I might be rethinking the adult communities after Saturday the 30th. From Wednesday on, the predictions for the weekend were becoming worse and worse. Another big snow was threatening and by Friday morning over ten inches were expected, with the onslaught beginning as early as Friday afternoon. By mid-day Friday, the sky was a grayish mass seeming about to let loose at any second. I was supposed to perform in the evening, and I was looking forward to it after a very decent performance last Friday at Gillie’s. Since I was now single, I decided to try performing every Friday in hopes that my playing would improve a little faster. Now I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to make it tonight.
The snow hadn’t started by five-thirty so I began to drive into Blacksburg, with no surety I would even get to play. A quick and heavy snowfall would turn me right around, but there was still no snow when I got into town, about six. I usually play from seven-thirty to eight-fifteen, so I took a short walk and then a few flurries began. I got back to my truck and spent ten minutes warming up and then headed for Gillie’s. Justin Craig didn’t care when I started so by seven ten, I was already into the piece we usually open with, “Green Dolphin Street.” I kept glancing out the window but the snow remained light and by a few minutes after eight our set was complete, although we didn’t try our new piece, “Black Coffee.” I chatted with Justin for a few minutes then began my drive home with very little snow on the ground. My truck had no problem and in forty minutes I was back in the hollow watching satellite TV (which was out for exactly an entire month before the serviceman could get up my still icy road). By midnight I was ready for bed and I set my alarm for two so I could check the snow. Since my cancer treatment I have taken to using a mild, over the counter sleep aid to help me get seven or eight hours of needed rest. When I don’t take one of the 25 mg tablets (full adult dose is two tablets), I find myself wide awake at two or three in the morning, and the next day is dreadful. I should have known better not to take one tonight, but I did and I ended up groggily turning off the alarm at two and dropping back to sleep.
At three twenty I awoke startled, looked out the window to see four inches of snow, and quickly began getting ready for a long, long night. It took me about ten minutes to get all my gear on, and then I was off to the tractor barn to warm up the tractor. Fortunately, I had greased the tractor the day before (all 17 fittings) and also changed the oil in the generator, both done at 33 degrees. The tractor started right up and while it was warming I put on my breathing mask, used to keep the diesel fumes from aggravating my asthma. The mask also warms the air slightly and that can help prevent an asthma attack.
I was annoyed at myself for sleeping so late and the tractor wasn’t doing exactly what I wanted. If I had gone out at two, the angled blade would have slid the snow off to the side but now the snow was building up in front of the blade and I knew it would take me a number of passes to get down to the dirt. I drove past my gate and headed up to the hay barn to work on that road and as soon as I entered the pasture the wind attacked me. The stinging crystals quickly covered my glasses and froze my face. In a few minutes I had to take off my glasses just to see and once I got to the hay barn I could hardly make out the road because of the drifting snow. Fortunately, the tractor worked well enough (I only used the blade going downhill or it would stop the tractor in a few seconds) and in an hour I was back up my road and I saw that my first pass had helped a great deal. It was close to five but I decided to do one more downhill pass before I took a break. I knew I had to get as much snow off as possible or whatever I left was likely to turn to ice and I might have another month of problems. The second pass went well and only in a couple of spots did the tractor slip and I was able to correct that by using the separate brake pedals (as Mike had shown me after the December storm). Now all I had to do was turn around and run back to the tractor barn. My blade was up and I was running in first gear high, the same gear I had come down in, and as I got to the first steep section I could tell that it was already very slippery (my tires and the blade had compressed the snow) but by keeping it moving I made it to the top.
I went inside for a break and realized that I could hardly move so I decided to take an hour’s nap. One hour of snow wouldn’t cause that much of a problem and my eyes were closing even as I sat at the table.
That hour passed much too quickly but at 6:30 I was back on the tractor and I repeated my earlier routine up to the hay barn (about a mile away). After the second pass down my road, I was tired but glad that I had done a good bit of work on the road. I wasn’t hitting dirt yet but I was sure I could get my truck down, and I really could wait on that until Monday afternoon since I didn’t have to be at Radford until five that evening. I had just gotten past the steepest part, and I was really chilled and tired and somehow I found myself veering toward the ravine edge of the road and in a split second I was on the edge and the tractor was tilting and seemed about to flip. My immediate thought was to jump but instead I pushed the clutch in and the tractor stopped. All those movie scenes where someone is trapped in a car or bus on the edge of a cliff came flooding into my head, and I remembered that the slightest movement usually spelled doom. I carefully shut the engine off and then took off my seat belt in case jumping turned out to be the best choice. I sat for a few seconds and it seemed like the tractor was stable. Since the tractor was tilted I could see that there was no way I could jump even if I wanted to. I was going to have to climb out slowly and that is what I did. I can’t explain the relief I felt when my second foot touched the ground but I knew I had been incredibly fortunate. Perhaps my guardian spirit had intervened. I’m not sure what exactly happened but I knew I was so, so lucky.