PennDOT + Snow Storm = White Knuckles

Ahhhhhh, how I love to awake to the first snow of the winter season one-half hour earlier than usual. That half-hour is in anticipation of the extra time that might be required while I drive 33 miles south to my job in Wash, Pa. However, in the words of the "Bulldog of Washington County": "PennDOT didn't really do their job today."

Not only did it take 2 hours to get to work this Wednesday, I am convinced that it took a few months off of my life expectancy. To begin, I have developed a bit of anxiety about driving in the snow. Maybe because I have never had to really do it to get to a job (oh, Port Authority buses, how I miss thee), or maybe it is because I moved to the top of a freeking mountain, or maybe it's because I traded my gashog of a SUV for a Honda Civic...I can't be sure. I do know, however, that I am a careful, courteous driver who tries to maintain control of my vehicle and avoid hitting others on the road.

So, back to today. It took 45 minutes for me to get onto the Parkway West (usually a ten-minute ordeal), but this was due to traffic. Next, the P. West Ahtbound was wet, miraculously wet. We traveled at about 30 mph. Then came the surprise: the ramp to I-79 South was sans tiretracks. Completely covered with 1.5 inches of snow. Um, tractor trailer driver, please do not try to pass me now. Please. I am sliding all over this elevated on-ramp. And remember, "Bridge freezes before road." Hope laid just around the corner when I believed that upon entering the Interstate-proper that there would be at least one clear-ish lane of travel. Um, no. Instead, I traveled in the snow-packed tire tracks of the right lane at 35 mph behind a line of other folks with my hazards on for the next 20 miles. Where in the EFF was PennDOT? Not one salt truck in sight. This is an Interstate we're talking about. As in, the fastest, most direct way to get from point A to point B. No salt. No plows.

My only reprieve was the funnyass shit that my favorite morning DJs were saying about the roads. Anyhoo, I made it to work 35 minutes late (and, yes, we're currently in the midst of a med mal jury trial about a breast reduction gone wrong), and exhausted. Because after concentrating on keeping your vehicle on the road for 2 hours, your adrenaline has about pooped your brain out.

You have been warned, friends. If you have a compulsive need to gamble at the Meadows during a snow storm (about the only reason to go to Wash, Pa.), take Route 19 South instead.