I know, I know! Electric snow blowers are bad. I know this and so does every red-blooded American homeowner in the northern zip codes. Don’t get me wrong, there are good things about these machines, like when you buy one you can guarantee there will be little to no snow that first season. But electric, that’s what I am talking about. Maybe you have never consider this option. I know I did. I grew up shoveling long driveways with small shovels. I was ready to treat myself to a fine piece of mechanical wizardry that would take a big headache out of the winter months in the Midwest.
So, Mike what’s the big deal about electric anyway? Well, I will tell you. It’s a really, really bad idea. And that is exactly what the salesman at Sears was trying to tell me (yes, this story is a bit old). I was living in our first home (we built it) and I was learning all the new skills that a successful homeowner needed to know, like snow blowers.
“Mike, it is this simple. You need power, torque, fortitude in a snow blower. The electrical blower is only running on 110 (volts, watts, whatever, etc…)
“Yes, sir I hear you loud and clear, but I do not have time to mix gasoline and oil. I watched my father do it and I do not want to blow anything up!” I declared with a little foot stomp to drive my point home.
“Nobody does that anymore.” He said it. I didn’t hear it. So I bought the electric model.
I pulled the car around to the delivery area and popped the trunk open.
“We haven’t sold one of these puppies in 5 years.” The guy working the loading/unloading area said. I didn’t hear that either.
The smell of something new has a certain allure to it. My car smelled good and I felt good unloading the beast into the garage. A fresh fall of eight inches lie in front of me and I was about to power my way through it, electrically that is.
You learn a few key points in your first moments with an (electric) snow blower. One: the first line down the driveway leaves the cord completely buried under un-blown snow. Two: the second line up the drive is susceptible to power cord location, AKA: where the hell is the cord?
I plunged forward toward the garage laying down my second line of snow removal.
And then it happened!
The first thing was the sound! It was very specific and direct, the sound of a cord snapping out of an outlet, my garage outlet where my (electric) snow blower was receiving the energy to help its poor, unlearned, poor, uneducated, electric snow blower owner trying to clear his driveway for all the safety reasons the household will most likely never appreciate. “POP!” The second thing was the view. I could see a sixty foot orange power cord flying directly at me, face height. I learned quickly that ducking sometimes is a very good idea. The power was off, the snow ceased to blow and a spent power cord lay over my left shoulder.
There are times in your life when shear social humility trumps all physical pain. I was there with a sixty foot broken power cord, so I did what any red-blooded American homeowner would do. I grabbed all my gear and ran into the garage, lowering the door so as not to show my stupidity in front of any other new homeowners using their fine gas-powered snow blowers.
Three times, maybe four, the other end of the power cord lay tightly wrapped around brand new snow blower blades. The carnage was intense. I could not extract the extension cord, so I severed it into tiny pieces until all was removed. I salvaged some of the cord by removing the useless stretch of cord. Believe it or not, I am good with electrical things. Although while writing this I can hear the sarcastic irony of my current plight.
I took the (electric) snow blower back to Sears the next day and bought a more appropriate model for a new homeowner. I most likely contributed to the downfall of that once major retailer in the biz!
