Uphill both ways...Fact or fiction?

Growing up in Northern Michigan, winter wasn’t just a season but a survival challenge. The snow didn’t gently fall; it descended like a vengeful force determined to bury everything in sight. And did we get snow days? No. We dug ourselves out and trudged like Hobbits marching toward Mount Doom.

My late maternal grandmother, who grew up during the Great Depression, used to tell me about walking to school "uphill both ways." 

As a kid, I rolled my eyes, figuring she was exaggerating the way all grandparents seem to do. But now, having moved from Michigan to Lincoln County, where winter barely dusts the ground, I have to wonder—maybe she wasn’t exaggerating at all. Maybe I had been living the same saga all along.

I have heard the great tales of snow drifts and heavy snowfall during the early oughts here in Lincoln County, but as someone who has not even seen the snow stick here, I can’t help but feel that they are just stories. 

Back in Michigan, an inch of snow wasn’t even enough to acknowledge, let alone shut anything down. 

Here in Lincoln County, though? I’ve been thoroughly amused by how that one inch of snow is still clinging to the ground like a stubborn ex that just won’t go away. I keep joking that this is basically Florida to me. 

The other day, someone complained about the "cold," and I had to stifle a laugh. Cold? Try standing in a driveway while two uncles and a drunk neighbor attempt to tow your car out of a snowdrift because the lake-effect snowfall decided to bury it overnight.

One of the biggest differences I’ve noticed between winters here and in Michigan—or the Midwest in general—is the type of cold. 

In Michigan, the snow is thick, heavy, and wet, making it a slushy, grueling mess to shovel through. 

So far this year, here in Lincoln County, the cold has come with a dry freeze—meaning there’s more black ice but less slush. It’s a different kind of hazard, but at least I don’t have to wade through ankle-deep slop every time I step outside.

I come from a massive family in Michigan, where winter is a team sport. You don’t just shovel your own driveway; you shovel your neighbor’s, your cousin’s, and that one guy’s down the road whose car mysteriously vanishes beneath the snow every year. 

On my paternal side, my family spans from Iowa to Washington State, and I have to say, I appreciate the more relaxed approach to winter here. 

For the first time in my life, I’m experiencing a winter where I don’t have to preheat my car for twenty minutes just to unstick the windshield wipers. It’s magical.

So, to all the locals here in Lincoln County bracing for "harsh" winter weather, I say: if you ever want to experience true winter warfare, I’ll take you on a field trip to Michigan. 

Bring a shovel. And maybe an extra uncle.