So we got some snow. An inch or two accumulated, so hardly snowmageddon, but for us Southerners, it can be enough to muddle things up. Few snow plows, fairly pitiful attempts at salting back roads, and a general lack of much driving learning curve due to infrequent opportunities to practice turn our delightfully curvy and hilly landscape into something treacherous.
But not me. I have an old Dodge 2500 Cummins 4x4 that is lifted with fairly beast tires, steel bumpers/brush guards/ramming tools, and a 19,000+ pound semi trailer winch. I'm ready to get out and do some work and save some stranded motorists... Yes, it's hero time. "But mom, all the other mountain men are out driving the roads, why can't I ?". None of that! I'm a grown man! I can do what I want.
Temperatures in the single digits be darned. Out comes the gear and I put on my cape and... Nothing. Truck won't start. Computer shows engine temp has also reached single digits.
Yes... I have a block heater and No I Didn't Plug It In! What an idiot. And to compound things, I couldn't simply plug it in and be patient... At least until after I'd brought both batteries to 25% trying to will her into that glorious straight pipe growl I love so much. So here I sit, recharging batteries. My coffee is cold. My toes are cold. The perfect picture of a guy who knows better, but did it wrong anyway.
So if this is my final post, you can think of me Frozen in my old truck... Wishing I'd just plugged it in when I thoughtfully staged it off our mountain last night so I could be a hero. I think I just heard my wife say "I told you so."