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No Need to Throng for Milk or TP

By Ashley Halsey III
Washington Post Staff Writer
Wednesday, January 7, 2009

The curse of Washington's winter weather descended on the region yesterday as the temperature bounced around the magic mark that turns rain to ice, the dreaded slippery stuff that can paralyze virtually everything.

Sometimes the threat of ice is enough to cause traffic to creep and some schools to close early, and the region saw both yesterday. But mostly it was just another dreary day in a week that promises to have more. By 8 p.m., the temperature near Washington was 32 degrees in some places, a degree higher in others, and the air filled with fog, mist, drizzle and light rain.

Schools closed early in Frederick County, a few stoplights malfunctioned in Montgomery County and the evening rush period was crippled by fear, but very little real glaze was on the pavement.

"We dodged a small bullet," said National Weather Service spokeswoman Jackie Hale.

The escape will be complete if this morning's temperatures follow the forecast and climb steadily toward the 40-degree mark. The rain, however, is expected to continue through the day.

The "small bullet" could have become a weather bomb if the wind had picked up.

"If the winds were just a few miles per hour stronger, the temperature would have dropped," said Greg Schoor, a National Weather Service meteorologist, "and we could have had a major ice storm."

That is the story of Washington in January.

The capital region is notorious for sultry summers that chase Congress into recess and sweating tourists into air conditioning, but some think the winter weather deserves greater disdain.

Farther north, the worst winter weather can be plowed away. Farther south, all it requires is a stout umbrella. Washington's curse is to lie between them, where neither snow nor rain is uncommon but where sleet and freezing rain are more likely and potentially more crippling.

The misery margin is a matter of degrees. The average temperature for January is three degrees above freezing. At 34.9 degrees, most of the 3.2 inches of average monthly precipitation comes as rain.

At the average high, 42 degrees, it probably rains. At the average low, 27 degrees, it probably snows. Between the two, it's anybody's guess. But what's come to be known as a "wintery mix" is a safe bet.

How often do weather professionals have to make that call each winter?

"A lot of times," Schoor said, chuckling. "A lot of times. It's never a dull moment."

Through the lense of history, it's easy to understand why "wintery mix" was first used by a local weather forecaster.

Jan. 6 in recent years has been a good example. Although it has been unusually warm then in the past two years, the high temperature was 37 and the low 30 in 2006 and the high was 33 and the low 24 in 2004. Perfect days for "wintery mix," had anything fallen from above.

"Wintery mix" proved devastating Jan. 14, 1999. The high that day was 36, the low was 28 and the precipitation was less than two-tenths of an inch -- all ice.

"The forecast on that one wasn't that bad, but the ice just moved a little bit closer and we got hit bad," recalled Pepco spokesman Bob Dobkin. "The worst thing you can get hit with is an ice storm."

A quarter-inch of ice can cause problems, and at half an inch or more, "it gets bad" for Pepco, Dobkin said.

That night, a thick casing of ice brought down hundreds of power lines throughout the region. About 400,000 residents, including 230,000 Pepco customers, were left without power.

Because of high winds the next day and a shortage of repair crews, many people lacked lights or heat for five days.

Commuters were stranded when Metro's backup systems faltered, and escalators and elevators stalled as they tried to reach the surface.

A 26-car accident occurred on the Dulles Access Road, and a multi-car crash on the American Legion Bridge shut down the Beltway.

At least 30 school buses skidded off the road or into other vehicles, and emergency rooms filled up with people who had fallen on the ice.

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