Delving into the drifts: Snow removal throughout history
Just in Time local history series

It is an early winter morning when a low rumbling noise in the distance wakens early risers from their slumber. Their eyelids flutter open to see a flashing blue light reflected in their window as the rumble crescendos into a clatter. An enormous plow pushes its way through the drifts of snow and ice that have accumulated overnight. Silence descends upon the sparkling street once more. In a few hours’ time, the repetitive thud of shovels (not to mention the cacophony of gas-powered snowblowers) will echo across town as neighbours dig themselves out of this, winter’s fury.

Ah, snow removal in Kawartha Lakes – a ritual that plays out across the municipality each year. Thanks to the efficiency with which our snowplow operators carry out their unenviable tasks, it is easy to take this vital work for granted. A glance back in time, however, reveals many a story of snowstorms that made the subsequent cleanup a hair-raising ordeal for all and sundry.
The railways were invariably the hardest hit when the snow fell on what is now Kawartha Lakes. What was undoubtedly an inconvenience for travellers was par for the course in the minds of local railroaders, who could rhyme off exciting tales of snow removal. Felix Gassien, for decades a conductor on the Grand Trunk Railway, recalled in 1956 that the early wooden plows pushed by steam locomotives would often be brought to a standstill by impenetrable drifts of snow. “For four days we were stalled one and a half miles west of Lindsay at ‘Hutton’s Grove,’” Gassien recalled of one trip. “The snowbanks were 10 feet high. We had to be shovelled out by the section men.”
Technology in the form of more powerful locomotives and heavy steel snowplows would eventually make the clearing of railway tracks a less-onerous task – but digging one’s way out of a snow-covered road or laneway remained a headache.
Passable roads gradually opened up across the municipality, and by the 1930s plow trucks were becoming a common enough sight on the highways connecting towns and villages. Early on, the task of plowing was normally shared between a government-owned plow and plows operated by individuals who were contracted by the municipal government. On January 3, 1932, a government plow cleared the highway between Lindsay and Toronto because tenders for local plow operators had only just been let; a local plow would finish the job. January 16, 1936, saw a snow plow push its way into Norland for the first time that winter, opening up Highway 35 North to traffic. Motorized snow removal equipment might have expedited the process, but teams of horses and good old-fashioned elbow grease were still used to give access along the roads between Kinmount and Norland.

By 1963, the county’s snow removal fleet consisted of three road graders equipped with plows, and four snow plow trucks – three in regular use and one called out on an as-required basis. These kept almost 375 km of roads clear across the county.
Within Lindsay, the question of removing snow from sidewalks became a question of public discussion over the winter of 1964. A pointed editorial in the Post on Jan. 6 of that year complained that Lindsay was lagging behind Oakwood – a considerably smaller community – which had acquired a specialized sidewalk plow that blew snow out of the way, rather than simply pushing it back into the path of the street snow plow. (Whether it was a street plow or a sidewalk plow, some irate local residents made it clear to Mayor Joseph Holtom the year previous that they didn’t appreciate being roused from their sleep at 3 a.m. in the morning by snow-removal equipment making rounds throughout their neighbourhoods.)
In due time, Lindsay would acquire additional snow removal machinery – but independent contractors were still called out to sand and salt the roads, as the county-owned equipment was limited to plowing the roads. This remained the situation after 1990, when Norm MacKinnon was hired by the County of Victoria as an engineer responsible for road maintenance. “We waited for four inches of snow to accumulate before we sent the plows out,” MacKinnon remembers. The county plows did the road first, followed by a private contractor with salting equipment mounted on the back of a truck.
Until the late 1980s, snow plows were dispatched with two-person crews – a driver and a “wingman.” The latter sat next to the driver and was responsible for adjusting the “wing,” or secondary plow, as the truck made its way along the often-narrow roads. When MacKinnon worked for the Ministry of Transportation, wingmen were gradually being phased out, and among the first tasks he had upon being hired was to make the necessary adjustments to plow trucks so the operator could oversee the wing plow sans the need for a second person in the cab. Sometimes, MacKinnon recalls, drivers and wingmen of differing personalities could make operations a challenge and lead to delays.
Today’s snow removal machinery making its way down our roads in the wee small hours of wintry mornings might be more sophisticated and efficient, but the conditions faced by operators scarcely differ from those their predecessors faced more than three quarters of a century ago.