We’ll start by showing some cool snow pictures. Images courtesy Colorado Department of Transportation. They were live at the time I posted this. I also want to give them, and highway departments everywhere a shout-out, for keeping traffic somehow moving in the face of stuff like this. Don’t be a dick to the plow people.
If you live in Colorado, you get it. If you don’t, you will. Of all of those shots, the only one that really terrifies me, is Wolf Creek. You know it’s gonna be good when it has it’s own website, flyer, and video. If there was ever a road embodiment of ‘f– around and find out’, it’s Wolf Creek Pass. The guy at the top right has NO idea what he’s in for at the top.
This guy didn’t use the runaway ramp, and it didn’t end as badly as it could have.
This guy at least had the good sense to know he was wayyyyy outta shape, and took the right course of action.
Because of the way Colorado has that split nature — half mountains, half plains, the weather around here can be tricky to predict.
Warning: Technical Details Ahead
For it to snow with any sort of enthusiasm on the Front Range of Colorado, it means the wind has to blow out of the east or southeast, up against the mountains. When this happens, the air rises, precipitates out its moisture (Rain!), and we get either a gray, cloudy day in the summer, or snow in the winter. But this doesn’t happen often.
The Front Range is dry. Like, 15 inches of precip a year, dry. We will get thunderstorms that will drop 1/4 of a place’s yearly precipitation, in an hour. Then it doesn’t rain for a month. This goes back to Mother Nature, being a dick. And there’s nothing worse than a dick with weather control powers.
Here’s a good explanation of it, courtesy of KXRM in Coloardo Springs.
But this leads to a little depression on my part. See, I’m the last non-skier in the world that likes the snow. And when I see everywhere else BUT here getting it, I get a little bummed. I just blew a wad of money on big, sexy, chunky snow tires for the car. I wanna go slide around! The closest snow I could find to myself is about 60 miles away, and it’s … slush at best.