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[RC] Fw: Riding out in the worst snowstorm since 1772 (was Pictures) - Part 2 - Flora Hillman

Continued from Part 1 ....
 
As my pony trundled through the snow, crossing the front lawn on the way out past the big summer pasture (empty now) and down towards the road, I saw my son was waiting for me at the front door of the house.   He took the camera and I posed for a few shots, looking all the world like a bandito waiting for the payload train.  You couldn't see my grin behind the bandana, but... it was there.
 
With my camera back in my pocket, and my son double-timing it to get back inside the house, I turned my pony's head towards the big, white countryside, walking down the long fenceline towards the road.  The windy snow took full advantage, hitting hard as it blew past on almost a horizontal level.   We were out in the open now, with a hayfield to our right, and open pasturelands to our left. 
 
The snow stung the exposed section of my cheeks like shards of glass. I ducked my head, turning away slightly, keeping my eyes down until we reached the road.  The snowplows had been through only once, about 4 hours ago, so the snow had re-built several inches, but it was enough to give my pony a break as he plowed through the last knee-high snowdrift and set foot on the less taxing pavement.
 
I was surprised to see a car just a short distance up from me, clearly off the side of the road,  and was even more surprised to puffs of exhaust coming out of the tailpipe.  Obviously, the car was stuck, the driver now effectively in the middle of nowhere.  I shook my head.  What idiot in their right mind would be out in weather like this? Some people just don't listen to reason.  I rode up, peered into the fogged up windows, and saw a startled face looking up at me.  The side window rolled down, and I leaned over and asked if she needed help.  She smiled and thanked me profusely, saying that she worked for a local farm, and they were sending their tractor out to get her. 
 
That was good enough for me.  She would be OK.  I told her if they didn't get there within the hour, to just go up to my house (said pointing to the building which was almost invisible in the blowing snow) and my husband would be glad to get something hot to drink.   She was very gracious, thanked me again, and I left, heading the last few feet towards the intersection of a 3 mile gravel road heading south.
 
I stopped at the head of the road and looked down the snowy expanse of white.  Except for one set of 4-wheel drive tracks that were about 3 hours old, the road was virtually untouched. These ancient gravel roads in the far western sections of the county rarely see a plow when the conditions are this bad, and I suspected it probably wouldn't be plowed one until Monday or Tuesday, at the earliest.  It was as if the clock had turned back, and I was in the winter of 1752 -- when this county had been formed.  This road had existed then, much the same as it does today, and as it had in the winter of 1772.
 
I pulled my camera from my pocket, took a shot, then guided my pony into one of the tracks. He stepped carefully, then more confidently,  heading down that endless ribbon of white towards the back entrance of Foxlease estate, 2 miles down the road.  The upper stretch of the road was partly protected from the wind with a hedgerow of short trees and wild berry shrubs.  I glanced into the wind at the big open field to my right, debating whether to shoot a photo of that, then as a fierce gust of icy snow hit me full in the face, I changed my mind.  Better to wait until I was under the protection of the trees just ahead before pulling out the camera again.