When I was a kid snow didn’t melt as often as it does now, and the roadside piles could become pretty spectacular. GREAT for snow forts.
Now… well, it was 11 degrees today. In mid January.
The CanaDoper Café (2012 edition of The great, ongoing Canadian current events and politics thread.)
This is my memory of a 1960s childhood in Toronto. Great, huge berms pushed to the sidewalk by the plows, and it stayed there until March, or occasionally, April. (Unless it was removed, as it sometimes was.) At any rate, the bigger the berms were, the more we had “boards” for our road hockey games. 
King of the snow hill was my favourite childhood game in winter. It’s amazing how much time and energy a bunch of kids can spend pushing each other down on a big pile of snow.
We did that too. I have no idea what things are like now, but I recall that our school flooded the playground to create a natural ice rink, that we had great drifts of snow we would play in and on, and we’d always create an ice slide on a local hill that only the craziest of us (ahem) would attempt to go down standing up. There was never a lack of snow or cold weather between late November/early December and March/April. I cannot speak for Ann Arbor, but it sounds totally at odds with my memories of a wintertime Toronto childhood.
Sorry, can’t do that now. All the pedophiles would get you, or someone would put a stop to it to avoid a lawsuit, or some other bs reason to stop kids from having fun.
“I’m suing for five million dollars. Defendants include Jimmy Smith, who pushed my precious snowflake off the top of the snow hill; Sorel Boots, because they gave Jimmy the purchase on the snow hill; and Eddie Bauer, because his clothes didn’t prevent my precious snowflake from getting what amounted to a rug burn.”
No, this is Canada. We don’t do that.
Too true. 
ETA: I mean, that kids can’t just play on a snowhill now, not that they would get kidnapped or hurt.
There is a hill in the park across the street with a freaking ice-run formed on it. Lots of kids sliding down that hill, as well as on the snowy areas.
The problem isn’t that kids don’t slide down hills anymore.
The problem is that you Westerners don’t have hills.
:ducks and runs:
Actually, we do. See Canada Olympic Park in Calgary, for example. But there are numerous other examples, mostly around river valleys.
I’m surprised that nobody here has made an ice slide. We have a three-hundred-foot-deep river valley, and nobody uses it. The University of Lethbridge sits on its edge; when I took classes at the University of Toronto Scarborough (which, similarly, sits on the edge of a river valley), we’d use cafeteria trays as sleds to go barrelling down the hill. Are today’s students so afraid of injury (or so observant of the rules) that they will not try to have a little winter fun?
As a kid, I’ll admit that even if it was slightly downhill, and we could get a good ride, anything counted!
Okay, a real important question.
My wife went down to the local Subway here in Hong Kong and asked for ‘sub sauce’. (don’t ask why in HK you’d want to order from Subway, yeech!) They looked at her like she was smoking crack or something. But I’m used to asking at both Mr. Sub and Subway for sub sauce.
I work with a person whose partner owns Subways in New Zealand and asked her. She hadn’t a clue what I was talking about and suggested ‘Italian’. I’m pretty sure ‘Italian’ and ‘Sub Sauce’ are two different things.
Googled it and found differing opinions as to what it was.
So, what is the straight dope on ‘Sub Sauce’ in Canada? What the heck is it and is it not sold anywhere else?
This is either counter intuitive or someone in Calgary is charging a fortune to the snow removal budget to knit booties or something.
Lets just look at Ottawa and Calgary.
Calgary - 50" of snow 37 million - 0.74 milion/inch
Ottawa - 93" of snow 69 millions - 0.74 million/inch
Same budget per inch and as Grey mentioned, similar populations but Ottawa covers 4x the area that Calgary does. For that budget with a larger surface area Ottawa get pretty good to very good snow removal and Calgary’s well… waiting for a chinook is pretty much the only snow removal I remember.
I’ll check it out when I’m at Subway tomorrow. (No, it’s not very good food but tomorrow morning’s rehearsal and tomorrow afternoon’s rehearsal are an hour apart and 45 minutes away from each other. Given the Hobson’s Choice between Subway and Pizza Pizza, I’ll go for Subway every time.)
They also didn’t have it in Florida when I was last there. Seems to be a canadian thing?
Sub sauce, or house sauce, is essentially Italian dressing or very similar. I seem to recall seeing on the sign in the glass between the customer and employees ‘House Sauce (Italian)’ but I may be misremembering.
I remember playing king of the castle. We had a HUGE pile of snow out front of our townhouse on the open grass area (grass in summer of course) I can’t recall the last time I saw one like that that was situated so kids could play (as in, not in the middle of a mall parking lot).
There was a terrific toboggan hill in Milton, Ontario (between Toronto and Hamilton on an escarpment beside a ski hill at Kelso).
One Christmas, my parents were hosting half a dozen Indonesian engineers for Christmas. These folks had never seen snow before (let alone experienced Christmas). They told my father that they would like to do two things: shop for bras for their wives, and go tobogganing. My father delegated the shopping expedition to my mother, and the tobogganing to me.
The way my mother later described the bra shopping expedition made it sound like a Peter Sellers’ movie, for the engineers had no idea what-so-ever as to what their wives’ bra sizes were. They solved the problem by pointing at various women in the dress store and on the sidewalk who looked similar in size to their wives, and then gesticulating with their hands to try to describe the shape variances. This didn’t go over too well in Oakville, which in those days was a rather staid and formal place.
For the great international tobogganing expedition, I took four long alpine skis, some blocks of wood, and quite a few 8 foot planks, and knocked together a steerable sled that was four feet wide and twelve feet long. We went out to Milton, climbed to the top of the tobogganing hill, loaded the six Indonesian engineers on the sled, and waved encouragingly as they sped down the hill. Fortunately, the sled held its own course, for the engineers did not attempt to steer it, and instead kept death grips on the planking. And they screamed. I’ve never hear men scream so loudly in all the decades since then. And they didn’t stop screaming even once the sled coasted to a stop.
Of course once they eventually quieted down, they hauled the sled back to the top to do again and again until the sun went down!
One winter a group of my friends and I piled on and raced down the Kelso hill, only to end up in a bit of a mess. One of my companions was legally blind in one eye, and had a glass eye in the other. He was a game lad, though. For example, he drove regularly, pretty much feeling his way along the edge of the pavement and the gravel shoulder. I can’t remember how many of us were on the sled that day, but it was quite a few – about a dozen or so in a pile. As we gained speed, people started getting popped off. By the time we were close to the bottom of the run, only four of us were still on, including my blind friend.
We had gone off course a bit, and were about to fly through some irregular terrain, so after shouting “turn right”, we bailed out. Oh, did I mention that the person who was steering was the blind fellow? Well, yes, he was the pilot, which is why we were a bit off course to begin with. He made an admirable effort, and instead of rolling off with the rest of us, he stayed on and went down with the ship – or more correctly, he couldn’t see the terrain that he was about to crash through, so he figured that staying on would be better than falling off. That might have been a mistake.
A couple of us took him to the hospital, four others tied the busted-up sled to the station wagon roof, and the rest of the gang spent a couple of hours unsuccessfully looking for the glass eye that had popped out on impact.
Year later, in northern Ontario, I put the wisdom I had gained from the giant sled crash to use when I found myself in the winter with a perfectly good kayak, no open water, and proximity to a ski hill. This time I took the precaution of bringing along a paramedic, and wore a helmet.
The two of us off down the ski hill in Sudbury (Adanac) in our kayaks – me inside mine for better control, and he on top of his for quicker escape. Down the hill – Yippee! Jumping the service road embankment – Holy Crap! Into the thicket – Shit la Merde! It was about then that I started using the clause “Nobody died,” to describe fun and successful outings.
I don’t think I could handle living in the prairies.
Hahahaha great stories!
I’ve been to Milton…well, ok, through Milton… and for someone more familiar with the Laurentians and whatever the mountain range is that goes into the Townships (northern Appalachians? my, how dependent on wikipedia I am…), I never felt there were many hills in the area! Ontario is flat in my mind! I really think I’d have trouble with the prairies too!
Also: you built a toboggan? Was there no Canadian Tire in those days?
My best tobogganing story actually took place in Europe, possibly in Bavaria but it could have been in Switzerland for all I know - if I could remember the name of the place I’d look it up. I’m sure my parents know, I’ll have to ask them.
I was perhaps 10 years old, on a trip with my parents and my brother (2 years older) and sister (2 years younger than me). We decided to pay to toboggan down a mountain - you rented the toboggan, a bus drove you up to the top of the mountain and you came back down.
We were rather excited on the way up and I’m not sure any of us really paid attention to what the bus was doing on the 45 minute trip up the mountain, so I’ll tell the story as of the moment we get dropped off and are ready to climb onto the toboggans (brother and mom on one, dad, sis and I on the other).
We look for the start of the toboggan run, and see a sign —>. Oddly, it was the same direction as the one for the bus —>.
We start walking, and realize that we are headed down the snowy, twisty, steep road we took to get up to this little plateau and parking lot we are on. Someone stops us and tells us to use the toboggan.
That’s when we realize that the toboggan run is the road.
:eek:
Tentatively, we start tobogganing… and encounter another busload of people on the way up. The bus is blaring it’s horn as a warning (how did we miss this on the ride up?!) and our only recourse is to throw ourselves into the ditch on the side of the road. The bus goes by, we shake snow off ourselves, climb back on the toboggan and go again… here comes a bus coming back down the hill…throw yourself into the ditch! Here comes a bus going up…ditch! Going down…ditch! You could get some amazing speed going down this road, and the curves were a ton of fun…you just had to remember not to scream too loud, or you wouldn’t hear the buses!
The entire decent took about 20 minutes, and was both terrifying and hilarious at once. My entire family was left with conflicting feelings of that was fun, let’s do it again and never, ever, ever, ever again. We didn’t go again, though the following winter we thought about it…
…I’d go again now, for sure!
That’s not true; every dug-out has nice slopes on the sides. 
And let’s not forget about the Pimple on the Prairies (Blackstrap ski hill) (although I see that is closed now).
Absolutely. See aforementioned “dug-outs.”
You think prairie teenagers don’t find ways to try to kill themselves?
There is only one hill (Georgian Peaks – 820’) in all of Ontario that has enough vertical to host an FIS World Cup Giant Slalom, and even it can’t host an FIS World Cup Super-G or Downhill. The Golden Horseshow is fairly flat, with most skiing in the surrounding region on the single long Niagara escarpment with slopes of about 600’-800’ vertical or less, and most of the remaining skiing on rolling hills and river valleys with vertical typically of 200’ - 300’ and a couple of hills north of Toronto up around 600’. Yes there is a ski hill in Toronto (in Etobicoke south of the highway near the Malton airport) that is garbage. Not anagogically, allegorically or tropologically garbage, but literally garbage, with snow blown on top of it. What it lacks in ski terrain it makes up for in skiing programs – I’ve never seen such a long ski program list. I guess it must be a Toronto thing – if you can’t do it, teach it, and if you have kids, program them to death.
Southwestern Ontario is even more flat. There are areas between London and Windsor that would be good for playing giant billiards. London’s Boler Bump (with a good sense of humour, it officially calls itself Boler Mountain) is 115’, which is even less that Toronto’s garbage hill.
It think that if I were a skier and lived in that end of the province, I’d move the hell away from there. (Wait a minute, I am a skier, I did live down that way, and I did move the hell away.)
Go big or go home – Canadian Tire didn’t have anything anywhere near that size.
We had an old metal Canadian Tire toboggan, but it’s nose was a bit mashed up. A few years earlier, at one of the lesser Kelso hills that faced a parking lot, four of us were a bit slow in bailing out, resulting in the nose of the toboggan getting banged up when it partially went under the bumper of a car (with one of the guys still on the toboggan – his legs went under the car, but he was not hurt at all – the only damage was to the toboggan.) Rather than use the old four person beater-'boggan, I thought it best to start for scratch and build something that could hold a dozen or so people at one time. In later years, when the Red Green show started broadcasting, I came to an epiphany . . . .