As usual, our trip up north was delayed until late in the week. We were expecting several large parcels in the mail and didn’t want to leave Toronto until they arrived. We had ordered samples of a metal roof we are seriously considering, and were also waiting for a package from Kamloops, BC, containing samples of the logs we are definitely using to build our house. We needed those log pieces on which to test different stains. When both packages finally arrived, we set out on Friday afternoon. On our way up, we visited a large fireplace store near Barrie to look at wood and propane stoves, and then we were to visit a window and door store in Bracebridge. We made both stops, but we were late arriving at the window store. By the time we finished with the window guy, it was dark and snowing quite heavily. After a quick pizza in Huntsville, wolfed down in the car (Jasper wasn’t allowed in the restaurant and we wanted to keep the car warm enough for her), we set out on the last 30Km of our trip up to the cottage on Little Doe Lake in Katrine. The snow continued to fall.
Between Huntsville and Katrine, we fell into one of the worst snow squalls I have ever experienced on the road. Had I not been following a large truck, I’d have had no idea where I was going. I still didn’t have a clue, but figured that, when the truck hit whatever obstacle popped up, then I’d stop. No flies on me. Turning off at an exit was not an option, because I simply couldn’t see one, and there was no indication where the road ended and the shoulder began. Perhaps I was foolish to keep going, but I reasoned that we were in more danger stopping on the highway and therefore running the risk of death by snowplow (or by clueless driver). There must have been 20 cars behind me in the same predicament. Boldly (read completely lacking common sense), I crept along at 20-30 KPH and prayed for a clearing. I think my Buffalo roots kicked in, and I channeled with the younger Jamie … that moron who thought nothing of heading down to ski country in the Western New York Southern Tier snow belt, on a Friday night (drunk night), in a blizzard. Heck, we Buffalonians EAT that kind of weather for breakfast. Nevertheless, I WAS a little out of practice. Shauna was a nervous wreck and, after about 40 minutes of this white knuckle driving, I was a bit frazzled myself. Finally, about 5 Km south of Katrine, the weather cleared, a bit. What had been a complete whiteout devolved into merely a blinding snowstorm. Eventually, we made it to our cottage, and although the new, long driveway had not been recently plowed, we were able to make it down the road with relative ease. A trip from Huntsville to Katrine, that should have taken 20 minutes, took well over an hour. Thank goodness for our new Acura MDX. I cannot say enough about the handling of that vehicle in the snow.
The cottage was predictably cold, but thankfully our builder had turned up the space heaters in anticipation of our arrival. I reconnected the water lines, turned on the pump, and immediately heard water gushing from another room. I assumed a pipe had burst, but as it turned out, I’d left a drain line open when I drained down the system a few weeks before. Oops, better mop that up. At least there were no frozen pipes. I fired up our (not air tight) wood-eating stove, and then we had running water and (some) heat. Damp and tired, we collapsed into the couch and reclining chair for an uncomfortable sleep.
It snowed constantly from Friday night until Sunday morning, dumping about 18” to 20” of additional snow on Katrine and the surrounding area. That’s a lot of snow! Apparently, we were unlucky enough to be in the center of a narrow band of lake effect snow blowing off Georgian Bay.
We cancelled a Saturday meeting we had scheduled in Huntsville, because our driveway was by then, impassible, and we called Harvey, our snow plow guy, to dig us out. I don’t know how many snow plow guys you know in the big city who will come and dig you out right after a snowstorm, on the same day you call, but good old reliable Harvey showed up Saturday night of all nights, safely enclosed in his large, heated tractor, and plowed our lengthy driveway. That was one dilemma addressed. Then, on Sunday, the temperature dropped to about –25 degrees Celsius, where it was predicted to remain all week. This is nostril-hair-freezing (and ear-hair-freezing, if you’re over 50) weather, and as I have said more than once, Nature is a Mother. We were low on stove wood, and I was expecting to be able to use our fireplace to burn our larger logs. I held off as long as I could, to save wood, but when I finally tried to light a fire in the fireplace, the cap at the top of the chimney was frozen shut and buried underneath a pile of snow. There was no way I was getting up on a ladder to try and remedy that situation, so the fireplace was not an option. We have been getting by so far on the heat from the wood stove, which needs to be stoked on the hour, and on four anemic electric space heaters. If we add ANY additional demand to the circuits, say a toaster oven or microwave, we immediately blow a 30 amp fuse and all the heaters and lights go off. The fuse box is outside and I can only replace fuses by taking my gloves off. The other day, as I was removing a blown fuse, it was so cold that the metal stuck to my fingers. Since I began this report on Wednesday, our Guardian Angel-like builder supplied us with enough firewood to hopefully see us through the duration of our stay, we can get out of our driveway, we have running (but not potable or hot) water, and we are well supplied with food (though I think barbecuing outdoors is out of the question). We had an important meeting with the builder yesterday, and although there is still much to do before we break ground, we are making good progress in this excruciatingly long process. I can’t believe we are still contemplating a winter start. I look around this little cabin and, perhaps for the first time, feel a bit sad that it may soon be gone. Shauna and Jasper are still asleep, buried underneath piles of bedding on the reclining leather chair, and I sit here avoiding the morning ritual of carrying Jasper though the thigh-deep snow for her morning pee and poop. I have shoveled for her a lovely restroom.
Absent the creature comforts of the city, up here we are constantly reminded of the need to respect Nature. We met with a lighting specialist on Sunday, who moved up here from Toronto with his wife several years ago, and I think he hit the nail on the head. In the city, we try to bend and manipulate Nature to accommodate our needs. Up here in the soon-to-be-saturated-with-city-folk Great White North, people adjust more willingly to the forces of Nature. I think that’s how it should be. Someday, all of this will be an amusing anecdote. This is “Grizzly” Oppenheimer, signing off.
-Written by Jamie Oppenheimer c2007 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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