I love snowstorms in Madison because they offer great comic relief. There is no end to the fun that can be had when snow falls rapidly on a city with about one plow and no shovels — or that's at least the way it seems. This week's snow provided the chance to watch both cars and people alike skid around campus with a hilarious fender bender or fall from time to time.
Apparently, however, watching sadistically out my window as dozens of people slip and fall on the patch of black ice in front of my house can have its payback. For, the day after this week's snowfall, as I walked down Bascom over the gray bridge that connects the hill to the Humanities building, I slipped in true cartoon fashion, flying parallel to the ground before screeching to a full stop on my back.
For the 50 or so people who watched this and laughed, good for you, it will never happen again. Or so I thought, until the back of my head met the pavement for a second time when I was carefully crossing the pedestrian crosswalk in front of College Library. For the pick-up truck that screeched to a halt, inches in front of my face — almost squashing my head like a tangerine — thanks for buying snow tires.
While it is funny to watch the entire city of Madison waddle around campus like a bunch of frightened penguins every time there is snowfall, it is also equally as dangerous. Falling on Bascom was painful, perhaps more so to my pride than to my spinal cord, but painful all the same. Falling down on the icy road, unable to get my footing as a car skidded toward me, unable to gain traction on the poorly plowed road was purely dangerous. Pedestrians falling and motorists crashing are not as light a matter as this article, thus far, would lead you to believe it is. The truth is the snow management system in Madison leaves much to be desired.
The plows during a snow emergency are few and far between. If you live on a less-traveled street, good luck getting out of your house before spring. If you are one of the unlucky souls who left your car parked on the side of a street before or after a snowfall, I am sure you have already discovered that the plows that have passed your way have already taken the liberty of boxing in your car with a 6-foot wall of snow.
Perhaps to supplement the costs of extending the hours of plow operation, the city of Madison should begin its own reality show featuring Madisonites slipping, falling, crashing, colliding and most of all cursing the poor snow removal. They could call it, "A Day Without Plows." After all, a day without plows is generally what Madisonites are faced with every time snow accumulates 3 inches or more.
It is undoubtedly expensive for the city to continue plow operations throughout the course of a major snow event. However, it is an expense the city must find a way to meet. Icy roads across the Madison area resulted in hundreds of car accidents this week, leaving many injured and some dead. I am merely suggesting that a more fervent attempt at keeping up with the accumulating snow and the compounding ice is crucial to safety around the time of a major snowfall.
The city of Madison's website claims that a "full-scale plowing operation has to be a well thought out process because of its cost." The website also states that a "full-scale plowing operation results in the use of approximately 170 pieces of equipment," of which a little less than half are rented from private contractors. While it may be expensive for Madison to simply buy more equipment, as opposed to forking cash over to private contractors every time the snow gets serious, one can rest assured that until global warming melts the polar ice caps, Madison will have snow storms, therefore, it will be money well spent. Snow removal is an issue that often falls on deaf, frostbitten ears, but it is an issue that should be of priority to city officials. While a more comprehensive snow removal may take some of the cruel laughter away from snow days, it will also take away much of the danger.
Max Schlusselberg ([email protected]) is a sophomore majoring in journalism.
