Snowmageddon 2011: The Ride Home

When I finally was let go from work sometime after 7 p.m., the blizzard was in full swing. Most of downtown had emptied out, which would explain why there were so few cars on unplowed Dearborn Street when I left. The streets weren't entirely deserted, though--under the Loop elevated tracks at Wabash and Madison, I found a man playing his accordion. He's out there most days, collecting change from passers-by, but how many people were passing him on a night like this. As he gamely slogged through a rendition of "Puff the Magic Dragon," I pulled out a fiver and moved to toss it into his carrying case, then realized that I couldn't--the case was filled with snow. He stuck out his hand and took the bill. "Take care of yourself, man," I said as I turned the corner and headed for the train. The train ride was surprisingly uneventful. The Brown Line was still running smoothly, and I was back in my neighborhood in what, on a normal day, would be an average travel time. Once I was off the train, though, the adventure really began. The ramp that leads from my train stop is covered with a lovely mosaic--not the most practical design feature in the best of conditions, but downright treacherous on a night like this. Once I made it down the ramp, I found most of the sidewalks impassable--many had substantial drifts already--so I wound up walking in the street. Ordinarily, this would be a dangerous proposition--Chicago drivers have no love of pedestrians, and vice versa. However, the few cars that were still out there were moving very slowly--maybe five miles per hour at best--and the wind was at my back, so I just needed to walk in the tire tracks, watch my step and hope for the best. You could tell that a snowplow had been through recently on the eastbound lanes of Montrose Avenue, but the westbound lanes were thoroughly covered, and except for a lone set of headlights in the distance looking east, there were no moving vehicles in sight. I probably could have stood there snapping pictures for hours without risk of getting hit. If you're wondering what it was like to be standing out there, this photo tells you pretty much all you need to know.

I stayed upright. I got home. I stayed safe.

Hope you did, too.