Yeah Steve, winters in Vermont always sounded romantic to me courtesy of Hollywood movies. But the reality was much harsher. My buddy Bill lives on almost the summit of a mountain in Dummerston, about 4 miles out of Brattleboro. The drive up to and down from his place via a steep, winding, dirt road was a real white knuckle rollercoaster I would never have dreamt of attempting. Always made that part of the journey as passenger in Bill's 4x4 truck in which he hurtled up/down that coupla mile stretch like a World Ralleye Champ driver. Made all the more hair-raising by Bill pointing out hazards and trees saying 'that's the tree my son plowed into last year' or 'that's the ditch my neighbor skidded into'.
Reason for our stay in VT every year in Feb back then was to exhibit at the largest train show in the US - the 'Big E' at Springfield, Mass., usually held over Presidents day weekend. Following an early breakfast, we'd set off from Bill's on Fri/Sat/Sun mornings for the two hour drive down to Springfield. One year, another pal, Paul, from Yorktown, VA who was also bunking at Bill's, was told to stick close behind Bill's truck on the way downhill pre dawn. After about a quarter mile, Bill looked in his mirror and Paul was nowhere in sight. We slowed for a while during the descent, but Paul still didn't hove into view. Then Bill's phone rang and it was his wife Angie saying Paul had flipped his couple of months old Toyota Tundra truck onto its roof into a ditch within sight of leaving the house. We returned back uphill to find Paul standing at the roadside unhurt, but shaken, staring at the underside of his virtually new Tundra half buried in a snow drift. So yeah, New England winters are not for the faint hearted.