Snow finds the open ground first — the flat acreage out by the old Flemington fairgrounds fills in while Main Street is still only dusted. Executive plows into that wind: business drives, parking areas, walkways and lots across the borough and the townships around it, cleared and salted through the night. Nothing about a storm is convenient at two in the morning, which is exactly why someone else ought to be out in it. The measure of a good night is a Tuesday that starts on schedule — no ruts, no glaze at the door, nobody guessing where the curb went. Hunterdon winters run long, and the trucks wait ready between them.