I find that our endless winter is a terrible time for driving a car. The snow and ice revisited on a repeated basis are terrible to drive in, but aside from misjudging a hill where the snow was melting just enough to turn into ice, requiring me to gently skid to the bottom of the hill before cutting my wheels and safely missing everything, I've not suffered greatly in the conditions.
However, the aftermath is another story. Driving in the snow yesterday as darkness fell, I was less concerned with how slick the roads were, but rather how grooved, pitted, cut and full of holes each lane was. Along Route 27, I was concerned there was artillery bombardment along the road which I managed to sleep through. The roads had what appeared to be shell craters, just waiting to rip your tire, axle or whatever else it could grab off your car, though I was heartened that as long as the enemy wasn't using phosphine gas, I could safely hide from any artillery or machine gun fire for hours on end.
Sadly, while driving a car, a shell hole caused by the constant abuse of the weather does not endear itself to me. It just makes me paranoid that I am going to rip apart my car, hitting the wrong hole at the wrong angle again. As I've managed to cut 12 tires on this car in the last six years, each time I see a pothole or anything on the surface of the road, I get the awful dread of not again, hoping against hope that I manage to reach my destination without the horrible sound of a perforated tire, made worse by the fact they are an odd size and usually out of stock at most local tire locations.
Fortunately, I managed to choose the smaller, safer hole nearly every time and arrive safely at my destination, but I know tomorrow will come...a tomorrow where no one has paved, filled or plugged any of the holes just waiting to tear apart my poor, poor car.