Everyone talks about the weather, but...

I already blogged about when to call off work because of inclement weather. If anything, I’m less likely to do that for personal endeavors.

Recent correspondence with Bill reminded me of the first time this decision confronted me. We were good friends during our childhood. In junior high, we found ourselves locked in an intense, albeit friendly competition for the hand of “Lady Lydia.” It made no matter that Lydia, by all indications, had no interest in either of us. She was probably faking. Right.

The battlefield was primarily the weekly night dance at the school. Every Saturday, Bob and I donned our armor (English Leather and Dixie Peach pomade) and went off to do battle. We usually carpooled via parents.

One Saturday, it snowed all day. Bob and I called back and forth to discuss the advisability of going to the dance. Our parents had already refused to drive, supplying an assessment of our intelligence for even suggesting it. Bob and I debated hiking through the drifts and driving snow, and agreed it wasn’t worth it.

I immediately wrapped myself in every outer garment I owned and pulled on my galoshes. As I expected, I spotted Bob hotfooting it out his front door. Neither one of us would allow the other an opportunity to gain an edge in the race for Lydia.

After an hour of leaning into the biting wind, we arrived at the school, which was completely dark. They assumed everyone would have the good sense to anticipate that. And they deal with adolescent males on a daily basis?

On to college. The first break would be Thanksgiving. It being our freshman year, we were feverishly anxious to get home and see family and friends. For the four of us, the Philadelphia metro area was home.

As the day approached, a blizzard was forecast to cover Pennsylvania. We had a brief meeting, deciding to go. We had amassed too many college stories with which to regale old friends. It was the 60s.

It was snowing heavily when we piled into Harv’s Rambler to depart Cincinnati. By the time we entered the Pennsylvania Turnpike, it was almost whiteout conditions in the foothills of New Stanton. That being the case, Harv dropped the speed below 80. It didn’t take long for us to skid into a turn and, but for a stout guard rail, would’ve careened down a steep hillside.

However, the rail took its toll. One headlight now aimed hard left while the other looked moonward. We pushed the car out of a drift and made the mistake of taking the next exit in quest of tools to correct the situation. It was getting dark.

That was actually two mistakes. First, any shopkeeper with any sense had closed for the day. Every shopkeeper in the small town had sense, by all appearances. Secondly, they wouldn’t let us back onto the Turnpike with a vehicle that was obviously unsafe for driving.

Being four teens from Philly, we didn’t have enough grey matter among us to construct a fully formed brain and seek lodging. Instead, we took to the back roads. It was almost twenty hours of skidding and sliding across the state.

Fast forward to a couple years ago. I had planned a group kayaking trip to an island off the coast of Georgia. The day we departed, they were forecasting monsoons and possible tornados. Do we call it off? Planning and excitement had been building for over four months. We went. Windshield wipers almost proved inadequate. The campground was partially protected from the howling wind by pine forest, but was almost under water. No matter. We spent a good part of the evening in a roadhouse.

I had a whitewater trip planned for Costa Rica, even though my paddling skills were barely adequate for the steep mountain rivers. It rained daily for two weeks, turning them into roaring torrents by the time I arrived. Prudence indicated that I should just enjoy some of the nature tours and let it go at that. But, prudence and I aren’t always on speaking terms. I paddled and came home with a body like a POW who had been interrogated by North Koreans.

I’m thinking of this because we have a getaway weekend planned with departure in about an hour. We’ve been looking forward to it but snow is forecast beginning tonight and continuing throughout tomorrow. With all I’ve learned, am I going?

Heck yeah!