More Than the Forecast
It takes a lot to keep me from going to market, like coming down with the flu and blown transmissions. Sometimes I cheat and skip a week for a wedding or gig where I’m roasting a big critter for an awesome party, but to bow out due to a derecho, excessive heat or bitter cold hasn’t been something to which I easily give in.
Last week I, along with many other vendors and patrons, thumbed my nose at Mother Nature as the wet snow blew sideways under our tents soaking through our winterwear. The feeling we were in for a wicked ride began with text messages on Friday from fellow vendors wondering who all was going. The forecast didn’t predict much more than a few inches, just enough to make it slushy. There were speculations of up to five inches by late in the afternoon. That’s ok if you’re only shopping and heading back to the warmth and safety of a quick drive home, but vendors who have to travel any distance think long and hard before making the choice.
To be on the safe side, I chose an alternative market vehicle, the little 4WD farm truck. Occasionally I take it to market instead of my regular ride, a van which holds significantly more than the truck and has the luxury of heated seats which are especially important on days when I’m standing in freezing weather for four hours. Nothing beats the relief of cranking up the hot seat to ward off a frozen backside.
The next determination comes when stepping outside for morning chores prior to market. Those few moments tell me much about how the day will pan out. What waters are frozen, where the animals have bedded down, can I see the stars, what does the air smell like and most importantly—is it snowing? No snow meant all systems were go for a launch. The same goes for ice.
Nothing beats experience, though, for changing your mind. Everyone has their own litmus test for determining if they forge ahead for the day or stay home. A farmer once told me that when they slipped and fell on their front porch they turned around and went back to bed without ever getting in their market truck. “If my porch is that slick, so are the roads.”
A number of us travel from distances where the climate conditions can be quite different than that of the markets’ locale. For instance, the snow that fell last Sunday at market was wet enough vendors were able to make snowmen, but the snow once I was home was a dry powder that sifted through my fingers like sand.
There was no snow when I left the farm for market, but by the Mason Dixon my windshield was a vision of warp speed as snow shown in the headlights against the darkness. Not too heavy, I gave myself the option of turning around at Braddock Mountain if the weather was worse on the southern side. Fortunately, a snowplow belching sand was in front of me trudging up the hill so I followed just far enough away an occasional plink of grit pinged off the truck. On the opposite side of the mountain phalanxes of similar trucks queued up under each overpass, six at a time. The Maryland Department of Transportation was not messing around, thus relieving my fears of a slippery drive home.
Customers were upbeat despite the flakey precipitation. Some made an extra effort to offer comfort to the vendors bringing us steaming cups of coffee to warm our tummies, our hands, and our hearts. Some lamented the absence of their favorite vendors but were quick to also offer thanks for those who decided to brave the elements. We made the best of things that we could, our snow brushes for our vehicles doubling as ways to knock the snow from our tents and clean off tables and signs from the gathering snow.
I was briefly worried about the drive home when a text from my mother asked, “You didn’t go to market, did you?” I replied with a picture of a snow splattered sandwich sign. “Let me know when you get home,” she requested. That’s not a common thing for Mom to text me at market so I took it as a cautionary warning. No matter how old I am, Mom still worries.
The drive home wasn’t the greatest, but it was also not the worst. There were a few manure heads who still had to weave in and out of traffic at excessive speeds, but that’s every Sunday on the drive home. I thought about vendors driving box trucks as Pennsylvania had included those on Interstate travel restrictions for commercial vehicles. The plows were still parked under the overpasses so the main event had yet to begin. Even the municipal surface roads were clear right up to my driveway. That’s when I finally had to put the truck in 4WD.
*NOTE* This blog has already been written prior to heavy snowfall, significant drifting, mechanical and logistic difficulties here on the farm which has led me to not attend market this week. Sometimes you can’t escape a perfect storm of bad conditions. See you on Valentine’s Day.