The condensed history and ongoing saga of my junk is here.
In the beginning, there was a couple of problems with winter life at the Hill.
Here is Mrs. and the big cat pretending to shovel out after I'd already, you know... shoveled out. Her fresh tire tracks/toasty warm ride evidence exhibits #1&2.
Next exhibit: lookit them piles, all hand stacked. Yowza.
Now get out all yer fingers and toes and multiply those by the 100 yards between that cozy little scene and the road that the town clears...
The final problem was that the neighbor was trying to hack away at the uphill long run with his farm tractor, no chains, and an extremely long plow mount that often resulted in his front wheels waving 'goodbye' to Sir Isaac and him having a hand half extended to the Reaper.
Now I dunno if all that convinced you,
but it did convince Mrs. and I was given the Green Light to pull the trigger on a better solution.