The very first time I was in a large truck with snow plow was at a little airport in a small town north of here. I was 18 years old and Harold the driver was about 180 years old. The airport was snowed in with 12" of snow, so no planes were going anywhere. All private planes. So he asked if I wanted to ride along while he did the runways. Sure! Why not.
So we go up and down the first runway a few times, and he picks up his coat that was sitting on the seat between us and there's a couple bottles of home made cherry wine. He hands me one, he takes the other, and off we go some more.
Plowing a mile long straight as an arrow runway over and over while drinking is kinda mesmerizing, to say the least.
Next thing I remember is waking up in the truck, looking around, and realizing we are at the police station. Uh oh! Well, I look better, and while yes, it is the police station, it's also the municipal garage. We're at the gas pumps and Harold is out talking to some cops while filling the tanks on the truck.
Apparently Harold could hold is liquor better than I. He finishes filling up, we drive back to the airport, and he puts me in the Willys Jeepster convertible with no top that had a plow on it and tells me to plow out the T hangers. Okey dokey.
Sitting in that open Jeepster plowing got me sobered up pretty quick.
The next spring I switched airports to the larger one here in town, and spent 6 winters plowing ramp and hangar areas. I really enjoyed it. Just put on the tunes and move the snow. Pretty relaxing. (no more drinking either).