The first flakes didn’t seem like they would hurt. A light dusting on parked cars and a soft shimmer under the streetlights. The kind of snow that makes a city feel magical for a short time. People leaving work took pictures, kids stuck out their tongues, and the air had that muffled, almost movie-like quality. But the radio tone was already getting more serious: “Bands of heavy snow will move in after dark.” “Travel could stop without warning.”
After an hour, the magic started to feel scary. The tail lights turned into a red smear. The wipers could barely keep up. People who thought they could “beat the storm” were now crawling along at a walking pace, their fingers locked around the steering wheel.
Travel on a knife’s edge: when the world turns white with snow
During a heavy snowstorm, there is a certain point when the road just goes away. You can see the next set of lights, the blurry shape of a truck, and a row of houses for a second. Then, all you see is a never-ending white wall that dances. Your headlights bounce back at you, the lane markings are gone, and it feels like you’re in a snow globe that someone keeps shaking.
A “snow squall” is what meteorologists call this. Drivers just say it’s scary.
And a lot more of us are going to meet one tonight.
Last winter, the forecast for a highway outside of a medium-sized city sounded familiar: “Heavy snow at times, be careful.” People shrugged and left. Visibility went from a safe 1–2 kilometres to almost zero in less than twenty minutes after the first real squall.
It’s hard to watch the dashcam video from that night. Cars suddenly show up out of nowhere, brake lights flash too late, and a chain-reaction pileup happens in slow motion. Some drivers later said they didn’t even see the crash until they were already sliding toward it.
One minute, they were going the normal speed on the highway. The next thing they knew, they were blind.
You don’t need a blizzard to stop travel. When a cold front comes through, short, intense snow bands can cause narrow areas of chaos while nearby neighbourhoods stay almost calm. The weather is perfect: cold air, a sudden change in wind direction, and clouds that are fed by moisture like a conveyor belt.
The snow can fall at a rate of 5 centimetres or more per hour, and the flakes are dry and powdery, making them perfect for blowing around. In less than a minute, visibility can go from “fine” to “can’t see the hood.”
That’s why weather experts keep saying the same thing over and over: “Travel could end tonight.”
What to do—or not do—when the sky turns white
Honestly, the safest thing to do is the most boring thing: don’t go. If your trip is flexible, treat a confirmed heavy snow forecast like a delayed flight and move everything back. Change the time of that late drive, log in from home, and wear your pyjamas without feeling bad.
Leave much earlier than you think you need to if you really have to be on the road. Make a lot of time to build. Put gas in your car, clear your windows completely, and throw a shovel, blanket, and phone charger in the trunk.
Then slow down more than you want to. Your ego doesn’t help you on the ice.
We’ve all been there: you’re halfway to your destination when the snow goes from pretty to dangerous. Your brain goes into bargaining mode: “I’ll just keep going; it’ll pass; I’m used to this.” That little voice in your head is the most dangerous part.
To be honest, no one really does this every day. Most drivers don’t have to deal with *real* whiteout conditions very often, so our instincts aren’t very good. We trust the car’s tech more than basic physics, brake too hard, and follow too closely.
If you can’t see as well as you used to, your first job is to slow down and make room. Not to show that you are “good in snow.”
The truth is that stopping in the middle of a travel lane during a whiteout can be just as dangerous as speeding through it. People behind you might not see your car until it’s too late.
One driver said after a snowstorm crash last year, “I had no idea we were on top of a pileup until we hit it.” “I could hardly see my own hood.” We were already sliding by the time I saw the brake lights.
So, what can you do when that wall of white suddenly hits
Slow down a lot, but keep going if you can still see the center line or the edge of the road.
Turn on your low beams and hazard lights. High beams just reflect off the snow and blind you.
Make the distance between you and the car in front of you ridiculous. If it seems too much, it’s probably just right.
If you have to stop, pull off the road as far as you can and keep your lights on.
Stay in the car unless you’re in danger right away. It’s safer to be in a car than to walk on a live highway in a blizzard.
Tonight’s snow will help you make decisions tomorrow.
The snow that has been slowly building up on radar screens all day is about to become a reality for many people. People who work the night shift, people who drive for a living, and parents who are picking up their kids from late practice. The forecast language is very direct: short but strong bands, quick accumulation, and visibility that could drop in minutes.
The storm isn’t as important as the choices we make in the hours before and after it. Do we just shrug and keep going, mad at the delays, or do we take that ‘travel could collapse’ line seriously?
When you’re in it, heavy snow always feels like it’s about you. You hold the wheel tightly, squint into the blur, and tell yourself you’ll be more careful “next time.” But tonight is the only time that really counts.
