Wisconsin thinks of everything

“What’s nice here is if you start sliding, you’re not going to hit anything,” says the fire chief of a place called Bayfield, a town in the far reaches of Wisconsin where they plow a road across the frozen bay once the ice reaches a depth of eleven inches.

And you know, he's got a point. Of course, the body shop still has my car and an insurance check in excess of four thousand dollars fourteen days after a '95 Dodge truck stopped my own icy skid, so on that issue I'm easily persuaded. I'm also quite confident that, sitting here this evening between snow days three and four--lack of current precipitation notwithstanding--my school district has canceled classes far more often than the administrators of the schools in that truly frozen tundra. Of course, we have no windsled. I bet I wouldn't have even scratched it.