I’m standing in the driveway in the tri-state area, staring at a windshield that looks like it lost a fight with an ice machine. My car is doing that sad little winter groan, my fingers are numb, and I’m already mentally in April.
Then I see it: Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow.
Six more weeks of winter.
I don’t know what’s worse — the weather or the fact that I immediately think: “Okay… how much is this going to cost me?”
Because around here, winter doesn’t just hit your mood. It hits your wallet. Between detours, idling, warming the car up “for one minute” that turns into ten… fuel disappears.
So I do what any reasonable person does at the edge of sanity:
I grab a coffee, open a calculator, and create something completely fake—but based on real numbers:
The “Shadow Surcharge”
I’m using weekly price data from the U.S. Energy Information Administration. For the week ending February 2, 2026, regular gasoline shows a + $0.014 per gallon change versus the prior week.
So for this story, I declare:
Phil’s Shadow Surcharge = 1.4 cents per gallon (not real… but the weekly change is).
Now I need my local “starting line.” AAA has New Jersey regular at $2.866 per gallon as of February 3, 2026.
Alright. Let’s price out my misery.
My commuter math
I’m not trying to be fancy—just realistic enough to feel personally attacked:
- 600 miles per week (commute + errands + life)
- 30 miles per gallon
- Six more weeks of winter = 6 weeks
Miles in six weeks: 600 × 6 = 3,600 miles
Gallons burned: 3,600 ÷ 30 = 120 gallons
Now the two costs:
Fuel cost at NJ average: 120 × $2.866 = $343.92
Shadow Surcharge cost: 120 × $0.014 = $1.68
So my grand total for “Phil Winter Season,” fuel + surcharge?
$343.92 + $1.68 = $345.60
I stare at the number for a second.
A dollar-sixty-eight. That’s what Phil’s shadow “costs me” (in this made-up universe).
Honestly? I expected worse.
Then it hits me: the money isn’t the problem.
It’s the feeling.
It’s scraping ice. It’s gray skies at 4:45 PM. It’s salt crust on my floor mats. It’s standing in a Wawa parking lot thinking, “How is it still February?”
So I let myself drift. I picture warm air. Windows down. Shore traffic. Boardwalk fries. Beach days. Spring nights where you don’t need to dress like an Arctic explorer to take out the trash.
And then—because life is cruel—I remember the other part of fuel reality:
When spring actually shows up… more people drive.
And historically, gasoline prices tend to rise in the spring and peak in late summer, in part because people drive more and because gasoline blends change seasonally.
I actually say it out loud:
“Ugh.”
So yes—winter is annoying.
But spring isn’t exactly a free ride either.
Which means my true forecast for the next few months is simple:
- Winter: I pay in attitude and windshield scraper debt
- Spring: I pay in optimism and maybe a little more per gallon
- Summer: I pay in road trips, beach runs, and “why is this traffic still here?”
Either way, the best plan is the same: keep your head, keep your tank reasonably topped, and don’t let one week’s price change ruin your day.
Ross Enterprises (Ross Fogg): Compliant, Reliant & Mission Ready.
Disclaimer: This is a fun, not-serious story using public price data and made-up driving assumptions to keep the math easy to follow.