...about my parent's driveway.

When I was in elementary school my parents were forced to sell our family beef farm. Long story and maybe a topic for a future post. We moved from 700 acres to a little duplex in town and then eventually to the house that we now all think of as home. My parent's house is unusual. It is a 4-level, split-level house. It is also unusual in that it is at the top of a very long, very steep, curvy driveway. If you have ever been to our house, you know what I'm talking about. I wish I had a picture of this driveway on my harddrive. I'll have to find one and post it another day. It was a totally cool driveway. It curved so that you couldn't see the house from the road, ensuring our complete privacy. It had a steep slope on one side and a drop off on the other side. It made for some interesting stories in the winter. That driveway was much loved and hated in our family. I have a couple stories about that driveway.

Blowing and Sanding

We lived in Prince George, British Columbia. When I was a kid we had very severe winters. To make it up the driveway in the winter a very strict routine was required. My Dad was in charge of this routine and he was very particular about it. First, someone had to snowblow the driveway. This could be a very tough job. Our snowblower was a second-hand machine we inherited with the house when we bought it. It did the job, but not very willingly...and it was heavy. My Dad was usually the person to man this machine. He had a very particular way of doing the blowing, you had to make sure that you blew the snow off the drop-off and not try to blow it up the slope. Depending on the amount and the wetness of the snow, this job could take between 30 to 60 minutes. At -30 degrees Celsius, this is not a fun job. It was usually after the snowblowing that us kids came into the picture. Because, after the snowblowing came the sanding. My Dad would have stockpiled sand collected during the fall. He would have sifted it and made sure that it stayed dry so it wouldn't be wet and frozen solid. We were instructed to grab the largest bucket we could find and start our sanding. We started at the top and only sanded the areas that the tires would be running over. We would walk down that hill shaking the upturned buckets back and forth, back and forth, and then run back up the hill to refill. It took quite a few buckets to do the entire road. It's a good thing there was 7 of us. Later, as the winters became more mild and my parents invested in all-wheel or 4-wheel drive vehicles, we were less diligent with this routine. But I always remember walking up and down that hill spreading sand.

Just Do What I Say

Even when that driveway was free of ice and snow, that driveway was a difficult stretch of road. You basically had to gun the engine at the bottom to make it up that driveway. You couldn't be tentative. You could find yourself having to back down that driveway. Which was very difficult! Even for us, who drove that driveway every day could find ourselves in trouble trying to back down that driveway. We always told people to "punch it" to make it up the hill. But people didn't always listen to us.

For instance, when I was in grade 11 I once accepted a ride home from school with Mark and Billy and Angie. I wasn't supposed to do this, I was supposed to ride the school bus. But I figured my parents would never know. So, as we approached my driveway, I told Mark, who was driving, to just let me off at the bottom of the hill and I would walk up. It had snowed for the first time that winter and there was a light dusting of snow on the driveway and Mark had never driven up my driveway, better not to take the chance. He pulled into the driveway and stopped at the bottom. I expected Billy to climb out and let me out of the 2 door sedan. Ha! Why didn't I expect it? Mark and Billy looked at each other, then looked up that driveway, then back at each other and nodded. I think I shouted, "No!" but I can't be sure. From a dead stop, Mark stepped on the gas. We only made it halfway up the hill before we started to spin out and then slip backwards. Mark stupidly stomped on his gas pedal harder...

...we ended up perfectly perpendicular to our intended trajectory. In other words, we were sideways on a very steep, very long, very curvy, very slippery, very narrow (remember slope on one side, drop-off on the other side) driveway.

Remember, I wasn't supposed to be getting rides home from friends. We all climbed carefully out of the car and assessed the situation. My vote was for leaving it there and waiting for my parents that were due home in about half an hour. My Dad would know what to do. Angie agreed with me. Those boys? They decided they could push the nose down and it would flip around and end up pointing down the hill and they could simply drive away. I was very against this insane idea. But Mark and Billy were set on it. So, they convinced Angie to sit in the front and hold the wheel so the front wheels were pointing the correct direction. I told her to leave the door open and jump out if things went bad, which I was sure was going to happen. Mark and Billy moved around to the front of the car on the top side and started to push the nose of the car.

This was the result...

Yup, when the car simply started to slip forwards, despite Angie holding that wheel until I screamed for her to jump out. The car slowly...very slowly...slipped over the edge. Miraculously it missed the trees lining the edge of the driveway and it also missed the retaining wall near the bottom of the hill. It ended up standing on its nose between the shed at the bottom of hill and the driveway.

We four stood on the driveway and looked down at Mark's car standing there on its nose. I started to laugh. I was in so much trouble. My Dad was going to freak! But that car and Mark's expression was so funny. We climbed up the hill and called a tow truck and waited for my parents to arrive.

The 'rents got there first.

They just laughed. And laughed and laughed and laughed. I didn't even get yelled at!

The tow truck came and he laughed, then he just slipped all over the place. He couldn't help us. Mark's Dad came and he didn't laugh. The car stayed there, on its nose, through the night and was eventually pulled out by this huge industrial tow truck the next day.

And you know what???

There wasn't even a dent on that car.

Personal Trainer

Us kids just loved that driveway (excluding the sanding). I remember running up and down that driveway to get in shape for basketball. I would set a goal, say 10 hills, and then huff and puff up that driveway. That driveway contributed to each of our basketball scholarships in a very important way. The only complaints were when the ball started to roll down that driveway. That sucked.

Even today, that driveway is providing health benefits. My Grandparents walk up and down that driveway, every day (when its not slippery) for their exercise.

Making Friends

I don't know how many people we have had to dig out of that driveway's snowbanks. I think the funniest was Larry Gerry, RCMP. My Mom was given a speeding ticket by this very serious, very black (we live in Prince George, we didn't see very many black people back then, and he was very black, midnight black) policeman. That night, we had a knock on our door. It was Mr. Policeman, Larry Gerry. He said he had made an error on the ticket and would like to change it. My Mom gave him the ticket, he changed the date and gave it back and then, very nicely asked my Dad to assist him by digging his cruiser out of our snowbank. My Dad put on his parka, grabbed his shovel and followed Larry out the door. As Larry started down the hill, he started slipping (his police-issued shoes were leather-soled and didn't have any grip). My Dad stood at the top of the hill and watched Larry Gerry, the black policeman, awkwardly skate and slip and flail his way down the hill. My Dad describes it as comical, the way his feet skittered and he alternately ran in one spot and skied down the hill until his feet completely went out from underneath him and he landed on his back and continued to slide down the hill.

My Dad laughed his way down the hill, dug Larry out of the snowbank and we all had a good laugh when he told us his story.

We had even a bigger laugh while having dinner with Larry and his family a few months later. Larry turned out to be my sisters' track coach and we became great friends with him and his beautiful family. And Larry loved to tell the story about our driveway.

Yup, our driveway is one of a kind. My Dad recently had it re-paved. It was getting a little bumpy and rough. I'm sure everyone in our family has a story about that driveway.

You'd be so lucky to be invited to drive up that driveway.