On Friday, February 14, 2003, the Cornell Ballroom Dance Club hosted one of their twice-semesterly dances, and it seemed like the perfect time to visit. I had just submitted my first big proposal, and I was looking for a chance to relax and have some fun. So I headed up to Ithaca on that Friday, despite early forecasts that there would be some snow over the weekend.

I had a wonderful time at the Valentine's Ball. Here you can see Andy and me as we arrived and sitting tiredly on a couch much later, me dancing with Bernd, and Andy and Brian being goofy in their matching outfits.

On Saturday, Andy and I stopped to check out Ithaca Falls. It was gorgeous -- all that ice capturing the waterfall in a massive frozen moment -- but breathtakingly cold. Although the sun was somewhat present, it was less than 10 degrees Fahrenheit, and the wind blowing off the frozen waterfall was icy cold. The picture on the far right is of a smaller waterfall nearby.

On Sunday, February 16, I made the colossally stupid decision to head blithely out for Maryland without checking the updated forecast first. The drive down was perfectly fine, at first. I made it down to Scranton, PA, with clear roads and no precipitation. Just as I was starting to think, "Huh, I thought they were forecasting some snow?" I hit Wilkes-Barre, and the snow started to fall. The now-infamous "Presidents' Day Storm" had finally caught up with me, head-on. Well, a little snow's no big deal. So I kept driving. Slower... and slower... and slower. It got dark about half an hour (i.e. 10 miles) before I reached Harrisburg. At that point I had slowed to a crawl (or less), as the snow was piling up and the roads were coated with a good three or four inches, which sounds minimal until you try to drive through it in a car with 5-6 inches of clearance. The interstate was getting emptier and emptier -- everyone had given up or gone home, except for me and the semis. "Where are the snowplows??" I kept demanding of the silent, drifting snow. A few inches is no big deal... if someone comes and scrapes it off the road for you!

Eventually I hit a thicker snow patch, which slowed one tire, and threw me into a slow spin, ending up perpendicular on the road. Luckily, the road was empty... except for me... me and the semis. It occurred to me that not only was it a bad idea to sit in that particular position, but that it was about time to get OFF the road and find shelter for the night. I clearly wasn't going to make it the remaining 120 miles to Columbia. So I flailed my way off the interstate, stopping at the first hotel I found, which was a Hilton and extremely overpriced. The clerks were very nice and helpfully responded to my rather blunt, "Can you recommend somewhere cheaper to stay?" So I slalomed around the (also unplowed) Harrisburg streets until I found the hotel they recommended, which was very nice. The clerk there looked at me and offered a "distressed traveler" discount, as I clearly wasn't on holiday. I wasn't actually distressed, just mildly annoyed, at that point. I got a very nice room, complete with kitchen, and walked to the only food establishment still open, which did not have a non-smoking area, so I ended up buying supplies from a 7-11. Not too bad, and then I turned on the TV to check the weather. Good thing I had stopped -- Maryland had declared a state of emergency and was issuing $1000 fines to any civilians still out on the roads.

I woke up the next morning, Monday, and waded out to see my car. The only reason you can tell it's my car is that I arrived after most people had already given up (their cars are the indistinguishable lumps to either side). I clearly wasn't going anywhere until the snow plows returned. Luckily, APL had closed for the day (ha) so I wasn't worried about missing work.

What ensued was a day of idleness (I got a lot of knitting done), frustration (I had a paper deadline four days off and I needed a computer!), and eventually, hard manual labor. I was assured repeatedly by the clerk that the snowplow was "on his way", but apparently he was on some other way (I am sure he was in very high demand).

This is Harrisburg's "snow emergency route" which as you can see was also not plowed. Good job, guys.

Here is some poor soul trying to climb the 0.0001 degree incline outside the hotel. "I have an SUV, I am invincible!" Sorry. Nope. [The truck on the left is actually stuck in the hotel driveway. The driver just gave up and vanished.]

So by noon, although I was up, the snow had stopped, the roads had been cleared, and I was ready to go... I couldn't because the parking lot was still jammed with snow. "If you want a job done... you got to do it yourself." So I went at it with my 24-inch snow scraper (I am not kidding). I dug out around my car and trampled and dug my way out so that the car was sitting in the parking lot, facing out. I eyed the 50 or so yards ahead of me with trepidation. Using the snow scraper, it would take me approximately five days to get that far. I started anyway (what else did I have to do?). I made it about ten feet, then prevailed on another traveler to borrow her shovel. Throughout the day, other hotel guests would wander out, boggle at their snowdrifted cars, and wander back into the hotel. Some dug enough to get into their trunks. Many informed me of my apparent level of insanity. One asked, "Where are you trying to go?" "Maryland." "Ha. Ha, ha ha!" I shrugged. I was determined to get home that day, no matter what.

Just as it was getting dark, I finished the shoveling job. I had cleared the route from my car to the street, and I triumphantly spun, flailed, and gunned my way out. In the midst of my celebrations, an SUV (what is WITH those guys?) came in the parking lot and drove back to where I'd just escaped from. Some people have no clue...

This is the SUV who took my place. I have no clue how or if he was able to back out of there.

Looking along the other leg of my path out to the road.

I win! Here's my car after I escaped.

Having escaped, I headed home. The PA roads were... tolerable. Slushy, icy, but not nearly as bad with no snow falling. And then I crossed the MD border. Wow! Maryland apparently mobilized all three of their snowplows and sent them all up I-83, blessed be! Traffic picked up to about 70 mph on apparently dry roads. All was well.

Until I hit the Baltimore beltway, naturally. Due to the snow, I missed the exit to I-70 and ended up in the streets, so had to find the other on-ramp. I found it, ending up following a semi onto the ramp, where I quickly ground to a complete halt. I watched helplessly as the semi crawled up the ramp ahead of me, because the on-ramp had not been plowed! What the? Naturally, the semi had much higher clearance than I did. So... I rocked my car forward and back, forward and back, all the while nervously glancing over my shoulder in fear that another semi would come hurtling up behind me as I was stuck on the on-ramp. Luck was with me -- I broke free and clawed my way up onto I-70. Which was also not plowed. A major interstate! Not plowed! Not even partially plowed! At that point there was no turning around (not that I could have turned around on the on-ramp, either), so I crept along, shuddering away from the cruising semis (now those guys ARE insane, to drive a huge truck on an unplowed interstate) and feeling my way (there was no way to see any lane markers. I drove along on a field of white. Eventually I gave up on any notion of lanes and just stuck to the middle of the four-lane-wide expanse, for safety.) Once I got off I-70, the "local" highway 29, naturally, was actually in good shape (go figure), and I made it back to my apartment complex... only to find that there was nowhere to park. They had actually done a good job of plowing the lanes, but the parking spaces were either filled with a snowdrift or filled with a cardrift. While driving around the parking lot, I managed to get stuck (!) in the lane between cars and had to dig myself out again, in the dark, with the ice scraper. I was practically laughing at the stupidness of the whole thing by that point. Finally, I found an out-of-the way "it looks like a parking space if you squint" place for my car and dragged myself into my apartment, where I collapsed in relief. Adventure fini.

Coda: some shots from my apartment complex, the next morning, as we emerged blinking into an overdose of sun and snow, and people half-heartedly tried to dig their cars out of the drifts. Boy oh boy.