By Brandon Case
Special to the Tribune
brandoncase98@gmail.com

A recent emergency alert that the State of Kansas sent to cell phone users statewide led me reflect about winter driving and how it seems that we have become more cautious as a society since Covid (not to mention the ease of communicating with wide swaths of the public via technology).

The alert, in part, asked residents: “please do not drive on Kansas roads” unless it’s an emergency, adding “Stay home. Stay safe.”

I recall winter travels, back in the day, from Wyoming to visit family in Oklahoma, some of them involving a solid sheet of ice for a portion of the journey. There was one subfreezing journey when we stayed overnight in Pueblo. The next morning, after we warmed up the car’s engine, we sadly discovered: no heat. We said a prayer, and miraculously, the heater resumed working again several miles down the road. There was a family of origin Christmas trip to Little Rock to visit my aunt, uncle, and cousins, back in the 1970s. On our return trip, a sheet of ice and snow had covered eastern Oklahoma. As my dad carefully drove us home, no one inside the car made a sound. My brother and I stared out the back window at vehicles in ditches along I-40, not to mention a couple that spun off the road right in front of us. Of course, we were unable to stop or we would have ended up in the same situation as the ditched vehicles. It would have probably been helpful to have had emergency alerts (not to mention a cell phone) for all that trip, reminding us that it’s not such a good idea to be driving today.

Winter driving in Wyoming is wholly different experience than it is in Kansas or Oklahoma. It’s further north, so the winters can be dicey at times. More than once, upon winter drives across the Cowboy State, I reflected upon how a thin sheet of glass separated me from life and death. Unless the roads were closed, Wyoming people just drove. It usually didn’t matter what the weather was. On one 250-mile trip from Gillette to Laramie to attend a conference with a member of my museum board (I was a museum director back then), I recall that a big chunk of the return trip was at night through “hyperspace.” That is, all you could see in front of you were heavy snowflakes swirling in the headlights of the car. The museum board member encouraged me, “You can do this.” And I did get us home safely.

A simple rule of thumb for winter driving that involves ice and snow is this: slow and steady always trumps fast and foolish.

This winter, anyway, when conditions worsen, may you have the option to remain home. Stay safe.