Growing up here, I despised the cold and snow. At 6 a.m., 58 years ago, my stepdad Roger and I were driving the team toward the silage pit. The temperature was 15 degrees below zero and it was snowing hard. We had to go a quarter-mile north, then a quarter-mile west. When going north, the wind was blowing south, hitting us head-on at about 40 mph. It was a full-on blizzard! One of us would turn our back to the wind while the other drove the team until our fingers became too cold to hold the driv...