Snow: A four-letter word that terrifies some and delights others. I have lived in Michigan all my life and have witnessed and participated in snowfalls for decades. The recent “bomb cyclone” was a stark reminder of what it means to live in Michigan, but it was another snow event that we had to manage on our own terms.
As a young man growing up in Oakland County, big snow was always fun. After the storm, snowball fights, snow forts, and sledding were high on the agenda, but not until the sidewalks and driveways were cleared. We kids provided all the power a shovel could handle. For me, a job like that was a challenge, but no one had to kick us out the door or take a bribe to get the job. It was a fun job. I still do.
By the 1970s, he was operating a variety of snowplows, from snowplows to tractors and trucks, as part of his duties managing and maintaining a large multi-dwelling community. The challenge was to get up before everyone else and clear the sidewalks, parking lots and roads so the working people could get to work.
Now retired from that life, my 1956 Allis-Chalmers Model IB (Industrial Model B), complete with a 6-foot front snowblade, tire chains, and wheel weights, is what Mother Nature does to me. We can handle anything that gets in our way. Fully restored, this little beast is ready to fire with a 12-volt electrical system and electronic ignition. After completing the plowing work, another task was at hand. That means feeding the birds from a distance.
Having a hut with a bird feeder in the woods is great fun, but a huge number of winter visitors have turned to the sunflower seed mixture. Once food is established, we understand that it is the duty of people to keep seeds in their feeders, especially in the throes of winter. I didn’t.
The wind-blown snow on Christmas Day created another challenge just getting to the feeders. My truck was disqualified for his 2 wheel drive only, so I considered ATV or walking. I decided to go on a four-wheeler and packed as much as I could. A fierce westerly wind was blowing, but it progressed slowly.
Then we had to navigate the vast fields. There was a noticeable drift on the east side of the field, so I drew a line that didn’t look like there was much accumulation. But like water on the road, it’s impossible to know its depth. I knew right away, as I throttled the car and gained some momentum. The ATV was unable to get through what turned out to be a four foot drift.
The wheels were about a foot off the ground when I got stuck. Without a shovel, I had three options. Hike to the house, hike the rest of the way to the feeder, or work to retrieve it. With only gloved hands, the digging began. After about 30 minutes, the car settled on the ground, but the snow got deeper as we moved forward. With a great deal of persistence, I backed the ATV and nudged it down the road it came in.
My glasses were completely fogged up, but I blew a couple more drifts on the way to the feeding station. It actually landed on the feeder before I finished hanging it on the tree.