Seattle's Got No Balls -- For Snow Removal

I apologize ahead of time for posting a non-sports related topic on a sports blog, but this is a pressing matter and all the Seattle teams still suck. It's now been five days since the last and biggest in a series of snowstorms here, and side streets are still more rutted than a ranch road. Granted, it doesn't snow much here, but the city has been undone by more than its inexperience dealing with the "white stuff." We're also suffering from a typical case of Seattle pansiness.

The Times got to the heart of the matter earlier this week in this article, and the question still remains: why doesn't the city use salt on the roads? Amazingly, Seattle equips its 27 snowplows with rubber blades, purposely trying to pack things down. (Portland has about 50 plows --another transportation realm where the Rose City beats us.) So let me get this straight: you're sending out snow PLOWS that you know are just going to pack down the snow, and you're happy with that? Really? That's like a coach announcing before a game that he just wants his team not to get blown out: "Look, we're going to give almost our all -- not 110%, but maybe 68% -- and I hope we just lose by 10 points," he would go on to say.

Salt is used with much success in other parts of the country, but the city refuses to use it because it can harm salmon. Again, let me get this straight: salt might run off into streams that drain into Puget Sound. Then the salmon would be like, "Hey, is that salt that I taste? Damn, I'm swimming back to the ocean, where it's less...um...salty." But the state DOT uses salt and the city uses sand and chemical de-icer. So what is gained here? I'm sure the salmon love the chemicals from the de-icer. And at least Seattle can say Puget Sound is no brinier because of the Emerald City -- that's all the state's salt degrading the pristine waters of the Sound.

Then there's this article positing that sand might be more harmful to fish than salt. So Seattle's environmental sensibility might not just be ridiculous in this case, but also flat-out wrong. Then Mayor Greg Nickels has the gall to give the city a grade of "B" in its efforts to clear the roads. I'd love to see the road leading to his house, because he clearly doesn't live on my street.

The streets are so bad, KING 5 had to Get Jesse! on the case. What's enlightening about this piece (besides the fact Jesse is about to have an aneurysm) is that you need to call the city to request a plow to clear your street. A freaking request? Isn't keeping streets clear part of the city's job? Last I checked, I didn't have to call Seattle to pick up my garbage, although at this point maybe I do. I suppose I should also request to have electricity in my apartment, and water in my toilet.

Look, it's not like you'd have to use salt in Seattle 20 times a winter. If they'd spread it around several times the last week, we'd be out of this mess and probably wouldn't have another salt-requiring storm again for 10 years. Even more maddening is that the city actually has salt on hand, but won't use it. And let's not make this out like only anti-environmental red states use animal-killing salt. Such blue enclaves as New York, Vermont and Maine use salt with impunity and success, and my travels there have been smoother because of it. Granted, I wouldn't drive my old '57 Chevy on a salt-treated road, but that's only because I don't have chains that fit the whitewalls.

Seattle makes a lot of noise about being a world-class city, and it's obviously got a lot going for it. But it has absolutely fallen down on the job, and we're all falling on our asses because of it. But no matter, this will take care of itself. The snow is already turning to rain and that will wash all of this away. But not before we get flooded streets from melting snow left over by a half-assed cleanup made even more impotent by misplaced priorities.

Seattle's Got (Snow)Balls

Our gate assignment changed three times and the flight was 90 minutes late. Aside from that, everything was great. So what was the reaction when we landed? Applause, of course. Such was the feeling of amazement when we touched down at Sea-Tac Sunday night. Given how much snow was on the runway and how heavily it was snowing at the time, I think everyone on our plane was incredulous we even landed. A visit to the terminal and a tour of a paralyzed city only confirmed that.

I'd spent the weekend in sun-dappled Tucson, where highs hung out in the mid-60s. But I kept a jealous eye on the weather in Seattle. Jealous, because I'm a geek for snow, or maybe just a geek. I barely missed a snowstorm as I flew out on Thursday morning and I alighted late for the meat of Sunday's event as well -- and I regretted both. I always got excited for snow when I was growing up in New York and snow is rare enough in Seattle. This storm shows how rare.

Looking for ground truth, I checked out highlights of the Seahawks-Jets game from a bar at the Salt Lake City airport during my layover. Yup, it was snowing. But even though the Seahawks beat Brett Favre on the frozen tundra of Qwest Field, at least one Jet got a victory of sorts. Seattle's sports scene is so lame that even when fans win, they lose.

When I got off the plane, I felt I had stepped into Port Authority or Penn Station. People were sleeping on any piece of floor they could find. Loads of cancelled flights threatened to condemn travelers to a scene out of one the lesser-known carols: "Christmas at Sea-Tac." At the baggage claim, orphaned luggage beckoned.

I have a thing about trying to preserve snow on my car as long as possible. One time while living in Maine, I kept snow on the roof of my Subaru for three straight weeks, diligently tending to the base like a ski area groomer. When the last piece of frozen crust flew off while I sped down the Maine Turnpike, a piece of me went with it. So I had high hopes when I returned to my car at Sea-Tac. I wasn't disappointed. Heavy snow and strong winds had created the kind of cornices I'd only seen on exposed mountain ledges. I waved off the broom-wielding parking attendant and brushed off the equivalent of eyeholes on my windshield.

Snow seems to bring back long-ago associations better than most phenomena, so when I pulled onto the snow-packed road, I felt I was back in New York or Maine. Plows had clearly been through, but the road surface didn't appear to be treated with anything (unlike in the Northeast, where salt successfully wages battle against snow and ice). A few cars rattled by with chains, a surprising sight and sound outside the mountains. But State Route 99 did its best impression of Stevens Pass; the dreaded "compact snow and ice" meant my tires never touched ground. It was a ghostly drive home, and what few cars I saw inched along. A pickup truck sat abandoned along the side of the road.

I think it would have taken at least twice as much snow as this to lay low other northern cities. It's nice that we have creative people who make snowpeople like the one pictured above, but why can't they deal with snow here? We don't live in Miami, and snow is always just a mountain trip away. But apparently Armageddon has arrived and its calling card is white. I hope we survive.

If going from Tucson to snow wasn't enough, I got other hints my trip was over. As if to say that I wouldn't be needing my clubs any more, the airline broke the kickstand on my golf bag. But at least it was a gradual comedown from highs in the 60s to chilly Seattle; the temperature in my apartment when I returned was 52 degrees.