When I was a kid, we were going home late one spring night in Vermont when my mother's Chevy Citation couldn't go any further. We walked the rest of the way home. The next day three of the tires were suspended in air, the car sitting on a big ol' rock that stayed while the rest of the road didn't. That's my benchmark as to a muddy road.Pffft. My share house at Killington was on a muddier road (in Spring)