By Dan Bourgeois
Pictured is a rail plough photo from the 1940s. This plough got stuck near Carmel Line.
It seems we’ve had a lot of snowy and stormy days the last couple of winters, with bus cancellations and school closures disrupting family schedules.
What was winter like around here in the past? Well, there was more snow. Looking through historic data from the Peterborough weather station, average annual snowfall in the 1930s was 180 cm (6ft), decreasing to 140 cm (4 ½ft) in the 1970s and 110 cm (3½ ft) in the early 2000s. The average temperature has risen during this time period as well.
It was not until the 1940s that snow ploughs came into use on the township roads and even then, they only went by two or three times a winter. Prior to that, local travel was on foot, sometimes with snow-shoes; or by horse and sleigh, which would be needed to get into Millbrook, Cavanville or Mount Pleasant for supplies. When the automobile arrived on the scene, these were put into storage until spring. Any travel to larger communities such as Peterborough or Port Hope and beyond would require a trip on the railway.
Occasionally train travel was interrupted by huge snow-drifts across the tracks. This was especially true along a stretch of the railway to Port Hope, near where it crosses the Carmel Line west of County Road 10. The track ran through a cutting which had been dugout to decrease the grade of the track through that stretch. Snow could pile up to 20 ft (6 meters) deep over the track in this area. Even the huge plough coupled to the front of the steam engine would sometimes get stuck trying to clear the snow. Rail crews from Port Hope and Millbrook would then have to shovel out the plough and clear the track to get the rail line open again.
Snow and ice covered roads were not necessarily a bad thing. The late Larry Lamb, a respected chronicler of local history, recalled that his father told him that “when he was a child they would get a ride on a farmer’s sleigh and pull their bob sled (sort of like a toboggan on runners; the prehistoric version of today’s racing bobsleds) to the top of the hill west of the village (on what is now County Road 21,or King St through the village. The hill he refers to is west of what is now Jail Hill, the best local toboggan hill, and east of the current Lowery’s farm). The roads in those days(1920s and 30s) were unsanded and covered in snow and ice. They would head east downhill towards Millbrook and hope there were no trains coming into town. They would end upgoing through the village business section finally stopping halfway up the hill on the eastside of Millbrook”.
Rural single room elementary grade schoolhouses were the norm in many areas, including Cavan, well into the 1960s. Most families living along the concession roads were within a mile or at most two miles of the nearest school. Just about all the kids would walk to school and in winter snowshoes or skis could be put to use. However, storms and heavy snowfalls could make travel, especially for small children, treacherous. It was not uncommon for students to be “storm-stayed” at home for days until trails along the concession roads had been packed down by horse drawn sleighs or adults walking along the roadways.
Attending high school in Millbrook was a challenge for those who lived on the concession roads. Many would board with family or friends in Millbrook during the school week in winter time. A few would brave the elements to continue their education while still living on the farm.
Bertha Elliott (Lang) grew up on a farm on the Larmer Line west of County Road 10.She wrote in a booklet commemorating the centenary of the Millbrook Continuation School (High School) that in1924 “When I went to the Mill-brook Continuation School to continue my education, my parents decided I would drive the horse and buggy in the spring and fall and the horse and cutter (a small sleigh pulled by one horse) in winter rather than board in Millbrook… The first year I drove, my father gave me a young horse to drive much against my mother’s wishes. I managed quite well driving her until the first school day after our Christmas holidays. I was on my way home taking the short route across the fields. We were on a level stretch of good road when suddenly, without any apparent reason, she bolted and was away with the cutter and I in tow. I couldn’t gain control of her. We literally “flew” across a deep pitch hole and onto the railroad gate. When she saw she couldn’t get through the gate, as it was closed, she turned sharply to the right and kept going. Due to the deep snow in the field and the cutter shafts digging into her side she couldn’t turn fast enough to upset me. She swung around to the gate, stopped, prancing and snorting. I was able to get out carefully and hold her by the head. I talked to her and held her until a sleigh, coming quite a distance behind, caught up to me. The driver helped me through the gates and across the tracks, then went on ahead. My arms were so tired when I arrived home as I had to hold the reins very tightly as she tried to get away again. The outcome of this incident was I was given another horse to drive.”
So, maybe Grandpa’s stories about trudging through snow up past his knees to school as a kid could be true. However, the bit about it being five miles uphill against the wind both ways was probably an exaggeration.