Not so fast buster…
Apparently King Winter took issue with my cheek yesterday and here on the second day of the new season delivered a parting shot of his own. In the normal course of things a spring storm is something which we would have taken in stride. Alas, I was in a slightly awkward position at the time that the first snow squall blew through today though: specifically 40 miles due north driving our big trailer home on I-89 in Bethel, VT. Though we still have studded snow tires on our farm truck, we make every effort to avoid hauling that 8′ wide, 30′ long beast of a trailer on snow covered roads. It was purchased last year after all primarily for the purpose of hauling a large show string over multiple days out to OKC, Grand Isle NE, or the western-city-to-be-named-later where the Futurity will be held. Long straight, flat driving: good. Mountains and white stuff: not so much. Needless to say that as soon as I felt my rig start to fishtail while cresting one of the bigger hills on I-91 this morning, I put the truck immediately into 4×4 mode: drive train be damned. Going off the road with that thing would not be good for anyone but the wrecker.
Normally this time of year that trailer would still be sitting parked and mothballed here on the farm. Today’s short run was not to be avoided though as all three of our trailers (the Beast, our 24′ EBY, and an old beat up but beloved 16′ TLC we’ve had for years) needed servicing and/or inspections with the the oncoming show season. For just 10 days from now Jen and all of our show fans, hay bags, banners, etc…along with many of the supplies for the North American Show itself (color checking spotlights, ribbons and banners, show signage) will head down to Springfield, MA bright and early along with a compartment of yearling females in the 24 footer. There she will meet all of our various partners in crime to begin setup for the NAAS, with Kimberly and I following later that afternoon with the remaining CCNF show string in the Beast.
In any case all’s well that ends well. The truck, trailer, and I made it home safe and sound. Though rather than test my luck and try to drive it up to the Arena’s more substantial door yard, which would have meant having a go at that infamous 10 degree grade (ask Mr. Munro), I quit while I was ahead and left them both at the bottom of the farm. We can wait for the snow to melt again.