It was on Saturday evening when I was notified of the incoming snow. I could feel the excitement brewing as I quickly searched for the weather forecast across different parts of the North West. It’s somewhat of a tradition for me to track the snow. This time around, I limited myself to just Apple weather, since it was pretty much confirmed that the whole of the North West would be waking up in a winter paradise. Although I tried to distract myself with the latest season of the Squid Game, my mind kept drifting back to the snow. Every so often, I took a peak out of the window, searching for the first flurries.
By the time 11pm came around, I was beginning to wonder whether the weather forecast had been wrong. The snow had been forecast to begin an hour earlier, at 10pm, but there were still no signs. It was as though the clouds knew of my excitement and were building the tension. I kept my fingers crossed and began to think about where I would go the next day, to get the best views. This was my first time getting snow since I moved to Manchester, early last year. Not only did this mean that I would get to see my new local area buried under the snow but also that I would get the fun task of planning a wintery day out.
Over the past few years, I always headed towards Winter hill on wintery days. With its close proximity to Wigan and it’s fitting name, it provided a wonderful viewing experience. I pondered for some time about the possibility of driving in its direction but ultimately kept it as a plan B. While I knew that it was somewhere I could guarantee to get a good view, I also knew that there were other parts of the North which I could branch out to. I decided to hold off on picking a location until the morning. The idea was that I could choose based on the areas which got the highest amount of snowfall.
Just as my hopes of being snowed in where starting to waver, it happened. The clock struck midnight and glistening under the streetlights, the first few delicate snowflakes landed on the cars parked below. I was giddy with excitement, just like when I was younger. Of course, this time there were no prospects of getting the day off school, since I am an adult and every day is a day off school. Never the less, the snow was still just as exciting. My giddiness carried on into the night, with me getting out of bed to look out the window several more times before sleeping. Sleep didn’t come easy. Every half hour or so, I’d leap out of bed to catch another glimpse of the falling snow.
Although it was chilly and my adrenaline fought to keep me warm, I still managed to get around 7 hours of sleep. Usually, I would have been too tired to get up with only 7 hours of sleep, especially on a Sunday! But today I jumped out of bed and ran over to the window. The snow had stuck and the streets below were covered with a white blanket, at least an inch deep–two, if I squinted optimistically.
I quickly got ready and then began my second snowy day tradition. I opened Snapchat maps and began looking at stories from across the North West. One by one, I scanned through different parts of the region: the Lake district, the Peak district and Winter hill. But one place stood out more than any other: Saddleworth Moor. In the photos coming out of there, the snow wasn’t inches deep, but over a foot deep. I had to go and see it with my own eyes. I quickly scoffed my remaining potato cakes, then ran down to the car to began my journey to the Pennines.
I felt nervous to begin with. I had driven in snowy conditions many times over the years but something about today felt different. Perhaps it was being on the bigger roads around Manchester or maybe it was something else that made me feel this way. With caution, I began to head eastwards. My car was freezing cold and I was beginning to feel my hands turn numb, before the heaters kicked in. I couldn’t help but wonder how much snow would be left when I arrived. It was already beginning to warm up and I envisioned arriving to patches of slushy snow.
I quickly warmed up, once the heaters began to work and I felt more at ease driving in the snowy conditions. The roads away from my apartment complex had been cleared well before my departure and the mild air kept the roads from freezing again. As I was approaching Tameside, the view of the nearby hills appeared on the horizon. It was cloudy over the hills, which made it hard to see where the snow ended and the sky begun.
As I arrived at the Pennines, I was transported to a winter wonderland. I attempted to pull into a few laybys, so that I could get out and take pictures of the scenery but they hadn’t been cleared of snow. After almost getting stuck, I gave up and continued driving further into the hills. I didn’t really have a plan if my car got stuck. I suppose in some sense I was living out my YOLO phase of life. There were other cars around, so I could always flag someone down if I needed help. At one point in the journey, I drove in convoy with a huge snowplough. I wasn’t sure where it was heading but I felt a sense of security on the clear roads it left behind.
Eventually, I noticed a parking spot with a few other cars and decided to risk parking my car in the snow. After taking a few steps around the area, I quickly realised that my trainers weren’t going to hold up in the deep snow. Luckily, I always carry a spare pair of walking boots in the car, which I could change into. As I sat in the boot of my car, to change my shoes, I felt truly alone. Looking out into the snowy, cloudy abyss, I couldn’t see anything or anyone around me. I questioned whether or not to continue putting on my walking boots. How far was I even brave enough to walk, anyway?
After a few moments of contemplation, I put on my boots and began my walk over to the gate. As I got close, a jolly elderly man appeared and strolled through the gate in the same direction I was going. He let out a brief burst of laughter as he stepped into the deep snow. I could feel his excitement resonating within me. I hung back to take a few pictures of the surrounding areas and by the time I turned around, the man was gone. Disappeared into the thick fog.
I began my journey down the snow filled path and after a few minutes, I didn’t know where I was or where I was going. It was just me, my thoughts and the freezing snow. Besides a few footprints in the snow ahead, it felt like I had this whole corner of the world to myself. For the first time in a while, I felt as though I was truly free. There was no need to put up a front or worry about what others thought about me. Out here, it was just me, alone in the wilderness.
Even though I embraced the feelings of freedom, I also felt somewhat vulnerable. The last few bars of phone signal had just about gone and I realised that if something were to happen, the situation could turn serious quite quickly. I felt a brief moment of panic, before pushing the feelings to the side and really embracing the sense of being alone. I walked for around 30 minutes, before turning around and heading back to the car.
As I walked back to the car, I paused for a moment at the gate, looking out towards the nearby snow. It felt like an unconscious effort to really take in my surroundings. The whole walk had been so surreal that I didn’t get the chance to truly stop and live in the moment. Over the past few months, I have struggled a lot with feeling disconnected from the world. I’ve lost my routine and I haven’t taken the time to truly sit back and contemplate my life. I felt that this walk opened my eyes up to that fact and showed me that it does help to take time for yourself. Not just making plans and doing mindful activities but truly doing nothing.
I hope to be able to experience this again sometime soon. I don’t know if we will get more snow this year but I still look forward to it anyway!
Until next time,
A very cold Emily
