With the latest round of snow storms, Central New York is on pace to break the record books. As of this month, Syracuse was dubbed the snowiest city in the country with a prodigious 132 inches and counting. It’s a title that is not unfamiliar to the city or its fleet of snowplows.
The Onondaga County snowplow fleet is one of the busiest in the country, and it goes into overtime during night shift.
In the middle of one of the snowiest nights, the streets were relatively quiet as another blanket of snow added another layer to the roads. Inside the Department of Public Works (DPW) building the air was buzzing.
The army of bright yellow dump trucks filled with salt and a two giant scoops off the grill are preparing for war. Brian Collins is the Superintendent of snow and ice strategizing the battle ahead against the elements, including sub zero temperatures, black ice, and cars.
He monitors the radars and the radio constantly from a coffee scented and salt caked office at the department of public works. In the moment, he has many decisions to make during a storm.
“A lot of people don't understand there's a lot that goes into it other than just waking up and snapping your fingers and the snow being gone.” Collins said while inspecting a weather report on his computer monitor.
“It's all situational, it’s about the timing of the snow and temperature,” he continued. It’s not just the snow he’s fighting, sometimes it can be the public he’s serving.
“Usually, they beat us up pretty good, on social media and stuff like that.” Collins said with a wry smile. When a street gets missed by the fleet, it’s very rarely the fault of DPW.
It’s just a few of the factors that makes working the night shift a grueling ordeal for the select few that volunteer for the task.
“It's tough when people have families and a lot of people don't like working at nights, but they got to give up sacrifices,” he half jokes.
Among those who do are Jason Marani and Jeremy Edge. They pilot the ‘Syracuse Saltshaker," the given nickname now emblazoned on its side. Think of a large dump truck with a giant two wing plow in front. It takes two to operate; Marani as the driver and nose plow operator, and Edge sits in the passenger seat operating the wing blade, hence the nickname "Wingman."
To allow a reporter on board, Edge handed over the controls as wingman. First, he offered a short tutorial on how to operate the giant wing blade.
It’s a technical task that requires complete focus, the driver and their wingman need to be in sync while constantly scanning the road for trouble through the driving snow.
“It definitely takes a little toll on the body," Marani confided, then clarified, "it's not physical, it's very mental,” as we rolled out to begin a night's work.
As he looked both ways, he admitted, "I don't care for it myself, but I volunteer for it [because], I'm a glutton for punishment.” When pressed further, he shared the true reason, “My son! I see my son a lot more if I'm on nights than if I'm on day shift, I'd rather suffer for four to five months throughout the year to be able to spend time with my son.”
From the start, it's clear how intricate the dance between driver and wingman is, bringing the blade in and out as the driver swings the behemoth of a truck around corners and past cars.
The work moves swiftly and rather gratifyingly as a well groomed roadway narrows behind our rearview mirrors. But, before the first hour is over we hit trouble.
“My biggest pet peeve, and I think this goes for everybody that's in a plow, is odd even parking.”
The warning signs that direct cars to park on the same side of the street each day have a purpose; to let the massive snowplows squeek by some of Syracuse's oldest and narrowest streets.
One car ignoring the odd even rules, creates an annoying bottle neck for plows to navigate.
“Unfortunately, we have a lot of long streets that you don't realize until you get halfway down that there's other cars that are parked and you know you're not going to fit.” Marani said.
It leaves the snowplow driver two choices.
"You back up or you lay on the air horn and hope that someone can come out," Marani said, "and I'm one of those guys; I don't care if it's 3 o'clock in the morning. I'm going to hit that air horn.”
Backing down in a plow is nearly impossible, leaving the only other option to press on through.
It is among the most complicated maneuvers for a plow team and requires precise communication between driver and wing.
Delicately, Marani guided the Saltshaker through the strait, one inch at a time, while directing the right wing in an inch, then an inch forward, up a foot, an inch forward. It's as intricate as a tango until finally, the Syracuse Saltshaker came free and Marani could continue on his route.
At the end of my gig as a wingman, I am left with a new found respect for the mental and physical work it takes to clear our streets.
Marani added a final note, “If everyone's on the same side, you're not going to get a ticket. You're not. Just follow odd, even parking. It makes our job so much easier.”
And, if you wake up to find your street’s the last to be plowed, check to see if your car is on the wrong side of the odd-even rules, then check for the ticket on your windshield.
