The other night, during the Winter 2008-2009 Inaugural Traffic Snarl, I was bluntly reminded of one of the very few issues I have with Wauwatosa.

 

You see, as I’ve said here, many times, I’m a Tosa Enthusiast. I love all things Tosa, except for this. What’s the problem, you ask? Well, Tosa during a snowstorm can be like Mt. Everest – pretty to look at but tough to summit.

 

It was around 6:30 pm and I was returning home after an appointment in West Allis. Generally, that’s a 10 minute trip. I prepared for a delay, but didn’t expect the toughest part to be less than a mile from my home.

 

I exited the highway at 84^th Street and figured I’d take one of my many super-and-maybe-not-so-secret ways through the village. Great idea, except for during a sorta-snow/ice storm. The Harmonee Bridge was closed. It was gridlock. Nobody was moving.

 

If you know that area, you know that, near the Tosa Village, there are only two ways to get from south to north – The Harmonee Bridge or 70^th/68^th street. Everything in-between is off-limits…to cars, that is.

 

The other issue is that “north Tosa” is higher than “south Tosa” and the tiniest bit of ice can make it virtually impossible to get from one end of town to the next.

 

On a typical day, commuting through Tosa works pretty well. Sure, it’s a little putzy to navigate the streets where you can’t turn left during rush hour, but once you figure it out, it’s fine. During the “traffic snarl,” it was a nightmare. At one point, I considered abandoning my car and walking home. In fact, if I had done that, it probably would have lessened my one hour commute.

 

And so, in mid-November, I was slapped upside the head by Mother Nature. “It’s winter, dummy! Drive carefully!”

 

Sigh.

You know it’s autumn in Wauwatosa when you see the start of leaf piles on the side of the streets. In mid-September, they’re modest little mounds, sometimes highlighted by remnants of geraniums, impatiens and other varieties of expired annuals. By the end of October, they’ve grown in girth and are topped off with a pumpkin and a gourd or two. By early November, they’re the size of a small bungalow and create challenging “street slaloms,” much like those found on the east end of North Avenue, as mentioned by fellow blogger Norm Wahn.

When I was a child, leaf piles were a seasonal joy. They were so fun and tempting to jump into. But those were the days (jeez, I sound old) when the piles were on our lawns and my dad would burn them to get rid of them. In Tosa today, we’re advised to rake or blow them to the side of the streets where they will eventually get picked up by the city. It’s a great system, until you have to drive around these mammoth piles late in the season when they’ve been combined together on narrow streets like Ludington where two cars can barely pass each other on a sunny summer day. Caution and braking are definitely in order. And if you’re new to the area (listen up, Mitch!), do not even think of parking on top of or driving through a leaf pile. I know, it’s tempting when parking is scarce and you might have to walk an extra half-block to your house. But the sight of your car bursting into flames might make that walk seem shorter. And the thought of plowing through one of those piles sounds fun, but it can be really, really dangerous.

In a community blessed with so many trees, perhaps leaf piles, although sometimes annoying, are merely our seasonal reminder that it’s time to slow down and enjoy the view. It is spectacular, after all.