Heed Weather Alerts
This story is short. The weather service forecast a severe snow squall. I ignored it.
I stopped to make the photograph less than a minute after the snow began. It was still an interesting novelty and the full implication of what was about to happen hadn’t struck me yet. A few minutes later I couldn’t see. And a few minutes more it was almost impossible to proceed.
Riding in the winter, in snow, can be an interesting challenge. But not always. On this day, riding in a snow squall was a different beast entirely.
Clear Morning Ride
The day started simply enough, at least after I got past the cold and mounted the scooter. Despite the temperature being 27F when I left for work the sky was blue and my heart was warm. Sunshine has a marvelous effect of minimizing the cold. Or at least how I perceive it. In the winter I look at the weather forecast closely to assess what I’ll face during a ride. And more importantly, to determine if I’ll ride.
All systems were go with the only cold weather concern being the possibility of ice on the road. Adjusting focus for that possibility isn’t always easy, especially when it “feels” warm and looks warm. But experience has enough power to overcome delusion and scan for ice.
The meaning — slower speeds, especially in curves, and the assumption that ice could be anywhere. On this morning I didn’t see any ice on the road and was not required to give way to any traffic due to my lower velocity.
Familiar Territory
The route to work was familiar. My belief — I could ride it with my eyes closed. A few hours later on the way back to work from lunch I would test that theory. And learn a thing or two about riding in a snow squall.
The ride to work was lovely despite the cold. Earlier, while walking the dogs, I was not sure I even wanted to get on the scooter. The thought of putting on all the layers of gear, the wires for the electric gloves, and basically the preparation for the dance. I’ve not ridden enough sub-freezing rides this season to have a rhythm to putting on the gear. I make mistakes that require removing things. Like buttoning up the riding jacket only to realize I forgot to string the wires inside for my Gerbing Gloves.
The current preparation time for cold weather riding is close to ten minutes. Even longer if I use my new heated insoles. If I were riding frequently that time would drop to about five minutes. Especially if I don’t have to search for important components like my polypropylene balaclava.
The Beauty of Riding in the Snow
If Currier and Ives were etching images of scooters in the snow they might start with something like this.
I had gone home for lunch. I saw a weather alert declaring a severe snow squall would strike making travel hazardous. Scanning the list of counties I saw “southern Centre”. “We’re not southern,” I tell myself as I look at the sun shining outside. And off I went.
By the time I stopped to make this photograph ten minutes later, I was worried whether or not I would make it back to work or if I would have to abandon the scooter somewhere and walk. Or hole up for a while until the squall passed.
When the snow arrived I decided I had to get to my office fast. The snow was beginning to stick to the road and I was having more and more trouble seeing the road ahead of me due to the snow in the air and on my visor. I made the decision to turn onto the same farm lane I used earlier during my morning commute. It would eliminate concerns for other traffic and the gravel offered more traction.
Things went downhill from there.
Vespa Riding in a Snow Squall
This was the most intense snow I’ve ever ridden in. The snow was freezing to the helmet visor requiring a clawing action to remove it. Snow quickly plugged the air vents creating a foggy mist on the inside. Raising the visor to see quickly coated my glasses not to mention the stinging crystals of ice driven into my face from a strong wind.
But I could ride this route with my eyes closed. So on I went. And despite my eyes being wide open I couldn’t keep the Vespa on the gravel road. Twice I found myself in the pasture and I was moving extremely slowly to make sure I didn’t run into a fence. Part of me felt exhilarated at the challenge while the angels of my better nature were berating me for being a jerk again.
I managed to reach the pavement of the parking lot near a baseball field. I know exactly where I am. And then I sense the road is taking me into the woods. There are no woods here. The surroundings aren’t familiar. I have no idea where I am. For the first time in a long, long time I feel lost.
A FedEx truck passes me and I decide to turn around and follow hoping I’m led to the main road. The turn is tricky because the road is snow covered and slippery. I don’t have the winter tires on the Vespa. I’m completely unprepared for the situation.
Reaching the main road near Beaver Stadium I see the FedEx truck waiting. It’s almost impossible to see anything in a near whiteout. Cars appear out of the white and disappear again. The truck disappears and with great difficulty I edge near the road. I have almost no traction. I can’t move into the road with any speed at all.
So I’m forced to spin around and creep into a parking lot and park with my back to the wind and snow. With the heat gloves on high, I try to regroup and make a plan of attack to go the final mile to my office.
Five minutes later the visor is relatively clear of snow and I sense a softening of the blowing snow. Not sure if that’s true but I want to believe it. The plan — ride straight across the road to the other side and not try to make a turn in the snowy grease on the road. Once on the other side I can creep along a bicycle lane or even move on to the sidewalk if necessary.
Emerging from the Snow
A quick self-portrait before seeking the warmth of my office. The snow drove hard into every part of the helmet because of the need to continually open the visor to clear fog and snow. The rest of me was dry and warm. The First Gear Kilimanjaro IV riding jacket did it’s job.
By the time I left the office four hours later the snow was gone though the roads had patches of ice from the earlier snow. More riding decisions to make weighing speed, traffic and likelihood of ice.
Ice Build-Up
The ride home was without incident. Before I left an email went out from administration warning of bad roads, closings and accidents. Was not sure what I would encounter but was relieved to find the traffic light, the roads clear with only an occasional patch of ice near the road edges, and a fine ride to end the work week.
In the driveway I noticed the ice build-up on the front fender and reflectors. There was more on the wheel and brakes and ice on the floorboards. Reminders of a brief encounter with a sudden snow squall.
I’ve had enough of winter.
Wow. Glad you got through that one OK, sounded extremely scary and dangerous. Considering that I already find it impossible to ride in strong rain (visor issues), I do not even want to imagine how you must have felt. Again: Glad you’re safe.
It wasn’t scary but the ride was a bit precarious. Luckily, I’ve had enough experience in snow to be able to make some choices. Poor visibility can be disconcerting. I was definitely challenged.
How to turn your commute into an adventure! The slick, wet snow doesn’t sound like much fun. The visor visibility problems sound familiar but a real winter helmet does eliminate most of them. Motorcycle helmets aren’t designed for winter use. Glad you made it through without incident..
I can sympathize with your last sentence. Time for Spring….
It’s an adventure I won’t forget. Had I know how bad it would get I would not have chosen to ride the Vespa.
And yes, it IS time for SPRING!
When I saw you leaving yesterday I thought it was a cold day for a ride. Never imagined you were out it that mess earlier. I watched it from my office window and was glad I was inside. Glad you made it safely. Surely made for a good story!
What really made the ride difficult was the fact that I was preoccupied thinking about potentially stories for the magazine on animal science research.
Le grand Steve Williams dans toute sa splendeur !!! J’avais raison, tu étais juste fatigué ! Sans hiver, pas d’été et pas de belles photos comme toi seul c’est les faire.
The great Steve Williams in all its splendor! I was right, you were just tired! Without winter, no summer and no beautiful pictures as you alone is to do.
I’m getting back into the groove!
Laurent, quel beau sentiment à l’égard de Steve, un homme remarquable qui nous fait vivre de vrais aventures grâce à son attitude tout à fait téméraire à l’égard de la météo hivernale!
Je trébuche sur l’aventure …
They closed RT80 after that snow storm. It sure was pretty though. I think the airport stopped operating during that period too. There were big lines at the airport after the snow lifted. I forgot that the issue is mostly that you can’t see well out of the helmet because of fog and sticky snow. Remember how poor the defroster was in your 1966 Ford Falcon? People were continuously wiping the inside of the windshield.
I’ll have you know that I had a ’62 Ford Falcon. Four door, three on the tree, 144 cubic inch inline six cylinder powerhouse. Vacuum wipers, manual choke, and more. The defroster was great though!
Well, at least you got some great pictures, had an adventure and most importantly, made it safely. I was out splitting wood and rather enjoying the lesser snow squalls. Then the big one hit with a surprise! What’s this about a ’66 Falcon?
Snow does make for good photographs. Almost as good as fog. The big squall was a surprise to me too.
1962 Falcon. My first car.
Wow. You did it. You’ve still got it. 🙂
This shows the difference a hundred air miles can make: over here in Asbury, we had the lightest dusting of a fine, dry powder…barely worth a mention. Wasn’t on the scoot at the time – was riding with Sig. Other to Gotham for an art opening. I was chafing from the sudden return of subfreezing temps. Yep, electric gauntlets coming for next Winter.
I mucked my way through. A puzzle to work through. I’m chafing at the return of cold weather too. I want warm air.
Oh Boy!. Been through a similar storm and not that long ago.
The snow appears suddenly and usually is isolated, not that large in area however enough of a storm to really mess with any vehicles (including a Vespa) so trapped.
I would leave the visor cracked at the bottom just enough to removed condensation
from the inside and yet allow you to use an index finger to wipe the visor clean; that’s how i did it when riding.
And yes this form of riding is damn scary, driving too. I think of the idiots who fly past me, driving a truck with red fog lamps to the rear (they look like brake lights however a half the intensity) and orange four way emergency lights flashing when driving in such a storm.
Problem is either the road surface freezes and/or the snow settles, and sticks as you discovered.
Then too you have seniority so I doubt if anybody would have been bent out of shape
if you were late returning from lunch, after all you’re the nut driving the Vespa in this weather.
As to defrosters on mid-1960’s vehicles, I don’t think any of the vehicles then were any good at clearing the inside of a steamed window; basically you drove with a window open, and air blasting from somewhere. My 1965 Volvo 544 was adequate for window
clearing, not great; mind the heater worked OK, the fan motor though was not powerful enough to clear the inside of the front window. I later put in what these days would have been called an aftermarket window fan mounted on the front dash which did a far better job, not stock however it worked.
I use the same visor technique you do. But the wind and snow were driving so hard that even the small opening was flooding the inside of the helmet with snow. It was intense. And the other drivers — I wanted to stay away from them. It’s why I chose the farm lane rather than stay on the pavement. Luckily as I neared campus everyone was moving slow.
My Falcon was had a great defroster. I drove it a lot in the snow. Just like now, I was always pushing the snow envelop. And I don’t remember any steamy window problems. Unfortunately…
Quite the adventure eh!?
Blinding snow is “interesting” to ride in, having to continually wipe the snow/ice from your visor adds to the fun.
The last time I was in conditions like you describe, I was riding through Wolf Creek Pass heading east from Pagosa Springs. The name for the conditions that came to mind was “White Death” as visibility was just a few feet at times and it was easy to lose track of the road’s edges. The fact that over the edge was a cliff, just made it a tad more interesting than I care for.
I passed dim blurred gray shapes of cars and trucks who had stopped to wait out the blinding snow, I chose not to since then I became a target, better to be moving I thought. Once clear of the pass and a bit lower in altitude, it was nice and clear…..good times.
Kudos to you for handling it. I had three wheels, you were on two…you da man!
The worst part of the “white death” was when my visor froze, no matter how much I wiped at it, I couldn’t see through it.
Had to ride the rest of the way with the visor open, snow/ice particles stinging my face, squinting into the blinding wind-whipped snow…..
Visors are a problem in the winter. And riding with it up can be a draining experience for the reasons you highlight.
What fun we have right???
It was a memorable ride for sure. I’ll think twice when I see a weather alert again. I get chills thinking of cliff edges. I can’t even watch videos of riders near the edge of such places.
Oh My God. You are truly lucky you made it safely.
I’m always open to luck. But mostly, I was methodical and proceeded slowly. And I stayed away from traffic.
wow.. Im glad you managed to get back safely. I find that when it is snowing or raining the issue I have riding in NYC isn’t the weather as much as one is going relatively slow (20-25mph) it is the other drivers who just don’t seem to care about the two wheeled folks and the sounds I get to hear while driving across the Brooklyn or Manahattan bridge is kinda eerie.
Also in NYC the roads are in normal conditions horrible to put it lightly, when it snows it becomes worse cuz you cant see the pot holes as they are covered in the snow yet not enough to have patched the holes.
I am sure you had really tight back muscles from the tension of wanting to get back safely. I get knots on the right side just under the shoulder blade when I go through such moments…
Even though we don’t have anything like the traffic you encounter in NYC, a rider still has to factor in the stray pickup truck or SUV that may come along in the snow. It’s another aspect of the riding puzzle in snow. In this case, I should have left the Vespa at home and taken the car back to work. An error in judgement on my part.
I’ve driven in New York and in Queens and can appreciate the challenge of riding there. I’m spoiled where I am.
Thankfully, no back issues, knots or stress. One thing I have learned from many snowy rides is to relax and work through the problem. This was the most complicated. Thankfully it took place close to home and didn’t require hours of riding to solve.
Hey, just for future reference, when the weather alerts say “Southern Centre” they mean anything south of I-80. Dang better betcha Boalsburg is Southern Centre County!
Those Thursday squalls were pretty tough, scores of vehicles damaged on the Skytop stretch of US322/I-99, horrible traffic jams on the alternative routes. 3/4 mile backup at the Warriors Mark stop signs!
Not a good time to be riding, but at least your short commute and good sense let you pretty much wait it out without too much personal risk. Glad you made it through with nothing more than a hairy experience and a brief delay.
Winter can end any day now.
South of I-80. That makes sense. I was thinking of Pennsylvania Furnace and Rock Springs. Not the frozen north of Boalsburg.
I’ve read a bit about all the accidents. I consider myself fortunate to have been where I was when the squall came through. A short wait by the stadium was all I needed to get my head together and have the snow lighten a bit. Now it’s transforming into a fond memory…
I’m with you — winter can take a hike.
Duh, those Thursday squalls were Friday. Time just keeps slipping away, that’s my excuse at least. Can’t blame that screw-up on autocorrect, ha
The days just blur together. Blame it on winter…