The travels of a camp director
I have been slacking of late in my blog posting responsibilities and for that I apologize. Since mid-January I have been driving all over New England and the eastern seaboard attending camp fairs, visiting prospective camp families, and spreading the Birch Hill word to everyone who will listen. It seems that everywhere I go I meet people who have heard about us through a current or past camper or counselor and I love the excitement I am encountered with.
Last weekend I drove a long way for two camp fairs in the Philadelphia region. I heard about the impending storm but I shrugged it off; growing up in New Hampshire has trained me to deal with anything snow/ice/cold related. What I was not anticipating was a city crippled by the multiple feet of accumulation they received last Friday into Saturday.
The view from my sister's stoop in South Philly
Walking through the streets of South Philadelphia, where my sister lives, was like being in a setting from a post-apocalyptic 80’s movie. Ragtag gangs of residents wielding shovels, de-icing salt, and winter get-ups you would only see in South Philly wandered around in awe of the storm, trying to locate and dig out their cars, stoops, and sidewalks.
A semi-cleared street
The municipality of Philadelphia had retrofitted garbage trucks with tire chains and massive plows to try to clear some of the streets. I watched in amazement as a truck, barely able to squeeze through the parked cars, adeptly moved the snow down the street (to where, I do not know).
I ended up being stuck in Philadelphia for only a couple of days before I braved all of the news broadcasters’ warnings about staying off of the roads. 10 years of winter driving training in New Hampshire has given me the ability to maneuver through snow, sleet, ice, and all varieties of muck so I, again, shrugged off the warnings as if the media was just my overcautious, overprotective mother. I realized quickly that the general population of Philadelphia also paid no heed to the winter advisories; there is nothing more dangerous than inexperienced city drivers trying to drive aimlessly in a blizzard. It took only about 45 minutes to get out of the city and the highway, although strewn with stranded cars in all directions, was easy travel. 20 miles outside of the city there was barely a dusting of snow. By the time I got to New York City the snow was entirely gone and the two feet of it on the roof of my truck was the only evidence of my weekend adventure.
