You know what is a really good feeling? The four-wheel-drive engaging on my pickup and taking aholt of the snow. Stuck and awaiting rescue? Not this girl!
I went to college in Bozeman, Montana for my junior year, and the campus is built on a hill. The whole thing froze over in November and didn’t completely thaw until June (so I heard – I was gone by then). In Montana, they say they have nine months of winter and three months of company. Partial thaws during the winter left uneven ice-and-snow ruts several inches thick. You couldn’t see the lines in the parking lot; everyone just roughly lined up parallel to the first vehicle in the mornings.
Some girls insisted on wearing heels, and they slipped and fell on the ice on a daily basis. I never laughed – not until I was around the corner, anyway. I wasn’t afraid to wear my Schnee’s snow packs to class, and I bought a huge down ski coat, even though I don’t ski. I just felt stylish wearing a powder skirt.
The school maintained heated ponds, so trudging beside me through the fresh powder on my way to Managerial Accounting would be a duck. My first day on campus, I drove past the black and yellow “Duck Crossing” sign and saw the mangled, bloody carcass of a duck lying at the base of the wooden post. Poor things couldn’t catch a break; they were either roadkill or walking through the snow thinking “What the hell?”
I’m back in cold weather country here in Northern Nevada. During a November snowstorm, three of us rode through 1,800 weaner calves. I faced the meadows, shut my eyes, and declared them all healthy. Wishful thinking! As we rode through the wind and wet snow, Ty mentioned that I’d been unusually quiet that morning.
“I have nothing positive to add to the conversation,” replied, returning all my energy to generating body heat.
The cold really isn’t so bad, as long as a person is dressed for it and doesn’t value their extremeties. That’s easy to say from my seat on the couch beside the wood stove. For all you cowboys out there feeding cows and doctoring stuff on the big frozen slip ‘n slide we call “the ground,” you have my admiration. You’re crazy, but I like it 🙂