Driving down to 8A; a straight line through a haphazard mix of sun glare, flat sheets of horizon snow, warehouses and speeding SUVs. A terrifying near-collision as a car ahead of me blew out a tire; boxed in on the right and behind, I was forced onto the shoulder. I'm upset with myself for allowing it to happen. I think I was distracted, looking at the snow and sky, thinking that I wanted to describe to you the rhythm of the power lines' rising and falling against the skyline; normally I'm extremely conscientious about making sure I have several escape routes to follow should something unexpected happen. Going onto the shoulder was not a good thing; there's lots of broken glass and loose concrete.