Explore "Over Prairie Trails" by Frederick Philip Grove on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The blizzard started on Wednesday morning. It was that rather common, truly western combination of a heavy snowstorm with a blinding northern gale -- such as piles the snow in hills and mountains and makes walking next to impossible.
I cannot exactly say that I viewed it with unmingled joy. There were special reasons for that. It was the second week in January; when I had left "home" the Sunday before, I had been feeling rather bad; so my wife would worry a good deal, especially if I did not come at all. I knew there was such a thing as its becoming quite impossible to make the drive. I had been lost in a blizzard once or twice before in my lifetime. And yet, so long as there was the least chance that horse-power and human will-power combined might pull me through at all, I was determined to make or anyway to try it.