Last Sunday was the first snow in Northern Virginia. I left the house at a little after 11, just as the snow was beginning. It was only supposed to be less than an inch, and it was well below freezing, so I wasn't too worried. I stopped on the way to get gas, and noticed that it had gone down 10c a gallon overnight. I had wanted to fill up before the snow, so as to be prepared, but it turned out to be worth waiting. It was snowing pretty hard by the time I got where I was going, and there was at least an inch on the ground when I left at a little after 2 PM. On I-81, traffic was fairly heavy, but moving along at about 45. The left lane had not been treated, and was much better---the snow blew right off of the cold asphalt, but the de-icer on the right caused it to stick and turn into slush. About a mile before my exit, traffic began to slow. A car and a van had collided, and the car spun out and ended up behind the guard rail. I'm still not sure exactly how it got to where it came to rest. People were standing around, nobody seemed to be hurt, only sheet metal damage. I took a picture out the window but it didn't turn out very well. Past the accident, as I accelerated, I could tell it had gotten very slippery--the car kept wanting to go sideways if I gave it more than the slightest whiff of throttle. I got to the exit, took it, and found that the road was covered in snow, with two sets of tire tracks approximately where the lanes were. I didn't want to go faster than about 25. Made it through town, crossed the railroad tracks and barely made it up the short steep hill on the other side. The road here was unbroken snow, with no evidence any vehicles had gone by in quite a while. I found that I could make about 12-15 MPH in second gear, barely touching the gas, trying not to think about my four Blizzaks, mounted, balanced, ready to go, stacked in the shed at home. A couple miles from the house is a big hill, long, steep and with a couple of turns going up. I was not looking forward to it. I took as much of a run as I dared, and hit it at about 25. About halfway up, I saw flashing blue lights ahead. I thought "Oh, no, there's been a wreck, I don't want to have to stop on this hill and try to turn around" As I inched closer (down to 10 MPH or less) I saw that the police car was in the ditch, on the wrong side of the road. He had been unable to make it up, and then slid of the road sideways from spinning his wheels. I kept a steady foot on the gas, and crept past at around 6-8 MPH, and just as I got to the top the back end of the car started to go to the right. I took my foot off and it straightened right out. It gave me great satisfaction to think of that cop sitting there watching, after having failed so miserably in his attempt...... I wasn't quick enough on the draw to get a picture, and I had my hands full keeping the car on the road. Oh well. I hope nobody ran into him, as he was on the wrong side of the road, just over a blind hill. It took me about 15 minutes to go the next two miles, but I got there, though I've made better time on my bike when it was nice out.