Wednesday, Feb. 05, 2003
Dear Diary:

As I see it, there are two possibilities here: either

a) my municipality is trying to turn Quebec Winter Driving into a demonstration sport for the next winter Olympics or

b) they're trying to interest the Extreme Sports crowd in it--you know, the people who are jaded by the single man luge and want some REAL thrills.

Fine.

I knew things would be exciting because of yesterday's weather. First it was warm enough to reduce the thin layer of snow on the road to slush, then there was freezing rain to coat everything with a crisp layer of ice, and then after dark came winds that sounded like freight trains, bringing with them sub-zero temperatures.

Think rink and you have the basic state of the roads on my side of the border.

Not like Vermont. Oh, no, those sissypants down in Vermont plow their roads right down, coat them liberally with sand and salt. Heck, unless there's been a fresh blizzard, most of the winter you're driving on actual pavement down there. I ask you people, Where Is The Sport In That?

My thoughts, exactly.

The winds were still roaring when we got up this morning and you couldn't see the mountains across the valley because they were obscured by snow--it wasn't snowing, it was just blowing so freaking hard that it was creating whiteouts.

Fine.

The spousal unit knows better than to try to order me to do something. That way lies madness. But he does say things like, "I really, really wish you wouldn't go to the gym today."

I told him that the township had had lots of time to sand the road, that I would drive carefully, and besides, I only had to drive about three miles and I'd be on the sissypants roads of Vermont. He looked dubious, but he didn't say any more.

So I walked down to the road where the full horror of the situation hit me. Oh, yes, they'd sanded the road. There were teaspoons upon teaspoons of sand on the road. Clearly the municipality sent out a one man crew equipped with the small plastic beach bucket and shovel ensemble we all had when we were kids.

Fine.

I backed the Marnmobile out of the garage on to the rink road and drove at a speed so slow that had there been anyone going down my road with a walker they would have been banging on my car and yelling at me to speed up.

Fine.

I made it to the village and the small two lane highway that takes me to Vermont. This is where the true fun set in and the Quebec Highway Department lived up to its motto: "If we don't make you want to pee your pants, then tabernouche, Someone Hasn't Been Doing Their Job."

See, the law here stipulates that a road is considered adequate for the winter if the center dividing line is visible. So what my municipality does is half-heartedly plow and then dump a fair bit of salt and sand into the middle of the road so that all important dividing line is visible.

This means that the only part of the road where there is true traction is the middle of the road, making that a very desirable place to have the wheels of your car. This turns our little two lane highway into a rousing game of Let's Play Chicken.

Well, obviously, I made it to the gym and back unscathed but Jeezum Crow I had my moments. There's good reason why my hair turned white when I was in my 40's.

So, like I said before, if you find that bungee jumping off suspension bridges, paragliding through narrow canyons, or jumping over 22 cars with your motorcycle just isn't giving you the adrenaline buzz you crave, well I May Have The Sport For You.

Why not mosey on up to my neck of the woods and try some Quebec Winter Driving, eh?

--Marn

Mileage on the Marnometer: 67.81 miles (108.3 kilometers) Ten percent there rubber duck.
Goal for 2003: 500 miles - 804.5 kilometers

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Old Drivel - New Drivel


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Want to delve into my sordid past?
She's mellllllllllllllting - Wednesday, Feb. 15, 2012 - Back off, Buble - Monday, Dec. 19, 2011 - Dispersed - Monday, Nov. 28, 2011 - Nothing comes for free - Monday, Nov. 21, 2011 - None of her business - Friday, Nov. 04, 2011 -


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