Chapter 51: Beware - Possible Slippery Sections

Now you shouldn’t assume that we hadn’t spent much time racing Car 54 during the summer of 1969, because we did race and we did very well. Actually we only missed six races and three of those races were rained out. Two other races happened while I was busy with fall haying, and since the hay crop happened to be the ranch’s major source of income at that time, I think I can be excused for those absences. The only other race I missed wasn’t even my fault, I made it to the race track, but the car didn’t. That day Tom, George and I watched the races from the pits and it was the one and only time we pulled out those signs we’d made long before - the ones that said “Car 54, where are you?”

Jerry Dolens had been towing the trailer with the car to Pine Lake, but the trailer was T-boned at an intersection by a pickup truck whose driver ignored a stop sign. The pickup truck which hit the trailer was virtually demolished, but the seventeen year old girl who was driving the pickup only suffered a broken leg and a minor concussion. Jerry, the tow truck, the trailer and Car 54 were hardly damaged at all. Jerry got a couple of bruises, the trailer had a bent side section and car 54 had a couple of dents. The RCMP, an ambulance and another tow truck had to be called to separate the vehicles because the pickup had hit the trailer so hard it had pushed everything into the ditch on the far side of the highway. Jerry and Car 54 finally did make it to the track that day, just as the last race was being run.

There were other times that summer when it was questionable whether we could have Car 54 repaired soon enough to be at the races or not, but we managed. You see after Gary Wagner found that I was willing to mix it up with him during the races, he developed a habit of trying to make life ‘interesting’ for me, usually just when I was passing him. Most of the time I was able to steer clear of his ambushes, but he and I ‘accidentally’ tangled several times and we got involved in really heavy collisions twice that summer. In each case Car 54 got badly damaged.

One time we had exited three-four corner, just entering the front straight and I was passing his car on the outside when he decided to slow me down. Gary managed to squeeze my ride between his car and the concrete wall that ran in front of the stands, but I saw it coming. When I bounced of the wall, I countered his move by braking hard, then steered away from the wall, expecting to swing behind him. Unfortunately I’d counted on being slowed more than I was and I was already accelerating when we hit, so my left front fender contacted his car just behind his right rear tire. That contact spun his car and he suddenly found himself crosswise of the track and in front of Car 54 with his front end pointing toward the inner wall and all the spectators. Unfortunately, the contact between our cars jarred my foot off the brake peddle and I accidentaly hit the accelerator instead. By the time I corrected my mistake and got stopped, his car was on its lid with all four wheels in the air, its nose now facing the stands and my front bumper sitting just outside his window. He didn’t believe me when I explained how it happened and insisted it wasn’t intentional.

During the following week, we managed to beat out the panels on all four doors of Car 54 and mounted replacement front fenders, grill and hood. Mechanically, we had to roughly straighten the frame, redo the steering, then replace the engine and the radiator. The cast iron block of the engine had shattered when the water pump shaft was driven back into number one cylinder. Then we had to haul the car into town to have it repainted, but we were back on the track with a good-looking car the next weekend. Unfortunately, Gary’s car didn’t make it out to the races that week, but he was there as a spectator and he gave me a rough time after the races, accusing me of being a ‘dirtier’ driver than he was.

Tom was with me though, and he just shook his head. “Nope, Gary, you’ve got that wrong, Chris believes in the golden rule. You know the ‘Do onto others’ bit? But the thing is, Chris is generous to a fault, so he always makes sure he does a little extra for good measure. I saw what happened out there and I know how Chris’ mind works. He was trying to brake hard, get behind you and then return the favour and bump you into the wall, but you hit the brakes too hard, so he hit your rear fender instead of passing behind you.”

Gary looked at Tom and frowned, then shook his head. “And here I thought it was George that was full of bullshit.”

However on Labour Day weekend, which happened to be the last race we planned to run Car 54 that year, Gary was back, but over the week his attitude had deteriorated and he was fuming. Clarence tried to calm him down and I even tried to talk to him, but he ignored both of us, other than to tell us that he wasn’t angry with either of us. So once the race got started and Gary managed to pass me, I thought I’d just let him go and follow in his dust. We were about ten laps into the main when things went hairy. I was probably about forty or fifty feet behind Gary and we were rounding three-four corner, just coming up on the straightaway before the stands once more. We were passing on the outside of a slower car at that point and I thought I saw Gary’s car give a tiny little sideways twitch, then he was on the straightaway and accelerating hard. He was leaving me behind, so I hit the gas to try to stay with him, but about half a second later all hell broke loose.

Suddenly the rear end of Gary’s car was lifting up in the air and his car did its best to stop dead in its tracks. I snapped my foot off the gas and hit the brakes as hard as I could, but that didn’t do one bit of good. Nose down and in an uncontrollable four wheel slide, Car 54 was headed right underneath Gary’s car, but as it did, I could see what had happened. Somehow his drive shaft had broken free at the forward end, dropped down and dug into the dirt track. The rear end of his car had tried to pole-vault, using that solid section of steel tubing as the pole. I had no time to think or do anything – all I could do was hang on. I was almost underneath that dang car when the guy following the one that we’d been passing hit my right rear fender and spun me. I saw Gary’s left rear wheel still spinning above my hood as the nose of Car 54 went under his rear wheels, then hit that drive shaft, kicking it loose. At the same time the clout on the outside rear of the car spun me away toward the inside edge of the track. Suddenly my car was spinning sideways, but moving down the track at the same time. In fact, I felt the left wheels dig in, and the right wheels lift, almost as if the car was going to roll onto the driver’s side, but somehow it stayed right side up and spun further. Then I was skidding backwards, but facing Clarence, who had tried to miss the accident on the inside of the track. Somehow I had the presence of mind to keep the clutch pressed down and my foot off the brakes. I wasn’t fast enough though, because Clarence’s car still struck mine, nose to nose. Our cars collided, head on, and I got shunted down the track like a billiard ball, going backward at multi-miles an hour. As soon as I saw that Clarence was slowing to a stop, I had enough presence of mind to slam on the brakes, skidding to a halt.

I was facing back up the track toward three-four corner, staring at the biggest mess I’ve ever seen on a racetrack. The whole track was blocked completely from one side to the other. The car that hit my rear end had also struck the rear end of Gary’s car. That blow had kicked Gary’s car up and around until it ended up sitting, tail end high, with one rear wheel on the roof of Clarence’s car and the other wheel on his trunk lid. Meanwhile Gary’s front end was tight against the car that he’d been passing, jamming it tight against the concrete wall. As well, two more cars hadn’t been able to stop in time, so they piled into the resultant wreck. One of them was sitting against the outside wall and against the car that had hit me, then Gary. Meanwhile the other car had hit Clarence from the rear and had spun crosswise, completely blocking the inner edge of the track.

I’d barely gotten stopped, when I saw smoke coming from the front end of Gary’s car and realized it might be on fire. It felt as if it took forever to grab my fire extinguisher, get out my window, then run to the wreck, yet somehow I was the first one there. The hood was sprung, so I grabbed the edge, lifted it up and held it with one hand as I triggered the fire extinguisher with the other, pointing it at the source of the smoke.

I suppose I emptied the fire extinguisher, but I don’t remember for sure. Things were simply too hectic right then to recall details. The next thing I do remember is seeing that there were people all over the wreckage and feeling myself being led away. It was Tom who led me back to Car 54 and I heard the engine still running. I hadn’t even paused long enough to shut it off before I baled out to help. At least I’d been thinking clearly enough to take it out of gear.

“After all that, the damn thing still runs,” Tom sounded astonished. “In fact, it even looks like it could still race.”

“Not with me driving, at least not today!” I said as unemotionally as I could, then reached in through the window to shut off the engine.

I suppose that wreck was the reason I lost my drive and ambition to try as hard to win stock car races. Somehow the vision of Gary’s bumper coming right at me, then lifting above eye level stayed with me for years. Between that and the imprint of his tire tread on the hood of my car, along with a black tire scuff on the roof edge just above the steering wheel, made me a lot more cautious as a driver. On top of that, Car 54 had been heavily damaged and since it was the last race we planned to be in that year we didn’t hurry to get around to repairing it either.

It was a shame in a way, because Tom had only gotten to use his new pickup truck at a couple of races, but then I don’t suppose he really minded all that much. You see Frank had picked up a four year old truck at auction and had turned his mechanics and body men loose, so when Tom got it, it looked brand new. In the back was a nice new full-width tool box, which was all Frank would let me pay for, saying that the truck was his gift to Tom. I didn’t bother to argue with him because I knew I’d lose, instead I contacted the local ‘Snap On’ tool guy and we filled the tool box with ‘basic essential’ tools for any farm mechanic. The look on Tom’s face when he saw the truck and then again when he opened the tool box was priceless.

Of course the look on George’s face, when I handed him the papers and pedigrees for the Appaloosa mare and colt, then led him to the corral to see his gift was just as worthy of mention. I think in George’s case his look was pure mortification though, with a bit of terror blended in for good measure. Then Beth took the papers from his hand, glanced at them, and virtually shrieked as she began to bounce up and down like a ten year old kid on a trampoline. I think George thought she had gone a bit ‘round the bend, ‘ but since he was holding the lead to the mare’s halter and she wasn’t reacting to Beth’s exhibit, he looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Calm, isn’t it,” he said quietly.

“Not it, George, it’s she and she happens to be the calmest, easiest riding mare I’ve ever seen, so if you can sit in a rocking chair, you can ride that horse,” I grinned. “The colt is the reason Beth is so happy though. Both his sire and dam have very good pedigrees, show winner types. I bought the mare for you, because she was a great horse and a real easy ride, but a bit too old for buyers to show much interest. I knew she had been bred to a great stud though and although she happened to drop her foal before I picked her up, that foal is going to be a crackerjack. All you have to do is make sure that foal grows up healthy and he’ll be a top ranking stud horse in about three years, one of the best around.”

“Hmm, I see,” he murmured and I could see him calculating, then he looked at me and grinned. “Beth is gonna want to raise the colt, then use him as a stud for her mares, right?”

“Yep, from the way she reacted to his pedigree I’d bet on it.”

“Thanks, I guess I need to learn how to raise a horse and read a pedigree,” he chuckled and winked at me. “I wouldn’t want to have Beth breed him to a dud. I mean it’s my reputation as an owner of a top quality stud that’s at stake here.”

I just laughed, winked and nodded.

Actually those two gifts were just two more incidents of a great year for me and being something of a pessimist, I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but life just carried on getting better and better. In fact the whole year had gone so smoothly that I mentioned my pessimistic fears to Mom and had her laugh at me, then she got serious and said something that helped me a lot in the long run.

“Chris, life isn’t vindictive, so you’ll have some good years, some that are mediocre and some that are horrible, but in the long run all you can do is enjoy the good times when they happen and handle the rotten times to the best of your ability,” she smiled at me. “I expect that the way you plan things out ahead of time and the way you treat others will make your life a lot easier than most. In all honesty, you treat people fairly and you think ahead, but that’s all you can do. Eventually you’re going to have some form of tragedy fall in your life, but don’t go looking for it, and remember that you’ve always got friends and family to lean on when it does.”

Somehow her words really sank in and in a way they made life a lot easier because what she’d said made a lot of sense. Whenever shit happened I’d recall the words ‘Life isn’t vindictive’ and I’d carry on and do what I could to solve the immediate problem as well as improve my life and the lives of others. However I suppose I’ll always be something of a pessimist, so I’m always thinking ‘what if something happens’ and planning what to do in case a problem crops up. That fall I really learned to adopt the Boy Scout motto of ‘Be Prepared’ and adopted it as my own even though I’d never been a Boy Scout. Meanwhile life carried on.

By the fall of 1969 Matt and John had both decided they wanted to be farm or ranch workers and perhaps own a farm of their own one day, so John enrolled in the full course at Olds. Matt planned to take the same two accelerated courses that I’d taken the year before, Basic Animal Husbandry and Farm Equipment Maintenance, both of which started after Christmas break. At the same time I was going back to Olds in the fall and taking two more intensive courses, Management of Range Land and Modern Ranching Methods, both of which ended by the winter break. By arranging our schedules so they didn’t conflict, the essential work on the ranch could continue, yet we were all able to improve our educations. On top of that Sandy and I both planned to take a business management course by correspondence after the New Year and if I could, I wanted to sneak in an accounting course as well.

That fall, John and I arranged to room together while we were at Olds and came home as often as we could on the weekends. Early on in the fall I bought the wire, switches, plugins and light fixtures for the new machine shed and workshop as well as the materials to finish the inside walls on the workshop. I laid out my idea of how I wanted the switches, plugins and lights with Bob and George Grant one Sunday and by the next weekend the wiring was finished, all but for final details like switch and plug-in covers. The next weekend I started by insulating the walls and ceiling, but I left Matt with the job of sheathing the walls and ceiling with wallboard, then painting the whole interior with washable white latex paint. The next weekend I installed an oil fired heater to keep the shop warm when I wanted to work there during our long winter months which was when I’d have a lot of time on my hands.

Of course life being what it was, although John and I tried to be home each weekend, there were times when it was impossible. The two courses I was taking were heavy on theory, but light on practical application, so I was pounding the books pretty hard, so there were a few weekends I stayed in Olds to study. At the same time John was working hard, but he’d also met a young woman who was taking some of the same courses and they were dancing around each other in some semblance of involvement. Both of them were doing a lot of studying, but somehow their romance slopped over into the weekends and a few times I drove home alone. There were two other times when the weather made it impossible for me to get home, but even when I couldn’t make it back to the ranch the phones still worked, so I was able to get frequent updates.

Naturally I was particularly interested in Sandy’s phone calls about the snowfalls and blizzards and what effect she’d noticed on the new road, only there weren’t any. Oh, there was snow, just not much, and in the months I was studying at Olds, there were only a few minor snowstorms and no real blizzards. Her constant comment was ‘The road is great and the wind seems to be sweeping most of it clean.’ Of course I kept waiting for the time she’d call about a big blizzard, but that call didn’t come before I was finished my two courses and had moved back home.

Christmas that year was a lot different than the year before. We had a Christmas Eve party at the ranch, but Christmas day was mostly split between Uncle Tom and Aunt Alice’s in the morning and Mom and Dad’s in the afternoon. Sandy, Lucille and I made sure that Grampa Bender came out to Mom and Dad’s for an hour or so, but he was feeling a bit rough that day so we took him back to the care home quite soon. The Bender clan wasn’t the only family we knew who were celebrating Christmas though and during the day people all over the area were visiting or phoning each other to pass on their best wishes. For instance as well as visiting my family, Sandy, Lucille and I called on the Grants, the Dolens, the Coulters and the Engels, just to spend a few minutes with each family. To be honest there were so many people involved in our extended group that I doubt if anyone knew where everyone else happened to be at any time. Somehow though, in the midst of all our visits we managed to get home to do the afternoon chores and we did them on time too. In the evening all the younger members of the extended family ended up at Carissa and Jackie’s place for a while. The place was a madhouse and by ten o’clock that evening Sandy and I were all visited out, besides it was snowing and the wind had started to blow, so we headed for the ranch to relax.

“Next year I’m going to phone everyone to wish them Merry Christmas, but I’m going to stay home,” I grumbled as we went inside the house.

“Oh sure, that’ll be the day!” Sandy laughed. “Would you like a coffee or tea? I don’t feel sleepy, just worn out, so I’m going to make myself some coffee.”

I nodded and agreed that a coffee would taste good, then decided I’d start a fire in the fireplace. Once it was going good and the coffee was perked we snuggled together in front of the fire, drinking coffee and talking about the day. Then later we sat there for even longer, popping corn over the dying coals, using an old fashioned corn popper I’d found at an auction. So it was quite late when I happened to glance out the window and noticed two sets of lights coming down the hill, then the dogs barked to let us know we had visitors coming. In a few seconds we found that it was Lucille followed by George and Beth, Jasmine, Jess, Jean and Tom. All of them were a bit irate.

“Okay, who spiked the punch this year?” I asked.

“Nobody,” Beth snapped. “Don’t you keep an eye on the weather? It’s a bloody blizzard up on top.”

“What are you talking about? There isn’t that much wind and it isn’t snowing that much either,” I got up and turned on the yard light.

“The wind’s blowing from the northeast, Chris. For some reason it’s not blowing down here at all and your road isn’t drifting in either, but the municipal road in front of Carissa’s is buried under four foot drifts. Corrinna and Wil are staying with Carissa and Jackie, but Tom and George felt we’d be better off down here if we got stuck for a few days,” Lucille explained. “Oh, by the way, the phones are out, but George got through to his dad on Matt’s CB, so they know what’s going on.”

“I should call Dad on the CB and let him know we made it here and we’re all just fine,” George added.

“Go ahead, George. The CB is in my office now,” I nodded at him and pointed the way.

“Just wait until Dad hears that your road is almost totally clear all the way across the upper plateau while the county road is drifted in and plugged solid,” Beth chortled.

“I’m surprised you didn’t call me on the CB if the weather was so bad up there,” I commented. “What would you have done if you’d gotten stuck in a snow drift on the way here?”

“Well, Lucille and I both have four-wheel drive, so I wasn’t really worried, besides I have a secret weapon in my pickup. Mom and Dad gave me a new snowmobile for Christmas and hid it under my pop-top on the box. If we had gotten stuck, I’d have unloaded that and come to you for help,” Tom grinned and winked at me.

I heard George on the CB, so I joined him to listen in. According to George’s dad, all the east-west roads were drifting in, but so were a lot of the north-south roads, because the wind was coming from an odd direction. That meant most of the county’s snow fences had been put up in the wrong places to stop drifting from the direction the wind was blowing. He didn’t think they’d get around to plowing our county road anytime soon. In return I told him I wasn’t going to try plowing the road clear until the wind eased off, not unless we had an emergency. He said he understood and would pass on the news to everyone who needed to know, then we signed off.

Just in case the wind swung more to the northwest Tom and I strung the snow ropes to the barns and the generator shed, meanwhile George plugged in the block heaters of all the cars and brought in more wood for the fireplace. By the time we got inside, Lucille, Beth and Jasmine had made everyone a snack as well as perking more coffee and heating a pot of cocoa. At the same time Sandy, Jess and Jean had made sure all the beds had clean sheets, blankets and pillows. Then we all gravitated to the living room and relaxed.

Once more there was a blizzard and we were snowed in with a house full of young people. One famous Yogi Berra quotation suits perfectly; “It’s like déjà vu all over again.” The main difference from the previous year was in the personalities who were stuck at the ranch and the fact that everyone was a year older and hopefully, more responsible. During the time they were there, I very carefully did not ask where anyone else slept, but I do know that Sandy and I slept alone, so I thought Lucille was on another of her guilt trips.

Boxing Day morning I found out that her reasons were really something slightly different. That was when Lucille announced that she was going back to school in Calgary for the rest of the winter in order to upgrade her nurse’s training. She was leaving on Sunday, the 4th of January and would be away for six months, but she planned to visit during a one week break she’d have at Easter.

Outside the weather had changed a little overnight. The wind was blowing more or less from a northerly direction and there was slightly more snow falling, but it was nowhere near whiteout conditions. The chores that morning were more of a welcome interruption than an onerous task since it was a chance for Tom and George to look at the recent changes around the ranch as they came along with me.

The barn was warm, so milking went quickly, then feeding the milk cow, the calves and the horses I kept inside was simple. It took a few minutes to clean their stalls and pens, and give them fresh bedding, but with three of us there even that job was quickly done. Both the cattle and horses who ran loose outside were all hiding away in the lean-to shelters I’d built for them, not even bothering to eat from their feeders. So all we did there was give them some fresh bedding and check the automatic waterers to make sure the heaters were working and the water bowls weren’t iced over. When we checked the pigs, they did get up out of their mounds of bedding to gobble feed, but even they were happy to nose their way back under their straw and go back to snoozing. The only animals that were really up and around were the chickens and since I’d had a larger building built for them and had heat lamps installed, they didn’t even realize that there was a storm outside. We really weren’t out of the house for long, but I think it took longer for the three of us to do the job than I’d have taken on my own because we did more talking than working.