Slow down, people!

I live at Dewart Lake. So for the past couple weeks I have been driving approximately 15 miles one way to work each day over some pretty nasty road conditions.

But that's OK. I can deal with that. I can keep my car on the road. I have a pretty heavy old, rear-wheel drive sedan. It goes pretty good as long as the snow isn't too deep.

So me getting around isn't so bad. I made it to work every day. It's all the nut cases I see out sharing the roads with me that blow my mind.

I mean really.

One morning on the way to work I was driving down a snow-narrowed, ice-glazed county road at approximately 38 mph. It's about 6:45 a.m. and there is snow blowing around. I feel like I am flying, like I'm living on the edge of control. At any second I could be in a skid, headed toward the snow bank. My eyes are glued to the 1.5-lane road in front of me, both hands clutching the wheel. I am leaning forward in my seat as if this somehow makes it easier to see the road.

Then, suddenly, I notice a pair of headlights in my rearview mirror.

They are racing toward me at an alarming rate. I feel the need to speed up, but I refuse to do so, more out of fear than obstinacy.

The next thing I know the lights are one car length behind me. Then the headlights veer to the left and I am being passed by a 3500 extended cab, 4x4, dually, turbo diesel something or other.

The thing has to be going 60 mph. In order to pass me, the driver must plow through half a lane of snow a foot-and-a-half deep. This, apparently, is no problem for this driver. Snow flies everywhere as he blasts through the snow-covered passing lane.

As he whips his vehicle back into the lane in front of me, he gets a little sideways. He slightly overcorrects and gets a little sideways the other direction. Then he straightens things out and roars off into the predawn oblivion.

The whole thing is over in a matter of seconds. Ten seconds after that, the truck's taillights have disappeared ahead of me in the blowing snow.

A strange, unlikely occurrence, you say. Not so. This happened to me at least a half dozen times during what will forever be known as the blizzard of '99.

In one incident, I had my "doors blown off" by a fresh new sport utility vehicle. A few minutes down the road I encountered the very same SUV stuck in a drift after sliding off the road. I had a shovel in the trunk, along with a pair of insulated coveralls, a trapper hat and some really warm gloves. I could have stopped and dug him out.

But you know what? I decided not to be a good Samaritan that morning.

Don't get the wrong impression. I am not a wimpy driver. Over the years I've owned some pretty snappy and/or gutsy vehicles. So it's not like I'm the little old lady who only drives to church on Sunday. But when the roads are as bad as they have been lately, I slow way down.

Not some of these SUV owners. And the roads are crowded with SUVs these days. I think those vehicles lull their owners into a false sense of security.

There was a special on TV the other day about SUVs in Chicago. They showed SUV drivers acting like they were invincible, trying to bore through anything Mother Nature could deliver. One guy did $14,000 in damage to his Lexus SUV's transmission trying to get unstuck from a snow drift.

Dumb de dumb dumb.

Four-wheel drive is wonderful. But there's this thing called ground clearance that's a really big factor. If you try to drive through snow that's much deeper than the space between the road and the frame of your vehicle, (give or take a few inches) you can still get stuck.

The snow supports the frame above the road and all four wheels are there dangling and spinning. More than a few 4x4s were yanked out of deep snow by tow trucks over the past couple weeks.

And here's something you may want to consider. The more something weighs, the longer it takes to stop. It's a simple matter of physics.

Anti-lock brakes are great. But if you're driving something that weighs almost 6,000 pounds on glare ice, you could have 12 wheels all happily anti-locking and it would still take you a quarter mile to stop.

The key quite simply is to slow down. Take your time. Life's too short.

I said earlier that I made it to work every day. That's true, but I had a little help one day. That first Monday after the big blizzard, CR 500E hadn't been plowed. It was impassable. I called Times-Union General Manager Norm Hagg. He said the plow had been past his house and he thought he could get to work.

I figured if I could just get to Norm's house, everything would work out OK. I fired up my 1972 Ski Doo snowmobile. I roared off into the abyss.

Everything was going great. I was happily scooting along when about a half-mile west of Tippecanoe Country Club, the sled died. I was taken by how silent it was just then. I was all alone.

Two degrees. Big wind. Three miles from home. Five miles from Norm's. The snowmobile wouldn't start. I had a phone in my pocket so I called Norm and told him not to expect me. I dragged the dead sled off the road and started to walk home. Just past the country club on the way back, a guy in one of those 4x4 pickups with a plow on the front stopped to ask me if I needed help.

I was pleased to see the driver was Bob Petro of Petro's GM Showplace. I hopped in a nice, warm pickup and got a ride all the way to the front door of the Times-Union.

I might add that Bob drove slowly, deliberately and cautiously that morning. (That seemed a little out of character for him.)

But it proves those 4x4 drivers aren't all bad, doesn't it? [[In-content Ad]]