Cold Starts

Photo of icicles hanging off a roof with a snowy yard in the background and the rising sun shining.

It’s been extra cold here lately, and according to the groundhog who made his prediction earlier this week, that’s not expected to change anytime soon. Looking at the weather forecast it certainly feels like we’re stuck in a Groundhog Day style time loop. In fact, each morning I look outside, and I see a scene like the one above with big icicles hanging down and sparkling in the sun. Once the sun comes out just enough to warm things up a teeny tiny bit the icicles come crashing down with an epic bang all while more snow starts to melt off the roof turning into icicles as the sun goes down and the temperature cools.

A few days ago I needed to run out to the store, and since it was super cold out, I decided to start the car a few minutes before and let it warm up. My car wasn’t so sure about this idea. It took an extra long time to start. In fact, just when I was thinking, “Oh no, I need a new battery.” I heard the beautiful sound of the engine finally starting up. So, thankfully a battery was not something I needed to pick up while out running errands, at least not yet, but this winter isn’t showing any signs of letting up.

Years ago, I drove an old Jeep that did not have the benefit of fuel injection, and now I’m going to sound like an old geezer, but young people really don’t know how good they have it, because let me tell you starting up a car without fuel injection in the bitter cold is a unique challenge.

That Jeep, like any old vehicle was very touchy. Starting it on a cold morning was like performing some sort of weird ballet dance. You had to give it gas while turning the ignition, but just the right amount of gas. Not enough, and it wouldn’t start. Too much, and you would flood the engine. Starting it every day, I became an expert, but I learned the hard way that letting someone else try and start it was a recipe for disaster. I have a distinct memory of having to park somewhere with a valet once, and giving the poor young man sent to retrieve my car what must have sounded like a doctoral dissertation on how to start the vehicle. He looked at me like I had three heads, but hey, it must have worked because he got that car started!

I’ve become spoiled by my not exactly late model car that requires no elaborate ritual to start it on an especially cold morning. In fact I have to fight some of those old instincts as the push button start won’t work unless my foot is on the brake. Times change. Old dogs learn new tricks, and if we’re lucky old batteries make it through another winter.

Stay warm!