the ice/snow/ice layers and pulled. The layers must have been nearly two and a half inches thick, breaking off in large chunks from the whole sheet of thick snow and ice that encrusted the entire top of my car. Working quickly in the cold air, I made my way around the outside of the car, removing all of the ice by prying it up piece by piece with the scraper and my gloved fingers. By the time I was finished, my fingers were wet and cold and I was ready to go back inside to get warm. I would venture out before it got dark, but not quite yet. 

When it was time to finally head to the grocery store, once inside my car, in reverse, the tires just spun on the inches of ice that were underneath the car. I almost gave up. And then I realized that I just needed a little traction. I put the car in drive and inched forward a bit, hearing the crunch of ice breaking under my tires, just what I needed to hear--and braked, put the car in reverse and hit the gas, going a little faster than I would have normally, and finally broke free of the ice I couldn't initially get past, and finally hit the scraped part of the parking lot. It was still deceptively slick in the places where it looked wet, the salt and sun having melted the ice somewhat only for it to refreeze again, dangerously slick and thin across large sections of the lot. Anything that looks wet is definitely slippery in this weather. 

Where the snow plow had gone through, snow was piled along the sides of the road, sometimes in large piles at the corners where the road met the parking lot entrances. Slush on the road and in the parking lots here and there made the navigation of town a little more precarious than a normal day. There were quite a few people out on the roads, but everyone seemed to be going slower, taking their time, watching out for one another as they made their way through the streets made narrower but the plowed snow along the edges. 

In the grocery store, a yellow plastic 'Caution! Wet Floor' sign greeted customers at the doorway, where small puddles of water were scattered along the floor at the entrance, tracked in by so many shoes. I had given up my boots for a pair of tennis shoes and had been creeping across the patches of ice between the car and the store's entrance. People in their winter gear, galoshes and boots, hats and huge sweatshirts, were milling about the store, pushing carts, stocking up on what they needed. When I made it to the milk section, I was shocked to see that it was very nearly empty. I took one of the last cartons of milk and decided that this would have to do for now. Hopefully they would have another delivery soon.

The return was much easier than the departure, and, upon returning, I became one of those people who back into their parking spots. I completely ignored where the lines were on the parking lot, not only because they were completely covered in snow and ice, but also because I needed to be on a piece of ground that hadn't been driven over yet. This way I would have enough traction to ease off the ice and onto the plowed part of the lot and make my way out. I'm ready for tomorrow's adventure.