Reliving some big storms

Recent weather brings back memories from across the country

Weather? Let me tell you about weather I have experienced.

As we were visited by the polar vortex last weekend, it reminded me of some the winter storms I have survived over the years. I was going to go chronologically but then thought maybe I’d go from the slightly worst to the absolutely worst winter weather I’ve seen.

There was a winter when I lived on St. Margaret’s Bay and I had to get to Halifax to help get that weekly paper, The 4th Estate, out. I really was quite dedicated. It was blizzarding. I managed to get a ride to the highway and waved down a bus. It was quite the trip into the city. I can’t remember how I got home but the trip in still sticks in my brain.

Living near St. John’s, N.L., in the winter was always a treat. The one storm I remember there absolutely shut the city down. Vehicles couldn’t move – not any kind of vehicle! A little crowd headed towards the Holiday Inn on the corner of Prince Philip Drive and Portugal Cove

Road. By the time we got there, the placed was “blocked” as they say there. There were people lying on the lobby floor. We were in a room with a whole bunch of merry folks and waited until the storm blew out and the plows hit the streets.

There was the winter in southern Alberta when the snow hit viciously. I was into my second day without cigarettes. I know, I know – I did quit a few years later. I called down to the ranch next door, well, not exactly next door in the urban sense but the closest. Yes, there were ciggies there, but the dreaded menthol ones.

I took a deep breath and asked if I could get a drive down, please. We made it down in four-wheel drive. Note the word “down” connoting a hill. We did not make it back up. We had about half a kilometre to go, slogging through the snow, wind whipping up that snow and I think I could hear a few choice words. I got to the top of a hill behind the house, lost my balance and gracefully rolled down to the porch shrieking with laughter. I don’t think I ever finished those green ciggies. I hope I gave them back minus a few, of course.

The next to last one was here in Centrelea quite a few years ago.

The wind blew. It snowed a lot. The power went out. I was producing an online newsletter that had to go out around 10 each morning. I’ve forgotten which internet connection I had at the time, but it was out as well. I called my excellent friends across the road. By some miracle they had power. So, I got a ride and took my laptop down the hill and set up on their dining room table and got that day’s edition out.

Then we started wondering why they had power, and we didn’t. You know those funny looking things on the power poles – they are called transformers – well, ours had gone berserk or something. They came with a long pole and spoke sharply to that transformer and presto chango, we had power.

I’m saving the worst one to last. I have mentioned that I lived in Rankin Inlet on the western shore of Hudson Bay in the 1980s. It came time for me to leave and go to a new CBC job in Inuvik. The Ottawa brass was in town to do interviews for my replacement. They were a jolly crew. We all were asked to dinner at my boss’ house three doors down from my trailer.

By the time it was time for the Ottawa gang to walk down to the Siniktarviq Hotel, the blizzard came in. One thing you should know about blizzards in Rankin Inlet is they all come from Baker Lake. Yes, you will need your Google map to find it. There is nothing but tundra between Baker and Rankin to hinder this wind. I should also mention that most of our belongings had been packed in boxes while one of our two dogs and my husband were already in Inuvik. Our lovely black Lab Lindsay stayed with me. She was nine and blind.

So, there we were – three Qallunaat – hanging on to each other, head down for as long as we could, and then turning around backing into the wind until the wind seemed to suck the breath from us. We had to hold on tight! We got to my place, and they weren’t going any further that night.

So, Elaine Sykes, the human resources manager, borrowed something from me to wear and assistant regional director for CBC Northern Service Austin Curley got out the vodka. I checked the fridge. The only thing in there was orange juice. With the dog happily bumping into boxes and visiting everyone, we had a long evening of sharing stories. Austin slept on the too short couch. We woke up to a glorious day, the two got to the hotel and I winged my way to the next Northern adventure.

And my big storm stories have been told. They brought back great memories of excellent friends and unusual places.