Minneapolis ice storm

Nathan and I leave Pagoda and get on the highway to the movie theater. There is a light rain. Traffic is horrible.

We sit in traffic for a while before we see the accident: one car smashed into a metal barrier, front crumbled, airbags deployed. Two goofy-looking teens stand next to the car in the rain.

Ahead is a SUV facing the wrong direction in the middle of the road. The driver is a frantic-looking blond girl. Traffic moves around her car on the shoulder.

Over the next few miles we see at least five other accidents: cars facing the wrong way, chain accidents, smashed bumpers. Nathan is unamused. The flow of traffic is 20 miles per hour. I mention that traffic is moving at a “zombie pace” and get a glare.

We reach a junction in the highway. Traffic stops completely because the roads are so iced over that none of the cars can make the incline in the road. Nathan opens the door and confirms that the road is completely glossed with ice. I maneuver over to the off-ramp and we watch the car in front of us slide down the ramp.

The ice is so slick that I couldn’t even move part of the car on the grass for traction, but I eventually let the car slide down to the intersection.

We decide to skip the movie and take side-roads home.

The neighborhood is a mess. Teens slide down the sidewalks in skating shoes. Hobos try to keep balance. A quarter of the signs in the neighborhood are knocked down.

I manage somehow to keep control of my car, but the ice is so bad that I can’t make the incline to my parking spot.

I parked on a nearby busy street. I just hope my car isn’t demolished by a drunk driver overnight.