New Englanders will long remember the winter of 2015. The 110 inches of snowfall set a new record in Boston and brought public transportation to a standstill. Snowfall followed snowfall, with no melting in between, and by be early March the snow banks at the end of my driveway were piled head high.
Going the distance from the garage to the road in a Prius was like competing in a luge event at the Olympics. Getting out of our driveway required perfect, mid-track alignment and the courage to let it rip over the frozen hump at the end left by the snowplows.
On a return trip from stocking up on groceries before the next storm. I miscalculated my approach and wedged the right side of the car into the nature-made New Jersey barrier. I got a shovel and started to chip away. As I watched each dip yield barely enough ice to fill a glass I knew my efforts were futile, but didn't know what else to do.