Worth a walk in the snow

When I was a kid, my dad used to tell stories of trudging miles in the snow to school, barefoot and sharing a coat with his brother, to demonstrate 'just how easy we had it'. I never thought to question just where this snow was alleged to have fallen. Well, I finally have my own snow story.

Wellington was treated to the most amazing snow storm for decades, and we had properties to let. Our open homes had been booked before the snow set in, but we were not deterred. I left the city 45 minutes early for a journey that normally takes 20 minutes. The radio was a constant source of anxiety “Wellingtonians are being urged to leave work early today in order to avoid the worsening conditions” and “Snow storm conditions are expected to close roads, power is out in…” and so on, for the whole long, slow journey. As I wound through the suburbs and approached the street the property was in, the snow had settled onto the road in a thick white blanket, and was even covering the tracks of the cars in front. Finally, I reached the street. One last hill to climb, and I would be there. Oh! No! My car lost traction on the steep incline and started to slip. Back, back, back I went to the bottom of the hill. The snow continued to fall.

I phoned the property occupant – yes, the prospective tenants had turned up, and they loved the place and wanted to talk with me about it. Well, that’s good at least. Now, do I stop where I am, or go up the previous hill I came down so I have at least a hope of getting home tonight? Normally I take the most sensible option, but it wasn’t clear which one that was with the snow still falling. I opted to drive back the way I had come and crested the previous hill before parking. Zipping up rain jacket, pulling on hat and gloves, winding scarf around my neck, I set out for the property on foot, grateful for sensible shoes. I trudged down the hill I now successfully drove twice, and up the steep part to the property itself. I could see why my car failed to get traction, my feet failed as well, and I almost ended up on my bottom. That would have amused the neighbours making a snowman. I noticed several other people had abandoned their vehicles to walk the steep road as well. If these prospective tenants still want it after seeing the issues with access, then great!

At the property I dusted the snow off my coat and met the prospective tenants. They were lovely, thought the property was divine, and had no trouble getting up the drive in their ute. In fact, they offered to drive me back to my vehicle. Fantastic, but I declined, stopping to talk with the occupant before trudging back out into the snow, again. Back on with the hat, gloves and scarf, zip up the jacket, and home safely at last. Within 9 days, our very keen tenants were moving in. Fortunately the snow had melted by then and I didn’t need to repeat my slippery walk.

Here’s to my dad, who told tall tales with real lessons. Some things are worth travelling through snow for. Although mine will never be as good as his - after all, I had shoes and my own coat on - I can tell it to my kids to show them how good they’ve got it. I might even embellish it, just a little.