NORTH WESTMINSTER — Reading in the paper about all the terrible accidents caused by the recent weather, I couldn't help but wonder why people go out in what are obviously very dangerous situations.
“Just stay home,” they say on the radio. “Stay off the roads,” they say on the TV. “Dangerous conditions - avoid driving,” they say on the Internet.
But still, there were all those people out there driving, all those cars sliding off the edges of the road.
Well, of course, I was one of them, but I had the good excuse that I had started home early from Rhode Island and the rain had begun ahead of schedule.
I'd almost made it safely - it was just that half-hour distance from Keene, which took an hour and a half and foiled me. It was a scary time with lots of skids and a couple close calls on that last leg of my drive, but I turned out to be one of the lucky ones.
* * *
I got to thinking about those close calls - how I felt about them, both during and after.
I was trying to figure out why people take chances as I did. After all, I could have stopped in Keene and stayed over at my daughter's house. I wasn't entirely innocent of taking my life in my hands, good excuse or not.
I couldn't remember the skid on the Exit 5 access road to Interstate 91 very well at all - just how it had been some kind of miracle that I hadn't collided with that SUV as we both skated across the lanes and in and out of the way of other sliding vehicles.
I recall only that my entire consciousness was taken up by the urgency of the moment - and then, afterwards, the pure relief of a favorable outcome.
It isn't until after a crisis has passed that you realize it had been a crisis. Then, if it has turned out fine, it becomes an adventure - and who doesn't like an adventure?
Is that why people brave the elements when they've been advised not to? Or is it just plain stubbornness? Do we disregard the facts to get our own way?
* * *
It happened again. It was snowing out - a heavy, wet snow making the roads bumpy and greasy. Remembering my previous experience, and in respect of the weather experts, I had reluctantly given up my expectations of getting together with my friends when, ahead of schedule, the snow began to let up.
I heard the plow go by outside my house. Surely if they were plowing my backwoods dirt road, the main roads must be fine, I rationalized.
See, there it is: rationalization! I made myself a plausible excuse to go out into a world still covered with snow and ice and slush. Was I looking for another adventure or just trying to find a way to get what I wanted?
Once on the road, I realized I'd made a mistake. The paved roads were still not sufficiently cleared for good driving and, although it wasn't icy as it was the week before, I still felt the wheels lose purchase, and slew around on several occasions on the Back Westminster Road.
Should I have changed my mind and turned back? Probably, but it's hard for me to make new decisions like that one on the spur of a moment. So I kept going.
* * *
Being out in the world - doing something, going somewhere - felt good. After all, isn't that what life is all about - having things happen?
If each moment were just like all the others, or even like most of the others, time would have little meaning. We think we want stability, dependability, predictability. We think we want to know we're safe and comfortable and certain.
But then, in spite of all the good advice (both our own and others') we go out and drive on icy roads. We go in search of what might turn out to be an adventure but could just as well become a crisis.
And why? I never did answer my own question.
Maybe everyone has good excuses.