Dan, my husband, thinks he's a great winter driver. He never misses an opportunity to point out that he was raised driving in the snow. The town where he grew up receives several inches of snow every winter. According to Dan, his hometown has produced many wonderful winter drivers.
I tend to question his "snowy towns produce skilled winter drivers" theory. For example, Dan once told me about a friend of his who developed his driving skills in this same town. One blustery morning, Dan's friend slammed on the brakes while driving down an icy country road at fifty miles a hour just to see if he needed to turn on the four wheel drive. Apparently, he did because he slid off the road, slamming into the fence of a nearby farm and landing in a ditch. Of course, once he realized his car was totaled, he decided that turning on the four wheel drive would be futile. Now, that's logic for you.
Dan also admitted to me that he follows a similar practice. He peels out of our driveway on snowy mornings to gauge the road's iciness. When I remind him about what happened to his friend, he explains that peeling out at five miles an hour and slamming on the brakes at fifty miles an hour are two different situations. Thanks for the clarification.
Dan doesn't like to use four wheel drive. He says, "If you get stuck in four wheel drive, you're really stuck." I thought he created that cute maxim all by himself until I heard his father say the exact same thing one winter.
Nevertheless, Dan likes to wait until the last possible second to turn on the four wheel drive. He calls four wheel drive false security. I happen to like security, whether it's false or not.
A few weeks ago, while driving on the snow blanketed roads to Tamarack, we began to fishtail as we approached one of the many ominous curves around the mountain.
"Don't you think you should turn on the 4x4?" I asked.
"There's still pavement showing. You don't need to use 4x4 when pavement is still visible," was the calm reply.
A moment later, we began to slide again. This time the car started beeping. What genius invented that safety feature? Dan and I were well aware that we were going into a spin.
"All You Need is Love" blared over the stereo speakers.
"All You Need is 4x4 . . ." I started to sing.
"Don't worry," Dan said as he got the car under control. "I slowed down because I knew we were sliding."
"And what was your first clue?" I asked.
He did eventually turn on the four wheel drive.
I discovered that wasn't much better. When the car's in four wheel drive, he often takes both hands off of the steering wheel to fix his sunglasses or drink his cocoa or adjust his seat. I guess it's that false sense of security thing.
I know I have just made my husband sound like a lunatic driver. But, if you haven't already guessed from my previous postings, I freak out over pretty much everything. The truth is, when given the option, I always choose to ride with my husband during the wintertime.
Number one, I don't want anyone else to see my true neurotic tendencies. Number two, I don't want to have to drive on those icy roads myself. Number three, in spite of all I've just said, he really is a great winter driver.
