My poor bike was covered in ice for days on end and it took some time for it to warm up. I had moved it before the first snow into a shelter that was being used to dry out the weed. Before I could even get to the road, I would have to travel three quarters of a mile through foot deep untouched snow up a hill. Trying to do this with my motorcycle alone, packed with a fully loaded bike and 50 lb backpack was simply impossible. My boss pulled their quad up to my bike and wrapped a car towing strap around the front forks of my bike. In what I can only characterize as the most brilliant and dangerous backwoods towing job I’ve ever come across, we inched up the hill, essentially being dragged and sledded by my boss riding in reverse. Miraculously, I had made it to the top and said goodbye to my kind employer.