How to drive in the snow

There’s a voice that keeps on calling me, through the snow, that’s where I’ll always be.  Every stop I make, can’t get started again.  Just hit the gas, hold on fast, and I’ll pass again.

Okay, so that lame attempt to rewrite the Littlest Hobo theme song has been brought to you by an early Saturday attempt to blog (early? it’s 11:34!)

In honour of all the winter weather which has cursed blessed us with mounds of snow, I’d like to offer my tips for driving in snowy, slippery conditions.

As someone who commutes two hours every day, I know a few things about driving in the winter.

These are my stories.

Dum, dum.

• Always remember to wear or carry warm winter clothes in your car.  You never know when you’ll have to walk out of Timbuktu because your car is mired in a snowbank the size of Ski Martock.  May I suggest a geek hat, homemade mittens, and mukluks?

• Coffee.  When you’re driving along at 50 kilometres an hour because the road looks like sloppy icing sugar, you’ll be glad you have something to keep you awake.

• Inspirational music.  Have a mixture of peppy music like Eye of the Tiger to get your game face on.  You’ll need this when you have to increase your speed to get up a steep hill.  Nothing feels like you’re going to die more than accelerating to beat the foot of snow trying to slow your car down.

• Calming music.  When you’re behind a snow plow driving 30 kilometres an hour in blinding, hypnotic snow watching that blinding, hypnotic yellow snow plow light, you’ll be glad to have something soothing like Sarah McLachlan.   Otherwise you’ll go Here’s Johnny! stark raving mad.

• A shovel.  Whether you take your road rage out on a fellow driver or need to shovel your car out of a snow drift, you’ll be glad you have a shovel.  Better than using your hands.

• A candle and (obviously) something with which to light it.  Supposedly this will keep you warm if you get stranded.  Also, if your car breaks down and you don’t want to fix it, you have an alternate solution to taking it to the garage.

• Food.  If you get stuck, then you don’t have to go all Alive on your passengers.  (I’m pretty plump, so I’d probably be the first to be eaten.)  Energy bars will do the trick unless you’re Hannibal Lecter.

• Flashlight.  For lighting the way or telling ghost stories if you’re stuck.  And no one ever found his car again… muwhahahahahaha *cough* ha.

• A cell phone or OnStar.  This is for your weakest moment when you have to bail and call for help.

• No fear.  You should have a healthy humbleness in regards to winter driving, yes.  But you should also steel yourself for conditions that would make lesser drivers quiver in their seats.  Too much fear distracts you and makes you jerk your steering wheel too much.

• Drive as though you have three cranky but sleeping babies in your backseat.  This should ensure you’re gentle at the controls, braking softly, steering gently.

• Winter tires.  I can’t stress this enough.  You must have winter tires if you live in an area with any amount of snow and ice.  The compound is softer, for more traction, and the thick treads channel away snow and slush.  Plus, if you don’t get winter tires, I’ll be cursing you when I’m stuck behind you and you start sliding down a hill backwards.  Do us both a favour and get winter freakin’ tires!

• And in regards to winter tires, get all freakin’ four!  Especially if you have a front wheel drive.  Front wheel drive plus only two snow tires on the front = Ice Capades.  Your arse end will slide around on you every time you brake, hit a bump, hit the gas (need I go on?)  Trust me, been there, done that!  I now drive with four winter beauties on my car.

• And finally, when in doubt, pray to Jebus or start singing Soft Kitty.
  

  I think this summarizes it best.

Saying good-bye to Ashpan Annie, one of the last survivors of the Halifax Explosion

Like a tattered quilt, snow covered what remained of the north end of Halifax.

Debris poked up through the white like blackened knees.  Smoke curled up to the sky, even though the blizzard extinguished the most aggressive of the flames.

Campbell Road (now Barrington Street) looking north to the area which experienced the most dreadful devastation in the December 8, 1917 explosion in Halifax, Nova Scotia.

Such was the scene when a young soldier heard a baby crying.

Searching out the source of the noise, Benjamin Henneberry found a toddler tucked beneath the ashpan of a stove.  The young girl had minor injuries and burns, but had miraculously survived both the destruction of her home and the blizzard which hit the day after the explosion.

Though Private Henneberry was convinced the girl was his, while in the hospital, the toddler called out to a passing aunt.  That aunt identified her as Annie Liggins, and if not for that accidental meeting, she might have been raised as Olive Henneberry.

Unfortunately for Henneberry, none of his family survived the explosion and Annie was returned to her family.

In many ways, Annie was lucky.  She was the only person in her house to survive.  Both her mother and four-year-old brother were standing near a window watching the munitions ship Mont Blanc burn after colliding with a large relief ship, the Imo.  Sparks from the collision begat a fire, which enveloped the ship’s hazardous cargo of materials (TNT to name one.)

The miraculous part of the story: when the Mont Blanc exploded into a million pieces and her house collapsed, Annie was thrown into the nearby ashpan as her house fell down around her, killing her mother and brother.

Even more amazing, the leftover heat from the stove kept Annie from freezing during the blizzard.

Annie’s story made her a journalist’s darling.  Newspapers ran with it: Ashpan Annie, the miracle baby.  That she survived with only minor burns from the stove is best fitted to Ripley’s Believe it or Not.

Ashpan Annie’s father was serving in France when the explosion occurred.  He eventually returned and remarried.

Annie grew up.  Married.  Had children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.

This weekend, at 95 years young, Ashpan Annie died, sometime between Friday night and Saturday morning, an old lady warm in her bed.  In fact, she resided at the Berkeley, one of the finer residential homes for the senior set, the Cadillac of special care facilities.

Survivors of the Halifax explosion are passing on, given that it has been almost 93 years since the disaster, which killed nearly 2,000 people, literally in the blink of an eye.

Hearing stories of survival from those who experienced one of the world’s largest human-made disasters is a privilege that will soon be gone.  All that will be left are books and recordings of those willing to remember, like Janet Kitz’s extensive research or the University of Kings College’s slideshow of Ashpan Annie’s story.  Click here.

Rest in peace Annie Liggins Welsh, probably with her family once again for the first time in 93 years.