In this cold weather, it seems appropriate to raise the subject of the greatness of our vehicles, which are fighting through yet another winter. So here is mine:

A couple of years ago, I was going to work at about 4:30 a.m in my pickup truck during what turned out to be the second of three terrible floods that hit my area of Pennsylvania -- one after the other. It was pouring. At about 5:00, radio reports of severe flooding dictated I ought to turn back and head home. So I did. By the time I got to the road near my house which runs along the Delaware River, dawn was breaking and I could see the swollen Delaware literally lapping the side of the road. It was nervewracking. The river was about three feet from the RS tires of the truck, it was right at the guiderails of the road. I slowed down, opened the windows, took off my seatbelt, and proceeded, driving on the wrong side of the road, giving some space between myself and the river. There wasn't a car in sight. I made it about halfway home then had to stop and get out because the road ahead was completely washed out, and I started to worry that the hills above me would send a torrent of mud and debris down on me and wash me and the truck into the river. I got out of the truck and started walking back towards a road that led away from the river. There was a steep mountain ridge on my side, so I couldn't climb up. I needed a road. The road I wanted was about a half mile back. It was absolutely pouring. In the dim light of dawn, I saw a pair of headlights coming from the same direction that I had just come. I couldn't believe it. When the lights got close, lo and behold, it was a guy driving a maroon 240, 1980's sedan, splashing up the road. He saw me and stopped. I said, "How did you make it up that road? I just came from there." He said, "I don't know, but I tell you what, nobody else is coming that way." I told him the road ahead of us was washed out too. He suggested the tiny road I was walking towards, which led up a steep hill away from the river. He said it was still safe to get back to it if we hurried. I leaped into my truck, turned around, and followed him to that road, which climbed up a steep incline to safety. When we got to the top of the hill, he went his way, and I went mine.

That's the greatest Volvo 240 feat I ever saw. What's yours?