Hidden Danger

Yesterday’s snow, all two inches of it, mostly melted or turned to slush beside the road, the temperature rising to about thirty-four. By morning it had fallen to twenty, and I went downstairs to see what Jerry and Sandy were doing.

She sat there silent with flushed face, holding her coffee like a baby, so unlike her cheerful self. “She hit a deer last night,” Jerry said. “Driving to Minneapolis, wrecked the car.”

“Is she injured?” I’ve heard how disastrous a deer collision can be. “She’s ok” he said, obviously still shaken ten hours after the accident. “She drove the car home, very slowly. It was hard to steer with the front wheel wobbling and rubbing on the fender.” She couldn’t use her cell phone; they don’t work outside of town, and decided, since she was only forty miles out, to drive back. I shared coffee with them, as I often do. He called their insurance company.

Snow began falling as we talked. I went back to my room and bundled up for a walk to the woods, southward toward the airport. I worried about the ice that might hide, camouflaged by new snow. The half inch of cover was not enough to render icy patches safe, but just enough to hide them. On previous days, I could see the ice patches and knew enough to go around them. Today I walked very carefully while in town, wanting to get out to the safe woods, where puddles of frozen water would be easy to see.

My first slip happened just a hundred feet from my door—a patch of ice on concrete, hidden under new snow. I didn’t fall, and used the experience as a lesson, analyzing what indicators I should learn to notice. People fall on ice every winter, and the results can be as disastrous as hitting a deer on the highway. I walked slowly and carefully, avoiding pavement wherever possible, choosing the friendly grass or dirt beside the road, though it was not easy to know the difference.






I was learning the signs of ice and thinking I could manage the situation. I walked more confidently as I started across the driveway leading into the car dealership. Suddenly I was on my back—an instant so short I can't remember any of it. I looked up into falling flakes, and lay there a while, thinking. “I am down. Am I hurt? I must have slipped on ice. Is this how it feels being shot? Was I shot? I landed on my pack, grateful for its soft cushion.” I rolled onto my side and felt no pain. Back on my feet, I slid on ice and went down before falling. As I crawled along, I brushed aside the snow and felt the film of ice on the concrete driveway. Looking back on what happened, I still could not predict that ice. I felt like crawling back home.



I was not far from the woods and could get there by going through a couple of back yards. Once under friendly trees and walking on rough ground, I felt safe. Snow began falling harder, and I could walk among the trees until enough snow fell that any ice would be too far down for slipping. I could cut through the forest over to Highway 53 which has a wide grassy shoulder and no paved driveways. I felt happy to have had a few mild days to learn these locations before having to learn them in a snowstorm. Also along Highway 53 is a café near the airport. If I stay there a while, perhaps more snow will fall and make for a safer walk through town.





I made it home after about six more inches of snow fell. I can’t say if it made the walking safer, only that I did not slip. I would like to say that I learned how be safe on a day like today, but I can’t. I will be wary of cold mornings after warm afternoons and after light snow has fallen. Beyond that, I have no sure method of walking safely in this condition.