From Gore Vidal's "Burr", page 380:

Muffled against the arctic air, I walked through the darkening grey streets, trying not to slip on frozen cobbles, to avoid snow bitches, to stay out of the path of the sleighs with their ominous thin tinkle and clatter of bells, and their terrifying propensity to slide wildly out of control, smashing the legs of horses - and of the poor who like myself walk.

So, what is a snow bitch?

Bingley