There were no photos, it being roughly 3:30 am, but the second time I saw this particular plow driver he asked if I’d ever been towed on skis. “Only by my dog.” He explained he’d always wanted to tow someone on skis with the plow but it was illegal in town, so we gave it a try on this back road.
Little bit later ran into another plow driver who, looking like a cross between the Marlboro Man and Santa, informed me he was about to come back my way “like a bat out of hell” so I should switch sides of the road behind him. Sure enough, he flew by going at least sixty a few minutes later.
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