Grader 101

Wintertime and the snow is falling, hard. It’s been snowing hard since four o’clock, yesterday. Dad’s been up and down the driveway several times with the grader making sure we can all get in and out. It’s slowed down now. Thank goodness.

It’s Saturday, so I’m outside shoveling the snow from the front door to the cars. After my morning TV ritual, of course. Snow is getting deep, above my knees at this point. Dad pulls up to the front of the house and parks the grader. He steps down from the cab and saunters my way. “Looking good Andee. Come inside and warm up for a bit. Then we’re going on the upper road to clear out the grange parking lot.”

I gladly follow him inside to warm up for a spell. Boots come off and are set by the wood stove. Dad pours his coffee that’s been sitting on the hot plate for hours and looks more like a thin stew than coffee. Gross. I make myself a cup of hot cocoa and add a few marshmallows. I let the aroma and steam warm me to the core.

“You ready to drive the grader?”

My head snaps up from my chocolate induced bliss, “Um, nooooo,” I say as cocoa dribbles out of my mouth. Panic starts to set in. I can’t tell if he’s serious or just joking. I’m instantly scared out of my mind. That thing is big. Huge even.

“Bout time you learned,” he says with that crooked grin of his winding up at the left corner of his mouth.

Oh no. He is serious.

“Finish up that hot chocolate and get your boots back on.”

I do as I’m told cause there ain’t no use arguing.

A short ten minutes later, after finishing our drinks and a quick run to the bathroom, we head out the door and to the grader. I can’t even get up on the first rung without some assistance from dad. And by assistance I mean a good shove on my backside to launch me into the cab.

Dad teaches me what all the gadgets and gizmos are for, and let me tell you, there’s a lot of them. Looks like an octopus exploded in here.

This monster has arms everywhere. He starts her up and puts it in reverse, then backs down the lane just ‘bout 30 feet, “This gear is to turn the wheels on their sides for when you are backing around a corner. This machine is really long. It can’t turn tight corners without this neat little trick. Watch the front wheels when I pull it to the right. See em turn?”

“I see it. That’s really cool.”

“Yes, it is.”

He swings the machine into the turnaround with ease. Like he’s been doing it his whole life, which he has. “Your turn squirt,” he says and stands up so I can scooch over into the driver’s area. He asks me what all the levers are for and I get most of them right.

“First thing you gotta do is turn your wheels the other direction,” he points to the correct lever for me.

I put my hand on the lever and push.

“Nope, other direction,” dad corrects my mistake.

Well of course I went the wrong direction. I push it the other way until the tires are straight up and down.

“Keep going so they’re the other direction to get us around this corner.”

“Okay dad.” I push in little spurts hoping I get it just right. It feels awkward and clunky, but I push it until they’re all the way flipped to the other side.

“Now ease out real slow. That’s good. Now turn your steering wheel only a little bit. Let the wheels do their job.”

It’s a super wide turn around so I can’t mess it up, too much.

“Great, now as we’re going through the turn, bring the wheels back up. That’s it. You’re doing great.”

“This is so much fun.”

Dad just smiles; he knows.

We’re cruisin’ down the quarter mile of our lane and it’s not long until we’re at the road. It’s a tighter corner with a deep ditch on the left. My nerves kick up a notch. As I approach the turn I start maneuvering the wheels in place. Not so clunky. Much smoother.

“Not so much this time. They don’t need to be turned all the way. Get a feel for it. There you go. Now bring them back up as we round the corner.”

Shoot! That is a cinch. I got this. We ramble up the road and the killer speed of 20 miles an hour. It’s a straight shot to Watson Cutoff which will take us to Upper Peoh Point Road. We pass McDonald road and see grandma’s red station wagon.

“Stop for a minute. I wanna see what grandma’s up to.”

They chat for a minute. Grandma waves to me and gives me a big smile.

Dad climbs back up in the cab and asks me to back up so grandma can go in front of us. I do it without any mistakes. She toots her horn and waves again.

We go under the overpass and Watson Cutoff is immediately to our left. I wait for the car ahead to pass before easing into the corner.

“This is a trickier corner hon ‘cause the road curves back. Go ahead and angle the tires all the way.”

I do as he says and slowly take the corner. Mid turn I start to square up the tires without dad even having to remind me.

“Great job. You’re a natural at this.”

Several twists and turns later we’re at the T for the upper road. The Grange Hall is to our right but there are deep ditches on both sides of the road.

“I don’t think I can do this one dad.”

“Course you can. How much do you need to angle your tires?”

“Not all the way cause the road only angles a little bit.”

“That’s right. When we’re turning right, it’s not so much. Turning left on the way home, we’ll have to angle more.”

I press the lever so the tires are only about half way.

“Better go a bit more.”

“Got it.”

“Take er slow.”

I’m inching ahead at a snail's pace but my heart is beating a million miles an hour. I’m scared spitless but I know dad won’t let me quit. I’m even more anxious when I see there’s people waiting for me to make the turn and get the heck out of their way.

“Don’t worry about that car. He can just sit there and wait. We’re bigger than he is. He won’t mess with us.”

I crack a grin cause I know dad loves it when he can make his neighbors wait. Specially certain ones he doesn’t get along with so good.

As I round the corner, I see the car backing up to give me “plenty” of room. In what seems like hours for me to make that dang turn, I finally get us straightened out and on our side of the road. We wave as the car passes by and he gives us a slight nod in return. The grange is almost immediately to our left.

“I’m gonna put the blade down now so we can start clearing the lot. You concentrate on the turn.”

Oh thank goodness. I don’t know how I could have done the turn, and the steering, and the blade.

“These levers are for the blade. One to drop it and raise it. The others do the turning of it depending on which direction you're plowing.”

I make the turn into the lot while dad maneuvers the blade for me. Once we’re inside the lot though he explains all the tricks of clearing out the snow. Now I’m concentrating on not only turning and backing, but being aware of where I’m putting the snow and which direction the blade needs to be. It’s stressful to begin with, but after ten or so swipes, I’m getting the hang of it. Dad does a couple of the trickier swipes closer to the building. Takes us about an hour to clear out the entire lot for tonight’s business meeting.

“Let’s head home. I’m powerful hungry.”

“Me too,” I chime in. Hadn’t thought about food at all until just now, but my stomach’s letting me know it needs sustenance.

I take us out of the parking lot with no problem, but when I head to Watson Cutoff to take us back down to Lower Peoh a police car pulls up. Are you kidding me!

Just then more cars pull up in front of me and behind me. My hands start shaking and I can hardly breathe. Oh my gosh, I’m gonna knock that cop car clean into the ditch.

“You do it dad! I can’t do it with all these cars and the policeman there.”

“Yes you can honey. Remember your procedures. These cars can just wait for us.”

“I can’t think of what to do first.”

“Turn your wheels, all the way this time to clear the police car.”

Oh, yeah. Duh. The policeman sees me at the controls and backs way, way up. Not far enough for my comfort, but at least I have a little more room.

“That’s right, you’ve got your machine ready for the turn. Now ease into it. You’re doing great honey. Brings the wheels up just a little as we turn.”

“I’m doing it,” much to my surprise. But not at all to Dad’s. He continues to talk me through the turn until we’re well through it. When I straighten the grader out on the road, the police car moves forward again. He gives me a thumbs up and a wave.

I turn to dad and give him my biggest grin. He is smiling even bigger.

“This is so much fun!”

“It sure is,” Daddy says. “It sure as hell is!”