“One… two… three… four.”, I count as each drop of vitamin D, squeezed from the little white bottle, lands on my sublingual papilla. It’s snowy and miserable outside in the January permafrost, and it seems like days since I’ve seen the sun.
I just want to stay inside and hibernate. But I will not be overcome by these “Winter Blahs”. So I paw at the coffee machine on the counter until the pot is full, and then pour out a nice hot cup into my travel mug. I bundle up, pull on my toque, lace up my insulated boots, and head out to the garage to start my trusty old truck. I pack a tow rope and a shovel into the back seat because I’ll likely need them.
Today, for the love of driving and irony, I’ll be out in the great white yonder, bombing around snowy backroads and beating these blahs.
I wind my way down to our meeting place at Creemore’s Station on the Green and join a motley crew of jovial winter drivers huddled together in the cold. Coffee and donuts are self-served from boxes on the stage as we meet and greet.
Corey and Tom, organizers of the event, are all smiles. These are two buddies who love weird cars and have a real knack for getting people together for driving experiences. Together, they have participated in numerous esoteric car shows and several rallies of the famed, Targa Newfoundland. Although most of us drivers are strangers to one another, introductions come easily, and everyone friendly. We’re all bonded together by the same shared joke –we are choosing to do this silly thing for the love of driving.
“Google Maps says that you can make it from Creemore to Clarksburg in 44 minutes –we did it in only 4 and a half hours“
Corey welcomes the participants, and explains that we’re about to embark on a drive that he calls, “the worst possible route from Creemore to Clarksburg”. We’ll be using an app called TourBoss, which displays the route and the location of each participant, as well as cool walkie-talkies for communication.
After presenting our insurance slips and drivers licenses to Corey, we head out to the parking lot to survey the vehicles, a delightful motley crew indeed: my slightly dented Tacoma, an old 4000 or maybe 5000 Audi wagon with a 14 year old dog in it, a barely road legal 2002 Honda Civic on all season tires, a legendary Land Cruiser FJ80 complete with solid front axle and a big winch, a diesel V6 Volkswagen Touareg which I immediately covet, a FIAT Spider convertible with winter tires, a 90 hp Mark 4 Volkswagen TDI Jetta with an intentionally ironic ducktail spoiler, a cool Scion coupe, a plucky Toyota Yaris, and a rare automotive porpoise called a FIAT Multipla.
Our ragtag convoy heads eastbound and down to the rural backroads in Mulmur. The guys did a great job scouting the route -these roads are twisty, scenic and properly gnarly. Cresting the very first hill, we hear the buzz of the walkie talkie –The Little Honda Civic that Couldn’t is in the ditch. The convoy pulls over and stops. Hazard lights flash, tow ropes are deployed from the big 4x4s, and soon the battered little Civic is freed, its young driver grinning from ear to ear as he and the little sedan are cheered on at the top of the hill.
The route continues along challenging, twisty, undulating roads through Terra Nova and Horning’s Mills, over to Melanchthon, then up to the Pretty River Valley, and across to Ravenna, stopping more than once to rescue a few overly ambitious front wheel drives stuck in the snow.
Eventually, we make it to the Spy Cider House and Distillery in Clarksburg – it’s time to enjoy some meatball subs and swap stories about getting stuck and unstuck, warning lights on dashboards and dented bumpers.
Sitting inside at Spy’s café, Corey and Tom get to talking about the why of today’s rally: “We like driving, so we planned an event that we thought we be fun and interesting, then we opened it up to our friends on social media… we only advertised it two weeks ago because we want to attract people who don’t plan too far ahead in their lives …people who love driving their real, honest cars in various states of disrepair.”
Back outside under grey skies, our group poses for silly photos with our silly vehicles in the snowy parking lot. We strangers became friends in less than a half a tank of gas, thanks to some backroads, some questionable vehicular choices, and more than one ditch recovery.
Google Maps says that you can make it from Creemore to Clarksburg in 44 minutes –we did it in only 4 and a half hours. Time well spent, gas well burnt. Let it be known that buddies and backroads beat Winter Blahs.
Written by ‘Museum’ Rob Iantorno
