Thanksgiving

There were times when we spent Thanksgiving at the Cottage. I would leave OSU and Columbus Ohio, hitch-hike my way to Cleveland Wednesday early afternoon. Grandma Honicky would finish her school day about 3 PM, we would pack the car and drive to a rest stop (Lackawanna) just before Buffalo New York. The problem with the drive at that time, Interstate 90 was not completed. One had to drive through various towns along the way, which had struggled with their State Legislature to block the building of the Interstate as the City officials correctly surmised that the downtown businesses would collapse without the traffic. So we would first drive Route 20 out of Cleveland, then pick up parts of completed Interstate 90 outside of Geneva Ohio, then have to drive Route 5 through Ashtabula Ohio and Erie PA. Just East of Erie's City limits was a deep ravine, made by a river with water flowing North off the Appalachian mountains. This particular Wednesday evening it had been snowing, a truck had jack-knifed its trailer across the road about 1/3 rd of the way down the hill. Only one car at a time could run the opposite shoulder around the trailer's rear brakebar, that steel piece you see hanging down from the rear of the trailer. As the tractor was down in a steep ditch, the attached tailer was canted down at the tractor, but its rear end rose high in the air. The brakebar hung high in the air and any mistake and getting too close, that steel piece would rip open the roof of the car like a can opener. Since the road was slippery already from snow, one had to have enough speed to get momentum to get up the ravine on the other side. With heart in my mouth and pulse racing, I sped down the hill, two wheels in the gravel shoulder and two wheels on the pavement and I passed the menacing wreck reached bottom of the ravine, and sped up on top of the ridge. Mom and I drove silently to the rest stop. We were going to meet the Tyler's, have dinner, exchange passengers and form a two car carivan through Buffalo, cross the Peace Bridge and head along the shores of Lake Ontario via the Queen Elizabeth Way. Near Burlington Ontario, we left the QEW for Route 6 heading North. Between Burlington and Guelph was a town called Puslinch, a solitary gas station, and just beyond the gas station was a narrow bridge, just barely wide enough for two cars. Bill Tyler, Rae, Ralphie and I in the Tyler's Oldsmobile stationwagon had a very scary encounter when a car coming in the opposite direction was crossing the bridge at the same time as we were beginning to cross. The oncoming car's tires hit slush on the road. The spray covered the whole car like a wave in the surf. We came out the other end, the windshield wipers were not able to clear the windows for 3 or 4 seconds, an eternity. After Guelph came Arthur, Mt. Forest, and others. We re-arranged the crew in Owen Sound, downtown Owen Sound since there was no drive around as there is today. Continuing on Route 6, up a steep hill made by the Niagra Escarpment, we took the Shallow Lake cutoff towards Wiarton. The Wiarton Highway Garage you will note is located on top of the hill above Wiarton. Salt trucks strategically are placed to plow and salt the road on the way down since no truck could climb that hill when it was icey. Up the hill we went towards the Mile Inn. At that time there was a sharp high banked left turn. Route 6 heads West for two miles and then there was a high-banked curve to the right. The road became gravel from there on to Tobermory. Just past Wiarton, the Lake effect of snow is apparent and there was lots of snow. Route 6 had been recently plowed and there were 3 foot ridges on either side of the road made of snow. As we passed the Howdenvale Road, we came over the ridge and down into the flat portion of the Peninsula, just before Pike Bay Road. In the middle of the road a rabbit sat staring at us as we came bearing down. We slowed and the rabbit started to run in front of us, weaving from one side to the other. We stopped. the Rabbit stopped. We started again and the rabbit started again. Each time the rabbit ran in front of us. After several stop and goes,I slowly increased my speed waiting for a time when the rabbit weaved clear to the right side of the road. By now the rabbit was a blur as I accelerated past it. We all had an emotional outburst of laughter. As we got to Little Pike Bay Road, it had stopped snowing and the wind had blown the snow off the gravel roads, leaving exposed little rocks. It was 1 AM, the sky was crystal clear, the stars were brilliant. We drove Tyler's Turnpike with white powder snow billowing from either side of the car since in the bush, the wind had not blown the road clear. Before there was a Tori, there was a gate we unlocked (same key now as then) and turned right, headlights catching the snow clouds from our tires. First came the boat house, then the cottage, all shuttered. The porch in its early years was a screened in porch. Bitter cold, frozen breath, flashlight in hand, I stepped from Black Beauty and walked in 6 inch deep snow to steps leading to the porch. I unlocked the padlocked porch door, walked in and unlocked the cottage. "Hello house" I called, walked to the bedroom and turned on the electricity. The smell from the cedar branches we had left on the beds to keep the moths away, permenated the cottage. I gather up the paper and branches and put them into the fireplace and opened the damper. But, before I could start the fire, I had to climb onto the roof, and remove a stone cap covering the fireplace flue. The cap was to keep critters from making a winter's home in the chimney. That done, mom was already moving the groceries into the cottage, I climbed down and proceded to first light the paper in the fireplace, establishing updraft, added the now tinder dry cedar bows, and soon there was a roar and flames shooting up the chimey. I added the dry split birch logs left for just such a purpose. The stone of the fireplace was cold, the fire was hot. I went outside to bring in more stuff, there were sparks shooting out of the chimney, a reminder of the fire hazard of fireplaces. I made a mental note to buy a fireplace metal screen cover such as we have on there now. From our purchases at the Duty Free Store before crossing the Peace Bridge in Buffalo NY, we dipped into out stash of booze, mom had a shot of Canadian Club whiskey, and I had an ice cold beer. We said our "good night's" and we promptly got under the covers and fell fast asleep. The next morning we headed over to the Tyler's, to help with the Thanksgiving meal; Bill was cooking the Turkey.