The snow came.
I had a job up in the hills yesterday. Plumbing. I’ve never known a plumbing job yet to be done without multiple trips, and this one was no exception. The truck made it up the hill without a problem. I was to replace a faucet, but the brand-spanking-shiney-new faucet made the old sink look like hell wrapped in granite ware. I went back to get the proper tools for this new job and new set of sink traps; the home owner went off to buy a sink. I arrived back first, and once again, the truck, with summer/Lower-48 tires, made it up the hill without issue.
I had everything removed & sat waiting for a sink. Then the home owner called from the ditch at the bottom of the hill. I said I’d drive down to get him, but all I really wanted was the damn sink. When I made it down the hill, there were now five cars off the road in a little less than 25 yards, all on a curve. I passed my client and had to keep going until I was at the bottom, then walked back up to him. That was a lot easier typed than done. The road was a skating rink; if you stopped on the road, gravity slid you down the hill.
I reached a Toyota pickup that was on the shoulder, but pointed the wrong direction. Three of us got together, one in the cab driving, and two of us simply pushed on the fender and the truck spun around on the ice like a top. When the truck was pointed downhill, we told the girl to drive and she then slid downwards with me yelling at her from the ditch, “Don’t you hit my truck!”
We did the same act to the next car up the hill. It spun so fast, that we almost had it do a 360. If the car had been on flat ground, we could have kept the thing spinning around in a circle with barely any effort at all. Once again I shouted “Don’t hit my truck”, then we went up to the home owner who had the misfortune of going into the ditch. We had him call AAA, as we watched another car come sliding out of control down the hill.
“Don’t hit my truck!”