It's not too often I get to meet Formostians—Foremostats? Formostites?--anymore, even though I no longer live there. However, between a “chance” encounter on the lonely 879 the other day, I was greeted by a number of people that I have seen or heard of, but never actually met in my many years of living in that community.
The reason? Through a relative of mine, Mother Nature.
She sought fit to share a little icy rain in the wee hours of the morning, a couple of weeks ago, and I guess I saw fit to not see it, feel it, or sense it, until my van went flip, flop, and fly. Still working with that music metaphor, there was a lot of twisting and shouting: my van twisted as I I shouted.
Over the course of three hours, I met a teacher here, a mother there, and nice family from east on the 501. There were others, but I never got their names, just a friendly wave. Here's a public thanks to you (and you know who you are) for taking the time to stop and see if I was okay.
Yes, I should have taken you up on your offer to take me into Foremost, and yes, I am sure I could have had the tow truck driver pick me up at the school. Had I known that from spinning out to setting out, it would take three hours, I would have grabbed the first four-by-four that slid by and headed north.
In the meantime, I froze to death (merely an expression), while I had to stand outside my van to make the phone calls. That would be phoning in the rain, but no singin' in the rain. No cell service, apparently, on the slope down to the edge of the field, even though I said please, Mrs. Operator.
I had other options, beyond taking up the above offers. For one, I could see the lights of Starbrite from the scene of the crime, but that would have been a hard day's night. I know John and Hardy and Jason and others there, so that might have worked. Further west of there, Stu and Corrine Collin, along with Luke and Avery, would have been a natural choice, but I didn't want to walk that line.
However, in both cases, it would have been nothing short of foolhardy to start out in the cold to walk that far. It wasn't even that cold, at that, so it must have been the wind chill factor. At least if I stayed by the van, I would be able to retreat to it to warm up. Walking a mile or two or more, with no place to warm up on the way over, would be careless at best, deadly at worst.
Some positives? Again, I was impressed and gratified at the number of people who made the effort to stop and see if I was okay. I do that a lot myself, so it was good to be on the receiving end. Also, I missed a day of teaching. That's not a really good reason, especially if the administration is reading this, but suffice to say, I was able to go home and recuperate (read = hot bath, hot coffee, warm house, warm bed), rather than shiver my way through a lesson on prepositions.
Lastly, it shows me just how vulnerable I am. On a much, much bigger scale, the recent Hurricane Sandy debacle has done the same. Sometimes, we think that with the right tires, the right timing, and the right technique, we're good to go—almost to the point of feeling invincible.
However, as meaningful as the experience of spinning off the Foremost Highway was, I believe I have learned my lesson, or maybe even lessons. They are as follows:
1. Always check the weather report for the route you are taking; assume the worst and hope for the best;
2. Always make sure your loved ones know what route you're taking; it could be a matter of life and death, though rarely;
3. Always make sure you have a fully-charged phone, a full tank of gas, and some extra clothes;
these extras will last through the night, if necessary;
4. Always drive with your four-wheel system on (if you have one); if you don't, please don't drive as if you do.
Needless to say, once I started driving, I was glad to be on the road again.
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