[Garth Herrick]

Cynthia, thanks for that SALT TRUCK joke!

During the famous blizzard of January, '96, my wife and I foolishly made a trip home from Maine, down I-95, throughout the entire blizzard! We drove that same old Peugeot in the picture below (it certainly was no Jeep though), It took us nineteen hours of non-stop driving. Leaving NYC and entering the top of the NJ Turnpike, at first we attempted to straddle the deep tracks of some 18-wheeler, which was not easy. Eventually through the whiteout haze, as through a tunnel, we saw some faint light ahead. Catching up to that light, it turned out to be a diagonal bank of six plow trucks clearing two lanes of the highway at once at about 10 mph. Soon a dozen or more 18-wheeler trucks ganged up behind us and bullied us to disappear so they could bust on through the plow truck bank. Within minutes this actually happened, and we were once again alone crawling behind those plow trucks.

After another half an hour we got the nerve to bust through them too, which made for some VERY dangerous driving. It soon became apparent we were in fact the ONLY passenger car still running this turnpike highway, for the entire length of New Jersey! There were NO oncoming headlights at all, ...how strange! Well we hobbled on down to the junction of the Pennsylvania Turnpike and I pulled out the $4.00 to pay the toll-taker. The toll-taker opened his hatch, looking a little perplexed. He told us there would be NO TOLL as the NJ Turnpike is CLOSED! Furthermore PENNSYLVANIA IS CLOSED! We were told we could park and leave our car in the toll booth! How strange!!

I asked the toll-taker about another entrance to Pennsylvania, the Ben Franklin suspension bridge into Philadelphia from Camden. He said he did not know if it was open or not, but drive down and find out if we wanted! So we did.

Exiting the Turnpike (for free) to Rt. 38 toward Camden, we passed numerous motels and hotels, each with their entrances plowed over 4 feet high! The road itself was a mere 8 1/2 feet wide plowed canyon, barely wide enough to navigate. Eventually we found a path to the Ben Franklin Bridge. The toll-taker there was astonished! He said where in the heck did we come from? In over three hours he had seen no one! He restated that the State of Pennsylvania was closed, but if we stayed to the main city streets, he would wish us well on our illegal adventure into our home state. So we did....

Entering Philadelphia as the ONLY vehicle on the streets was indeed strange! Only the main artery, Market Street was plowed, but however with two foot tall packed plow-line barriers across each intersection. The traffic signal lights were all red, but we did not care, and I proceeded to rev the Peugeot up and ram it's way through each successive plow barrier, block by city block.

To make a very long story abbreviated, it took us another four hours to reach the next ten miles home, whereupon it took us an hour to dig a hole to park our car. At this point the snow was a mere 30 inches deep, and every other parked car was completely concealed under a smooth mantle of snow. The day was January 8th, 1996, my birthday. My wife and I slept through the next day and a half, only to be awakened by angry frustrated neighbors, who were upset we did not help out in the group effort to dig open a grand canyon opening down the street. Even that next day, we STILL had the only car that was essentially dug out! I tried to explain the circumstances; that we had just driven down from Maine through the entire duration of the blizzard. Did anyone believe us, and our seemingly absurd story? Well, NO!

It was an unforgettable blizzard driving experience!

Keep warm,

Garth