Surviving Winter in Canada

This post was written in late January, right before the birth of our baby boy, Phoenix.  Many of you are probably wishing for more baby updates, but I don’t have time to write!  In the interim I hope you will find this post amusing.

“You can’t consider yourself a world traveler until you’ve experienced a Canadian winter.”

This statement was made by our New Brunswick neighbour, Nicole.  Bruno had been complaining about our plans to spend winter in Canada all summer (these complaints were half-jokes but half expressions of very real fear), and we’d all tried to allay his gripes, to tell him how beautiful and fun winter could be.  But our Mediterranean Frenchman (who has spent the past thirty three winters avoiding the cold) wasn’t persuaded.

Nicole’s comment changed that.  I watched as Bruno sat up straight, focused his eyes, and accepted the challenge.  He would survive winter in Canada, and chalk it up to yet another worldly experience.  (Reading the newest book by his favourite extreme adventurer, Mike Horn, who survived frostbite, -60 degree temperatures, and the North Pole in winter, hasn’t hurt, either!)

While Bruno was in France this fall, my mom rummaged through boxes of winter clothes.  She pieced together a wardrobe for Bruno – from a hat and mittens to sweaters, boots, and even a snowsuit.  My father contributed a few warm shirts and gloves.  Bruno’s brother (who lives in Switzerland) contributed a few pairs of pants.

Bruno might not have felt the part, but at least now he looked it.

I remember the night he returned to Canada, in late November.  I picked him up at midnight in the bitter cold.  He stepped outside the sliding doors of the Moncton International Airport and went straight back inside.  Straight out of that scene from Cool Runnings.  He layered on the winter gear I’d brought him (that he’d initially brushed off), and we raced to the car.

A few days later, we awoke to our first dusting of frost.  He was like a little kid at Christmas, mesmerized by the frost, snapping photos of it, and glancing every few minutes out the window as if he thought it would disappear.

It was the same scene a few days later when we got our first snowfall (all 1cm of it!), a few weeks after that when we got our first actual snow accumulation, and a few weeks after that, the first time the snowplough came to clear our driveway.  I can’t tell you how many photos I have of a light dusting of snow on our Big Blue Bus!

Truly, though, the onset of winter has impacted me in a similar way as it has Bruno.  Though I am Canadian, and have lived through my share of winters, I haven’t experienced one in seven years, and I’ve only lived through two in the past twelve.  The body and spirit do forget.  As I’ve adjusted to the cold, to piling on the layers before going outside (which make me feel so, so big on top of my super pregnant tummy!), and short days, I’ve also found myself re-experiencing snow with fresh, wonder-filled eyes.

And it’s true – winter is beautiful.  In our lovely rental home in Bayfield, Nova Scotia, we have a sweeping view down the hill of the ocean.  We’ve caught so many glances of snow glimmering in the sun or dusted on the trees.  Sometimes the little river just in front of the sea freezes over, and a few times we’ve even had a layer of ice collect along the coastline (where, apparently, in March, we might catch sight of seals!).

Sometimes, when the day is mild or sunny, Bruno and I venture down that hill toward the water.  Bruno has fun following animal tracks in the snow (when I pointed out how snow had the advantage of showing the tracks more easily, he replied that the desert has the same advantage, minus the cold!) and I love the jolt that fresh cool air gives.  It has been strange not spending most of our time outdoors (something that living a nomadic life in a vehicle affords) but those midday walks have been literal breaths of fresh air.

Still, winter has been an adjustment for us.  We’re not used to watching the weather forecast so closely, but we now find it necessary because winter weather can impact our plans.  We learned that lesson on Christmas Day.  We had plans to go for Christmas dinner at my aunt and uncle’s place.  A few days before Christmas, we’d had heavy rain that had then frozen so much so that our Christmas Eve walk was more of a hilarious (and somewhat harrowing) skate.  On Christmas morning, snow began to fall, and our driveway – already an ice rink – accumulated a good few inches over the ice.  When my dad tested the vehicle on the driveway, he didn’t get five feet before getting stuck.  The vehicle lost all traction, and when he tried to bring it back to its original position, it began to slide sideways down the hill!  We weren’t going to be able to go to family Christmas Dinner if we couldn’t get out the driveway!

Here in Bayfield, I’ve found myself organizing my trips to town around good driving conditions.  More than once, I’ve missed an activity because the road conditions simply seemed too precarious.  Just yesterday, our pre-natal class was cancelled because of freezing rain.  When we do go out – even on good days – I watch like a hawk for black ice, and I think I’ve yet to drive the speed limit on a single road!  I must be so annoying to Bruno, always telling him about this type of snow being more slippery, or that exact weather condition being more likely to cause black ice.  He probably had no clue how many different types of snow there were!

Of course, there have been other winter-related adjustments for Bruno, especially.  He’s had to learn how to salt the driveway.  He’s had to shovel the walkway to the car (though at least he’s not responsible for our very long driveway!).  He’s had to keep the house warm, which, because our home is heated primarily by wood, involves a fair amount of daily upkeep for him.  Every morning, he wakes early and heads downstairs to start a fire.  It’s always quite chilly in the morning, because, though we also have oil heaters in each room, we keep those set at only about 16 degrees celcius (61 degrees Farenheit) because the oil tank costs a pretty penny to fill.  Bruno then keeps the fire stoked most of the day, and on really cold ones even lights the second fire in our living room.  Every few days, he hauls in several wheelbarrows of wood from the outdoor wood shed (our indoor wood stash goes down surprisingly fast, I find).  He tries to time these trips with good weather, but he has been stuck at least once doing the job in a brutal wind storm.

The only way our life hasn’t had to change much because of winter is in our pre-storm preparations.  In the countryside, losing power is a real possibility during a storm, but Bruno and I are so used to living without power, for preparing for long stints away from water and food sources, that this particular set of tasks has felt quite normal.  The other week, before a big wind storm arrived, we very naturally filled our bathtub with water and several jugs with drinking water.  We turned the thermostats up to bring the house to a warmer base temperature, and we got all our batteries charged, our flashlights within reach, and meals prepped while we could.  In the end, we didn’t lose power, but we’re told to expect to at least once this winter.  With our luck, it’ll be just after baby arrives… (it was!)  At least we have solar panels, a gas stove, and gas-heated water in the bus!

All in all, winter hasn’t been so bad.  I, for one, haven’t been as affected by the short days as I’d expected to be, probably because I have a lot of atmospheric lighting in our rental house that I turn on in the evenings, creating a cozy and pleasant atmosphere.  The holiday season in December made the month go by so quickly, and it was rather lovely to fill it with festive music, yummy treats, the lights of a Christmas tree, and the traditions shared with family and friends.  And the rest of our time has flown by because Bruno and I have kept ourselves oh-so busy preparing for baby.  Winter has felt, well, not as terrible as we’d expected.

Yesterday, however, the weather flukily turned mild.  It was 18 degrees celcius out – so warm that Bruno and I ate lunch outside on the patio!  As I took advantage of the mild day to go for a long walk, I remembered how much I love not being cold; how I love not being dressed in thick, constricting layers; and how I love being outside.

So I guess we’re merely surviving winter over here in the east coast of Canada.  I definitely wouldn’t go so far as saying we’re loving it.

Postscript: It’s now mid-March.  As I re-read this post, I can’t help but laugh.  The past month has been a complete JOKE as far as winter goes.  Sure, that first week of February we had some harrowing snowstorms (it was right around baby’s due date and we were very grateful Phoenix had already arrived, as we were saved the anxiety of wondering if we would make it to the hospital for the birth!). 

But in the past month, we’ve had almost zero snow and about as many days with positive temperatures as negative ones!  When my parents come over for a visit, they remark at how incredibly warm our house is (and marvel at the fact that Bruno is wearing his usual uniform of shorts and a t-shirt), even though Bruno isn’t feeding the wood stove as often as before, and we’ve only JUST refilled the oil tank (and it wasn’t even totally empty!)

All in all (and I hope I’m not putting my foot in my mouth by saying this), Bruno and I have gotten off really easy this winter.  It hasn’t even been a true Canadian winter, according to the locals.

This begs the question of whether Bruno has met Nicole’s challenge or not.  Can he truly consider himself a true world traveler?  Has he actually experienced a Canadian winter?

The jury is out.  If the next month is anything like this past month, I think Bruno, Phoenix and I are going to have to spend an upcoming winter in the Yukon if we’re ever to call ourselves world travelers.