Part 4 - Another Big Snow Storm
There are a couple things you should consider before moving to
the Washington, DC area: 1) The Federal Government, which is the
major employer, influences decisions such as when to suspend
work due to inclement weather; and 2) the bureaucrats who make
the decisions don't know a damn thing about weather forecasting
and seem disinclined to listen to those who do.
Every few years Washington gets walloped by a late winter snow
storm. Moisture laden Gulf air gets funneled up along the
Appalachian mountains and somewhere around Washington, DC it
hits a cold front, stalls, and drops anywhere from 10 to 25
inches of snow in a 24 hour period. Despite the fact that this
happens every few years it always seems to come as a big
surprise, especially to the government drones at the Office of
Personnel Management who decide if the Federal Government should
work that day.
The OPM decision has a domino effect. Once it announces work is
suspended, the schools and most private businesses usually
follow suit and the city shuts down. Since the trademark of a
bureaucrat is a pathological fear of taking a risk, the OPM
usually waits until everyone battles 40 mph winds and drifting
snow to get to work and keep the cogs of government running,
then tells them to go home at 11:00 pm or Noon. This creates a
traffic jam which is 10 times worse than normal because everyone
leaves work at once instead of their normal staggered schedule.
Thus, one January morning in 1983 I found myself tooling along
Rock Creek Parkway on my SilverWing Interstate. There was a
light snow falling, but it was melting as it hit the ground. I
parked in my usual spot and went up to work at 1776 Pennsylvania
Avenue. About 8:30 am the snow started coming down much heavier.
By 9:30 you could hardly see across the street and the snow was
blowing nearly horizontally at about 30 mph. Rumors started to
circulate that OPM would let us out at Noon, but I decided to
get out while I still could, filed a leave slip, and left.
The streets in DC were already covered with several inches of
snow and the plows were nowhere in sight. I knew if I could get
to Rock Creek Park the roads would be in better shape since the
National Park Service took care of them. Sure enough as soon as
I entered the park at P Street I hit freshly plowed pavement.
The Park Service crews had done a super job to keep the Parkway
clear, but when I reached the ranger station near Military Road
there was a rude surprise. Apparently the plows had been
recalled to clear the core area of the Federal enclave and the
roads in all directions were unplowed and covered with about six
inches of fresh snow.
Cars were still traveling through the park and by following in
their packed tire tracks I could make my way through the snow.
Unfortunately, I couldn't keep up with them and car after car
passed me and disappeared into the white mist. The wind was
blowing so hard the tire tracks disappeared about the same time
the car slid from view; about 25 feet in front of me.
Upon reaching the first hill I started having traction problems.
The tread pattern on my tires was more suited to high speed
cornering than cross country skiing. The back wheel seemed more
interested in going sideways than straight ahead and I dumped
the bike. By this time no cars had passed for about 10 minutes.
I guessed the Park Police had closed that section of the
Parkway. You would maybe expect the Park Police to cruise the
park after closing it to look for stranded motorists, but they
probably looked at the road and decided they would just get
stuck if they tried.
A SilverWing Interstate, with its full fairing and bags weighs
about 520 pounds, so it was a handful to pick-up off the ground.
20 feet further up the hill the back-end would fishtail out
again and the ritual would be repeated. The wind was howling,
there was a total white-out, and a few feet away there was a 50
foot drop-off down to the creek. Then, just when it couldn't
possibly get worse there were bright flashes of lighting and
loud claps of thunder; in the middle of a snow storm! I must
have hauled the bike upright at least a dozen times before
reaching the crest of the hill.
There was no way to possibly make it up the steep and twisty
road I normally used to enter and exit the park, so I continued
into Maryland to the East-West Highway, which climbs out of the
Rock Creek Valley towards Silver Spring. That meant another
slippery slope, but by that time I had perfected the ride,
slide, dump, squat, lift routine. If it was an Olympic event I
surely would have qualified for a gold medal by the time I
finally reached Georgia Avenue.
I was exhausted by the time I arrived in Silver Spring. There
were still 5 miles and more hills to reach home, so I rode into
a municipal parking garage, put the bike on the center stand,
and surveyed the damage; a few scratches on the saddlebags and a
slightly bend shift lever. I put the cover on, left a note
explaining why I'd left it there without feeding the meter, and
headed off on foot towards home.
Well, at least I was dressed for that trek with boots and a
snowmobile suit. I also found that the full coverage helmet did
a nice job of keeping my head warm too, although folks did tend
to look at me sort of funny and give me plenty of room. I
finally reached home at 1 pm, three hours after leaving work.
Some might think me a damn fool for riding to work that day on
my motorcycle, but the way I look at it if you can't get to work
on a motorcycle you don't have any damn business going to work
that day.
The Government has a suggestion program, so I suggested that the
weenie at OPM that flips the coin or the dart that decides the
fate of the Federal work force be required to ride a motorcycle
to work year-round. I'm still waiting to hear back.
To be continued: Watch out for that oily patch...
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