One of the things about winter storms in this mountainous country, is that they tend to come up on you rather suddenly. No gradual increase in clouds or snow. You're just driving along, doin' just fine, when..

Wham!

There's a wall of blowing snow.

And visibility drops down to just one or two reflector posts.

Or less.

We hit this on yesterday's drive home from University Town, when we were not quite halfway home through the 95-mile drive. Fortunately, the road surface was still pretty good, and visibility normally better than just a few posts ahead.

The Patrol was busy, with this unit tending an SUV that was facing the wrong way on the shoulder.

We forgot to look to see if there were tracks that would tell us if the driver had spun out on that spot, or if they had slid off the road and across the median from the other lanes above us.

For the first twenty miles of this semi-crappy driving, the wife had us passing quite a few semis, and several SUVs that weren't comfortable with this weather.

Then we dropped off the hill near MP250. And it all changed. The flakes were bigger, thicker and slower. The traffic lanes disappeared, and reflector posts were each a beacon in the white darkness.

Thank goodness for the wake-up bars along the shoulder. More than once.

"Course, the semi drivers were above this ground blizzard, and took this opportunity to regain the time they lost in the windy mountains.

By this time, we were crawling along, with emergency flashers going. Being passed by car after car.

Thought maybe there was something wrong with us, the way everyone else was driving. Eventually the highway behind us emptied of lights. Only one other set of headlights, slowly creeping up behind us. It finally passed, about eight miles from home.

Another (or the same) Highway Patrol car. Barely exceeding our speed.

With his emergency flashers going, too.

Quite a relief to get home.