The metrics of shoveling snow

Due to circumstances beyond my control (weather and a clogged fuel line in the snowblower), I’ve been required to shovel every inch of this winter’s snowfall, one shovel at a time.

Out of curiosity, or boredom, I started breaking down the metrics of shoveling snow so I might shovel more efficiently, and more accurately estimate the time it’s going to take me to clear my area.

For example, one morning I took note that I needed to plant the shovel a third of the way into the blade’s length to successfully shovel 2 inches of snow to either side of my driveway without any spilling over the shovel’s edge before I reached my destination. I also noted that it took me about a half hour under optimal conditions to clear snow 2 inches deep from the entire area.

So … 1/3 of the blade + 2 inches of snow = no spill = 30 minutes.

Earlier last month I noted it took me one hour to shovel 5 inches of snow and required I start the shovel only a few inches into the snow layer to avoid spillage. An alternative is to push more snow with each pass and allow overflow, and then come back for a brief second sweep.

Of course, the more snow that fell (I hesitate to presume past tense) this winter, the higher I had to lift the shovel to toss its load, which in turn increased my workload.

So … A 2-foot high pile of snow + a full shovel = effort squared. Or something like that. I’m not the one in my family with a Ph.D. in mathematics.

Anyway, hours spent shoveling provided me with myriad mental gymnastics to pass the time.

Could I possibly quantify the total inches of snow I’ve shoveled this winter, the total hours invested, total number of passes, and the collective weight? What conclusions could I draw, if I did? And who would care?

Maybe I could break it down to BTUs produced, calories burned and body strength improvement.

When I’m not musing about the work, I’m listening to my iPod, which, let me tell you, has gotten me through a lot of shoveling. There are way worse chores than shoveling snow, as long as the blizzards keep their distance. I choose my own pace, my own playlist and, to some degree, my own hours.

And, if I decide not to listen to music, the silence is just as enjoyable. I’ve shoveled more hours in the dark than daylight, at times under a bright moon and starry sky. I’ve wondered if the passengers in the cars going down my road, which is a ways from the house, see my shadowy figure working under the faint light of the garage and porch light. I’ve also wondered if the snowplowers, sympathizing with my lone figure, might turn up my driveway and offer to plow it out — this is pure fantasy.

For awhile there the snow had been coming down at such regular intervals that I didn’t even bother tossing my shoveling clothes in the hamper; I’d just hang them up to dry, socks and all, until the next snow. I also left the cleats on my boots to save time getting dressed.

But now, with January done and February in the doldrums, my shoveling days may or may not be over — Happy Groundhog Day!

Community Editor Carol Marino may be reached at 758-4440 or community@dailyinterlake.com.