Every morning in the winter when I get up, I look out the window and ask myself, “How impassible are the roads today?” Are they clotted up with undulating waves of loose, drifting snow; are they treacherous, frozen, deeply rutted obstacle courses; are they, as sometimes occurs, smooth, taught sheets of sheer ice like unto that of a hockey rink? The snow plow may come by, maybe, if you are along the right route. The sanding truck may pass by, eventually, to inspire within you sufficient heart to venture downtown and back. Before you depart you utter a prayer for deliverance, and upon your return, a hymn of Thanksgiving.
Moose Jaw is indeed a great place to live before the snow comes and after it has melted away. In between, our city is reminiscent of a remote, backwater Medieval town in the year, let us say, 1423.
I believe in truth in advertising and thus feel the city’s advertising slogan should be amended to say: “Get a life. Move to Moose Jaw. We don’t plow our roads in the winter”.
An acquaintance living on an acreage outside the city has said to me, “The only time I turn on the 4x4 drive is when I come to town”. That’s the whole story right there.
David Stymeist
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
