Of Time and Traction

As the snow fell, the first notable storm in years, I found myself mumbling to myself that maybe I oughta have rented an SUV.

Unlike most Americans, I don't own a four-wheel-drive 'ute, because ninety-nine point nine seven five percent of the time, I don't feel the need for one.  Our old-school sedan does pretty much all that we need, and our battered but trusty old van does the rest.  Both are front drive, and if you can't figure out how to drive in the snow with a FWD vehicle, you shouldn't be out on the road in the first place.  

As a Virginian, for three hundred and sixty four days and twenty three hours of any given year, I don't require an SUV, and I don't want to consume thirty percent more fuel for the dubious privilege of maintaining excess capacity I barely need.

But when the snow gets deep, there's only so far skill and confidence can get you.  Anything more than eight inches of snow is borderline undriveable, and anything more than ten and you're just going to hang up.

Ground clearance matters, and so when it looks like we're getting more than twenty centimeters of the

white stuff, I'll rent me a Jeep or a big ol' pickup truck.  It's functional, allowing me to get to my rural congregation, and to check in on elderly parents.  And it's fun, because snow driving is a hoot.  But this latest snow was only supposed to yield about five inches, so I held off.  

In the hours before the snow fell, the forecast kept bumping up, until the average fell between six and twelve inches.  I felt a bit of SnoFOMO, but as my brother was still visiting with my Mom, and my father-in-law was doing just fine, and I didn't need to get to church 'cause it was Monday, there wasn't really a *need.*  

The day arrived, and the snow came down, eventually building to seven inches and change.  A fair amount for the mid-Atlantic, but hardly a blizzard.  That day, I spent my energies digging out.  The plows came by, once, then again, and by late the next morning, the roads were completely passable.

Did I need four wheel drive?  Nope.  Not for an instant.

All I needed was time and patience.

And I thought: which is the greater mark of a person's wealth?  Am I "wealthy" if I must always be on the move, fearful of being trapped in snows that come with less and less frequency, and have a vehicle that reflects that mostly-imaginary need?  The marketers want me to think so.

Or am I "wealthy" if I have the time to let a storm pass, to simply let the sun's warmth and the passing of a day melt away the snow?