Six o'clock on a December morning and Newaygo is a handful of lit windows, a river running black under the bridge, and one truck moving. The Key Guy is out on the snow route by then, opening drives and doorways so the rest of town can start whenever it likes. The heavy, wet snow this county gets from the west sets up fast once the cold follows it in, which makes the first pass the one that counts. There is a real pleasure in the last stop of a route: sunrise coming up over the pines, every drive behind you cleared, the day handed back to the people who live in it.