Snowy Road

I'd been checking the weather again and again. I knew the snow was coming - it was forecast to arrive around lunchtime, so I left Doncaster straight after breakfast and didn't delay.

The M18, M1, and M69 were clear. No problems. I beetled along at 70mph, only slightly worried about the large icicles hanging from the bridges over the motorways.

Then, within minutes of setting off up the Fosse Way, it started to snow. Hard!

Now, I'm quite an adventurous and confident driver. I'm pretty competent at winter driving too - I've had quite a lot of experience in Scandinavia and Bulgaria, and I've also laid in bed watching Ice Road Truckers night after night after night.

At first, when the road was like you see in the pictures, this all paid off. Travelling at between 15-20 mph I had JUST enough traction to get up the hills, and negotiated the downhills safely using my gears to brake. Foot light on the throttle - like doing intricate work on the sewing machine, and foot gently tickling the brakes to avoid skidding.

Then it got worse. MUCH worse. By the time there was about a foot of thick snow on the ground I was starting to encounter abandoned vehicles, starting to see cars driven into the sides of the road. I tiptoed carefully round an Iceland truck that was blocking most of the road.

From then on, it got harder and harder. My ordinary, small, front-wheel drive car started to struggle in the conditions. On the flat was easy - despite the fact that the snow was higher that my wheels at this stage I was still able to move on the flat. Downhill I could handle with gear braking and ensuring that when I skidded it was into the 2ft+ high drifts at the side of the road. I was the only ordinary car on the road by this stage, so it was pretty quiet. I stopped on 4 uphills, having lost traction, and, wearing my wellies, I shovelled out snow to bare road for 2m in front of each wheel and got going again. Think of Ice Road Truckers. Think what Lisa Kelly (one of my absolute heroes) would do. I wore my sunglasses since I was starting to go snowblind by this stage too. Another mile closer to home, to warmth, to safety, and to the Wonderspouse.

The last hill defeated me. I was about 4 miles from home and the snow was now so high it was hitting the front bumper and bonnet of the car, slowing me down and making it impossible to get going again. I knew that I COULD walk home from there if necessary, but also knew that it would be difficult. For the first time all journey I ran out of energy. I was in the middle of an A-road and certainly couldn't leave the car there if I ever wanted to see it again. Furthermore, 4 miles on steep hills, through 2ft of snow, with a viola on my shoulder, was not an appealing thought!

I called the Wonderspouse, who was going out of his mind worrying about me. By this stage, abandonment was certain, so I did a 3ish-point turn (with added skidding for effect) and went down the hill, then turned off into the nearest village. I "parked" by the top half of a phone box that was sticking out of the snow, and thought about my next move.

In the end, my next move was called Peter and tapped on my window. Between us we moved my car closer to the edge of the road (he knew where it was, because I'd landed outside his house). He then, like a knight in shining armour woolly hat, coat and boots, drove me, in his giant 4x4, over the 1 in 10 hill, back to my home village, to safety, warmth, cats and Wonderspouse! I gave Peter my phone number and will go and pick up the car as soon as it's possible to do so. I also owe him BIG TIME and have agreed to play the viola to him! Bizarre!

The whole evening I was in a rather shell-shocked state. I ached from the physical work, but I was home, and safe. Huge relief! Phew!

Never have I been so pleased to be at home, on my sofa, with the Wonderspouse and cats. A hot bath and 2 glasses of wine later I fell asleep on the sofa, waking only briefly to go to bed!