Neighborly Advice

Well yesterday was garbage day. So, unlike you suburbanites who simply have to roll your garbage can out to the curb, I actually have to lug it from the basement, where I hide it from the bears, out to the truck and drive it five miles up the road to 'the dump'. When that was done, I headed up to UPS (also known as the gas station 'mart') in Rockwood to see if my package that I ordered ten days ago had been delivered. No such luck ... guess I'll have to wait another week and try again.

Then Caroline and I headed down to Greenville with the neighbors to attend the end of season soccer banquet, where one would think, given that the banquet was held at 6pm and given the name of the event ... banquet ... that we might actually get dinner. No such luck ...

But the real revelation came to me on the ride home thanks to my ever-so-helpful neighbor George ...

Apparently I have misunderstood the process of the winter road closing and it is a bit more complicated than I had anticipated. The key to surviving the winter here is getting the truck out before you no longer can; it really has nothing to do with anyone actually locking the gate and closing the road. So, the process as I now understand it is that you first listen to the weather station to decide if there is a storm predicted. If bad weather is forecasted, you must then watch for the snow (sometimes through the night) and if it looks like there will be a foot of snow or more, you drive out to the parking lot, park the truck and walk back in ... a mile and a half..

Recapping the important part of the converation ...

"So George you do that during the day right?"

"Well, not always. I have had to walk in a couple of times in the middle of the night."

"By yourself? In the middle of the night?"

"Well yeah."

Thank goodness it was dark so that he couldn't see the look on my face although I am sure he could tell by the tone of my voice that I really didn't know what I was doing here. And, it gets better ...

If I guessed wrong on the snow, then I have to walk back out ... a mile and a half ... and retrieve the truck until the next storm is predicted. Looks like I will be getting a bit of exercise eventhough I am no longer hiking up and down Mevedgrad with my coffee clotch.

Better yet, if the snow arrives late in the year, not only do I trek in and out after my truck several times, I also have the pleasure of dealing with the ice that forms on the narrow, hilly, dirt road. George, after he was done discussing his strategy for timing his exit just right, went on to elaborate on his adventures sliding up and down the hills on the ever-present ice. Perhaps I will have to 'spring' for those studded snow tires after all when I head out of the woods on Saturday to the bustling metropolis of Bangor. And, on Sunday I am contemplating giving Garrick his first driving lesson, after all he doesn't seem to be afraid of the dark!