THE INTOLERANCE FOR WINTER

Wednesday, March 19, 2008 (Napanee Beaver) 

Friday, March 21, 2008 (Picton Gazette)

Old timers, and I consider myself approaching the outer edge of that unflattering plateau in my life, are fond of talking about their youth, and how life was back in their day. Following the March 8^th snow storm, numerous e-mails came in from people who had grown weary of hearing the moaning and groaning from winter haters. One Trenton reader commented, "What’s the matter with everybody? Why, back when I was growing up, this was not a storm, it was a snow fall like we got all winter! If they dislike winter, why are they living here? "

Another fellow from the Picton area, after I asked him why he wasn’t outside playing in the snow, e-mailed back, " I guess because wisdom comes with 'age'. I'm sitting inside until this thing blows over! A wise old man told me once that weather cycles come around every 30 years......remember the winter of '77-78 ?"

There has been no storm quite like that memorable day in January, 1977 when the entire Quinte area shut down, except for snowmobiles. In one respect, it was not unlike our recent storm, separated in the middle by a lull, before being hit again. There were many Prince Edward County residents who thought the storm was over on the first day back in 1977, and once the roads were plowed, journeyed into Belleville. However, it was just a teaser and then the real storm hit later that day, preventing all but a few from returning home. The big problem was not so much the amount of snow which fell, although it was 100 cm (39 inches), but the severity of the wind and the density of the snow. The snow was so firm, that once the storm was over, I was able to drive my garden tractor over the surface of it, and not break through. Consequently snowplows experienced considerable difficulty making any kind of an impact on the snow clogged roads at all, and any rural areas that felt the fury from the prevailing westerlies were left for days before the huge snowblowers from CFB Trenton arrived and cut a tunnel through so the plows could work at it from there. Along our road, the township’s huge road grader/maintainer was unable to make a dent in even the first drift that crossed the road just north of our driveway. It left behind the perfect imprint of the huge snow blade in the drift. Word of the novelty snow sculpture spread quickly, and there was a steady parade of motorists arriving to have their picture taken against the imprint.

One year later, almost to the day, another similar storm with high winds dumped a massive quantity of snow in the same road. I had managed to make it over to the farm with a four wheel drive Jeep pick-up to do the evening chores and milk the cows, but when I started the return trip three hours later, the winds were so strong that even the utility poles that I had come to depend on for some guidance as to where the road might be, often disappeared in the swirling snow. The one kilometre drive took more than 20 minutes and after weaving around abandoned cars, I finally came to a Volkswagen Beetle that had stalled out just a stone’s throw from our driveway, and three other cars behind it that were unable to get by. With barely a word said, four of us grabbed the bumpers of the Volkswagen and manually lifted the car to the shoulder of the road, with the driver still in it! I can still see his surprised look, his hands fiercely clutching the steering wheel as though somehow assisting us in the direction he now found himself going. Another person whose car had stalled that same day left his vehicle in the centre of the road, even though there was plenty of room on the bare shoulder for him to roll it backwards and leave it out of the way. Then, for reasons best known to himself, locked it and took the keys with him. The following day the plow comes along, and with a wide smile on the driver’s face, manages to squeeze by the car, but not before completely burying the it under a mountain of snow. No matter what the situation, there is always humour to be found.

In those days we coped with weather extremes as in a rural community there was never anything so pressing that it couldn’t wait for another day. With so many commuters now, compared to earlier years when most rural residents farmed, we have come to expect more from our county roads department. One Belleville official even admitted that residents today "demand" that roads and highways be kept in summer like conditions, presumably because we refuse to leave for work earlier or slow down due to weather conditions. Consequently, winter driving has become an exercise in driving through a perpetual sea of salt, and God forbid if the county roads department should falter. These demands come with a hefty price tag. It is easy to understand why some municipalities are close to using up their snow removal budget when March isn’t even over, and there is still December of the current year to go through next winter.

Stories the old timers relate about snow amounts and hardships are seldom exaggerated. Likely few of us would want to go back to those days, but it was a time when we accepted what winter dolled out, and we took it all in stride. As one e-mailer said, "Who are we to complain anyway? We chose to live here."