Roy sits close enough to Hill Air Force Base that jets cut overhead on a training run even on a gray winter afternoon, a reminder before the day's plowing is even done that this is still a working stretch of the valley. Out past the rooftops to the west, the flat light off the Great Salt Lake turns pale amber at dusk, about the time the last driveways on a route are getting their final pass. Hauling snow off a lot is different work than just pushing it aside — a packed pile at the end of a driveway takes up space a homeowner wants back, and moving it clear entirely means the whole surface reads flat and usable again, not just plowed. Roy's streets run in a plain, practical layout, easy to work end to end, one load at a time. There's a particular satisfaction in leaving a driveway not just clear but empty, no gray mound of leftover snow shoved into a corner to melt slow all week. By the time the jets go quiet for the evening, the piles are gone and the pavement underneath is bare from curb to garage.