The Long Island Volkswagen Club

I LOVE to drive in the snow. I know this started at an early age, when my friends and I would break out our "go-karts" at the first sign of slipperiness and do all kinds of skids and doughnuts! It helped that my go-kart had a three-speed transmission and a foot operated clutch, just like a car! Of course everybody asked us if we could plow their driveway, but we were just kids hell bent on having a good time! Also rode my "mini-bike" in the snow, using my feet as outriggers so as not to fall over.

All these activities were a blast and no one ever got hurt as speeds were relatively low and at least I was as careful as a teenager could be. It wasn’t until the step up to real automobiles when the real threat to life and limb would take place.

Let’s face it, young and naïve, years before the 55-MPH speed limit, the tendency was to drive too fast! This wasn’t so bad in good weather, but as the winter approached, my confidence was way ahead of my abilities. I got away with breaking the law, but physical laws never go unpunished. The lessons were, well, cold and hard.

It started innocuously enough, spins and thrills in the local parking lots, but real-world driving would soon bring it’s own set of realities. When I graduated to a Beetle, I was impressed by its ability to keep the rear wheels planted firmly in snow. Didn’t steer very well, but didn’t skid either. I was forced to develop new techniques for spinning it around!

The sign said "BRIDGE FREEZES BEFORE ROADWAY" but as always, experience was the best teacher. This occured on the stretch of Interstate 95 in New Rochelle NY where the elevated section is more than _ mile long. In my impatience, I had just zigzagged past a bunch of "wimpy" drivers on my commute to work early that morning in my ’63.

Whizzing along at top speed, I immediately knew something was wrong as soon as I entered onto that span. Somehow, the car rotated 90 degrees sideways and stayed there. I can tell you that the human brain gets used to seeing the road go by at high speed, but the view through the windshield of the guardrail flying by sideways at that speed was very unnatural! The fact that I knew I was powerless at this point to do anything allowed me to make these observations.

We (me and the car) continued our slide and drifted towards the edge of the road where the front bumper caught on the soft snow and rotated the car 180 degrees. I was now watching the other side of the road go by! Eventually, the car slowed and I straightened it out just before reaching the dry pavement at the other end of the bridge.

Grateful that it was over, I suddenly remembered "What about those six cars I had just passed?" Well, they never came! I imagined what might have happened to them, but the bridge had a rise and I couldn’t see past it. I pulled away slowly, having the highway eerily all to myself.

The next big lesson was that you could go as fast as you liked in snow, as long as it’s uphill! Gravity never takes a vacation and can be your best friend or your worst enemy. Learned this one coming down the long hill just north of Route 6 on the Taconic State Parkway.

I had spent the day skiing at Hunter Mountain, and was tired and bored on the ride home. The snow was coming down but I was still doing 60 in my yet to be restored ’69 Beetle. I felt uneasy and knew that I reached the point of no return; the place where speed, gradient and traction conspire to make it impossible to slow down.
Kind of like a "free-fall", totally locked in until at least one of those conditions changes.

Sliding sideways again, I looked out the side window to see pure panic on the faces of the people in a Volvo not more than 20 feet behind me! My front fender slowly "kissed" the guardrail, actually one of those cable arrangements known as a "widow-maker". In the end, I gained control and pulled off to the side of the road, front wheel rubbing against the fender.

The Volvo followed me and we all got out of our cars. The fellow driving looked relieved and commented "Wow, how did you hold it in that skid for so long?" I was dumbfounded and muttered something about luck and that the wheel was rubbing.

We went over to the car and surveyed the damage; fender slightly pushed in, with a beautifully formed impression of the cables!!! I mumbled I would find a stick in the woods to pry it out. As I turned to walk toward the trees, I noticed his wife step over to the car, put her foot on the wheel, grab the fender, and pull it clear! I was thinking "Gee, what a woman!" but could only say: "Thank God for Volkswagons"