Safety First

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Or “Who Said This Was A Good Job”

One of my tasks while working full time at the bus yard was to attend any collisions or mishaps that happened while buses were out on the road, and make some preliminary investigations. I thought this picture would be a good illustration as the collision was minor, but did force the bus into a snow bank. Also, there were students on the bus, but no one, driver included, was hurt, in what was an odd collision. Shortly after I took the photo, the Police arrived, cleared the scene for recovery, and the second bus took the kids home, just in case you were concerned.

This was on a quiet back road one winter’s afternoon and the driver was dropping the last few students off. He’d been motoring at just below the speed limit (GPS records this at three second intervals) and was approaching the intersection that crossed his road. Visibility was good and the driver of the bus saw the pickup truck approaching his road, from the left, at right angles. Knowing there was a Yield sign for the truck, although not for the bus, our driver did slow, but the truck kept coming. It didn’t stop, and shot out in front of the bus, with the bus front left side catching the truck, but the evasive action our driver took led him into the snowbank. The truck driver got out of his vehicle, came over to check everything was OK, got back in his truck and drove off!

That was odd, but odder still was the fact the the truck driver dropped his wallet as he got out of his truck, and that his drivers’ licence was still in it. There’s nothing like leaving evidence at the scene. Once the kids had gone and the recovery truck had hauled the bus out of the snow bank, I had to drive the mechanic’s truck back to the bus yard. I don’t know if you’ve ever driven a pickup truck with a massive snow plough blade on the front, but believe me when I say that it’s a strange sensation.

Pulling all the data together afterwards, we felt that our driver wasn’t to blame, although he could possibly have avoided the collision with a little more caution given that the approaching truck was clearly visible, even if it was supposed to yield. The Police rounded things off by saying that the truck driver was probably drunk, although by the time they caught up with him, they couldn’t prove it.

That was one of many similar incidents I had to attend, most of them thankfully minor. The investigation was never fun, though, and sometimes ended up with our driver getting into trouble. Our drivers would often leave details out of their accounts, embellish their account and sometimes outright lie about what happened, but I guess it’s natural to be defensive when you’re likely going to be blamed. Still, we never had to fire a driver, just retrain them, and guess who had to do that!

Pickup Trucks

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Or “What’s The Point Of Them?”

It’s no secret that I’m not a fan of pickup trucks. Much of my animosity has been derived from my fellow Airstreamers, or most of them at least, who are implacably opposed to towing their Travel Trailers with anything else. Of course, I don’t tow our Airstream with a pickup truck. The arguments are long and tedious and essentially boil down to “I want a truck because they’re big and manly, and I’ll use my towing requirement to justify the spending of huge amounts of money that are required to buy one”.

But am I right? If you look at the concept of the truck, a rugged utility vehicle capable of carrying loads in the bed, then there’s definitely a market. If your business is towing goose-necked trailers, hauling freight, or dirty and odd sized equipment, then the pickup is for you. It’s a workhorse, and usually a capable one, albeit that the basic technology is pretty ancient.

The problem is that the modern truck has become a status symbol. The engines are huge, the wheels are huge and the radiator grille is huge. They sit so high off the ground, too. Certainly they have all Mod. Cons. these days, as is demanded by the consumer, but for all that they’re still just a utility vehicle. A very heavy, un-sprung body on twisty steel ladder frame, with live axle leaf spring suspension, isn’t the best format for a modern vehicle capable of some quite high speeds. But it is, apparently, what the punter wants. The thing is, people buy these gas-guzzlers for their status value primarily and will never, ever, use it for its intended purpose, that is, hauling stuff. They will use it to tow their $150K Airstream when it really isn’t a great match for such a smart trailer, but they will also use it for their daily commute, to go shopping, even to go on holiday. What they won’t use it for is, God forbid, putting messy and heavy stuff in the bed.

A pickup is really bad at driving, too. It’s heavy on gas, has too high a Centre of Gravity to be safe, has ancient body on frame technology, and rubbish suspension. Why are they so popular then? Well, it’s all about having a big one. Vehicle that is. The owners sit up high, and feel all manly and powerful, usually entirely unaware of what dreadful vehicles they are really driving. Is it true that the size of a man’s vehicle is inversely proportional to the size of their wedding tackle? I wouldn’t know, but it’s a fair old theory.

Here’s a proper Airstream tow vehicle…

North Shore, Lake Erie

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Or “We’re Really Luck To Live Here”

We live not far from the north shore of Lake Erie, in Ontario, Canada.

We haven’t always lived here, or indeed in Canada, and that is perhaps what helps us appreciate what a lovely place it is to live. Certainly it’s not exciting, there are no high mountains (or even hills!), or deep valleys, but it is bucolic, and pleasantly so.

We drove along the old Talbot Trail for a while, one of those ruler straight roads built by the settlers to allow both access to land, and to get from Lake Ontario to Windsor and Detroit. Because it’s been superseded by the 401 freeway, it’s a very quiet road and you can drive for ages without seeing another vehicle, and yet it’s wide and well surfaced. We use it in preference to the freeway if we’re not in a hurry, and it’s to be recommended for easing your blood pressure. The road links some of the old farming communities; Blenheim, Guilds, Morpeth, Palmyra, Eagle, and Wallacetown, to name but a few. It was in Wallacetown that we took a dive south and followed Fingal Line for a few miles, and that it is even quieter than the Talbot Trail. It also has a few dips and turns as it negotiates some of the valleys scored into the soft land that’s close to the lake, to give some nice relief from the flat and straight of the land further west.

All along this lake-side, east-west route, is intensively farmed land, with Corn and Soy Beans stretching as far as the eye can see. At the westerly end of Talbot Trail, there are far fewer trees and far larger fields, but that vista gives way to more trees and smaller fields as you move eastwards. Because it’s an old road, it’s lined with many mature trees, some native to the area, some not, but as this trip was on the last day of September, most were beginning to turn for winter, with yellow, red and brown showing up in among the green. It may not be as spectacular as Algonquin, but in this more gentle countryside it looked fabulous on a sun-drenched day.

The roadside ditches are filled with Asters, Goldenrod, and Sumac, with the remnant of Milkweed still around after their summer bloom. Despite the heavily farmed fields, it seems that the native plants are not going away, and that pleases me.

Of course all that I have described is the post-Contact world, tamed by generations of European settlers. Pre-Contact, the entire area would have been wooded, mostly Carolinian Forest along the lake’s edge, and populated with native people. They had their own routes to travel, of course, naturally made and never using a ruler on a map. It would be wrong of me not to acknowledge that, and of the treaties broken by successive groups of incomers that took the land from its native population, broken by the people who drew those straight lines and cleared the forests. We can’t go back, but we can accept that we Europeans are recent interlopers and really do not own the land, despite what the maps say. It’s fitting to note that we drove this trip on September 30th, National Truth and Reconciliation in Canada, and did acknowledge our presence on stolen land.

Training

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Or “This Is Easier Than I Thought”

Even before I’d started in my full-time job at the bus company, I had embarked on the process to become a Driver-Trainer. Certainly it was an opportunity to work some more hours, but it was also an intense and satisfying job.

In Ontario, the testing of commercial vehicle drivers has been devolved, mostly, to the commercial companies themselves. Given the correct qualifications, people like me employed by the bus company, were able to supervise training and execute written and road tests on behalf of the Ministry of Transportation. While you might think that there’s too much self-interest involved, that is we could just pass anyone and not bother with proper training, it was all very well run by the Ministry and we as testers and trainers were constantly monitored and assessed. Vehicle collision data involving new drivers was always scrutinized by the Ministry and were we to be cheating and not doing our jobs for drivers who crashed, we would surely have lost our place on the devolved licensing scheme.

There are lots of hoops that you have to jump through to become a tester, not least a week on a residential course, learning to teach others. Fail that and you’re simply not considered by the Ministry. But I passed, and was soon teaching others in the classroom, on the Skills Station (photo above), and out on the road (photo below).

Drivers were assessed daily and booted if they were not up to the required standard, although I only failed a handful, and always at the early stages of training, before they were allowed out on the road. Telling someone that they weren’t going to make it, we wouldn’t enter anyone for their tests if we didn’t think they’d pass, was tough and often involved tears – not mine I should add. One trainee I worked with wasn’t getting it, but I felt that she would, given time. I sent her home for a couple of days break from training, and we picked it up again in a much better place for her, and she passed her test comfortably in the end. Perseverance from both trainee and instructor can work sometimes. The last one I failed simply wasn’t getting some the basics, not even after I’d allowed double the amount of time allowed, and it’s interesting to note that it’s generally those that tell you up front what a great driver they are who don’t make the grade. I didn’t keep track of the number of new drivers I trained to a successful conclusion, but I did do twenty-two in six months one year.

There didn’t seem to be a specific type of person who did well, either. Two of the standout trainees were young women with minimal driving experience, who both caught on really quickly, and yet some of the “old and bold” people, mostly men, with decades of driving experience, were the ones most likely to fail. Indeed, a couple of the oldies who had previously held bus driver licenses were the hardest to train and to get through the test. There’s a rule in Ontario that if you are a school bus driver over sixty-five and you catch two or more Demerit points, in your or car or in a bus, then you have to be tested again by Ministry contractors. Despite spending countless hours training with a number of these fellows, I never got any of them a pass, so they all lost their bus licenses. I think it was a case of trying to teach old dogs new tricks, and none of them wanted to learn.

Mostly, though, it was hard work but good fun. I’ve trained with babies in car seats alongside their mothers, people into their seventies and driving bus for the first time, and lots of folk struggling to get work. All of them, though, once they’d mastered the tricks of the trade, were all really happy to be behind the wheel of the “Big Yellow”.

I’d like to have continued training without having to drive daily bus runs as well, but my employer was having none of it, and that is why I’m now fully retired.

Driving On The Freeway

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Or “Why Does Nobody Know How To Drive?”

We had occasion to drive along the lovely King’s Highway, better known as Highway 401, today, between Tilbury and Manning Road in Windsor. It’s Ontario’s primary motorway/freeway/autoroute and has a fearful reputation.

Down here at its western end it’s not so bad, though, with three lanes in each direction between Tilbury and Windsor, and relatively light traffic when compared to that in the Greater Toronto Area. However, the wide open spaces do not good drivers make.

Speed has always been an issue. The limit of 100 KpH means to everyone, including the Police, you should drive at a minimum of 120 KpH in reality. Where the limit is 110, then read 130. It’s not really policed seriously, unless you feel like doing 150+, then you may get caught.

Then there’s tailgating, driving too close to the rear of the vehicle ahead of you, which appears to be more popular in Ontario than hockey. That minimum 4 second safety gap is normally 0.4 seconds on the 401, and I’m really not exaggerating.

Today, though, was the day of the left lane cruisers. So many do not appear to know or understand, on a three lane road, that only the right-side lane is the driving lane, and that the other two are passing lanes only; that’s the law. I get it that you might end up in the centre lane for a while if there are too many trucks in the right lane, but today we had car after car cruising along a near-empty road in the left lane. Certainly, they’re only holding each other up and not doing too much harm, but why do they do it? It seems the height of stupidity to me. Mind you, at least some of those left lane cruisers were keeping to the 401’s unofficial 0.4 second gap rule.

It’s long been my contention that driving education and testing in Ontario is sadly lacking. Indeed, the two kids’ driving instructors both imparted incorrect information to their students, one about speed and one about making left turns. If the instructors don’t know, there’s not much hope. As a former instructor, and tester, myself I speak from a position of knowledge.

All that said, if everyone did as they should when driving, what would I have to complain about?

** An after publication edit. Why do so many people visiting from the United States feel that it’s OK to drive at 130 KpH on a Canadian road with a 100 KpH limit? It seems disrespectful to me.

Parliament and Democracy

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Or “How Pierre Poilievre Wants Us To Be Like The US”

Canada has a British style democracy, for all its faults. Ridings, MPs, three tiers of elected government, and some reasonably civil discourse within the the various legislative chambers. Sadly, the leader of the Official Opposition (Federal) seems to want to use a more US, combative style and has adopted the Trumpian way of doing things. That is to say whatever you want, regardless of how egregious your lie might be, or who you may hurt in the process, if you think it will buy you some extra votes.

The recent trauma about the Speaker of the house calling for a Ukrainian man to be “recognised” by Parliament as a war hero, when in fact he’d fought for the Nazis is a case in point. It was an awful error made by the Speaker, and he has rightly resigned. Understandably, Poilievre wants to make some political capital from this, even though the actions of the Speaker are not governed by the Prime Minister, but the lies he is speaking and writing, just one after another, are appalling. Outright lies, and he knows there is not a shred of truth to any of it. Poilievre’s party has joined in, too; it’s like having our own Dollar Store Trump, it really is.

Poilievre has also hitched his wagon to other egregious events in Canada. He’s supported the fools in the “convoy”, who claimed vaccine mandates were a problem but really wanted to overthrow an elected government, and now he’s siding with a lot of religious bigots who are claiming parental rights but are really speaking out against gay and trans people. It’ll be abortion next.

I think it’s sad that some Canadian politicians have chosen to follow the Trump playbook, and they’ll surely drag democracy down with them. Everything they do is in pursuit of their own personal aims and not those of the country as a whole.

Sad times, sad times indeed.

School Bus Tales

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Or “How Do You Drive One Of Those Things?”

I have a wealth of School Bus stories, but I’ll start with the basics, just how do you drive one of those things?

The simple answer is “quite easily”. They’re big, for sure, but pretty simple beasts and easily handled by anyone who has a mind to do it. Automatic gearboxes, power steering, hydraulic brakes with ABS all round, they’re really not any harder to drive than a car, but you do have to learn the tricks required to make the corners without riding the curbs, and to turn it around without nailing too many mailboxes. In fact in some ways they’re easier to handle than a regular car because you have seven very handy mirrors at your disposal that give you so much more visibility.

To get a licence, though, you do need some special training and that’s down to the fact that apart from the Police and the EMS, school bus drivers are the only people on the road who can stop traffic legally. Those red lights and the extending Stop sign are powerful tools and you really do have to learn to use them wisely. Your cargo is special, too, with up to seventy-two children on board, you have a huge responsibility, when they’re on board, and when they’re approaching or moving away from the bus. What a shame that the pay doesn’t reflect the training and levels of responsibility school bus drivers undertake.

The First Student (my employer) training program was thorough, and it had to tie in with the Ontario licensing programme, which is similarly demanding. Hours driving off-road, trying not to squash plastic cones, hours in the classroom, and hours on the road, before rigorous written and on-road tests to Ministry of Transportation standards. Despite the individual failings of some of the drivers after having attained their licence, you could put your kids on the bus knowing that every driver was trained to a very high standard.

Driving on the road becomes easier with practice, as does understanding how to drive a rigid vehicle nearly forty feet long round some very tight turns, and without clouting another vehicle with the dreaded tail swing, that is the amount the rear overhang of the bus can swing left or right behind you. While you’re driving, you’re also following a pre-set route, with pre-set pickup points, to a fairly tight schedule. Local knowledge helps, but when you start out, or you take on a new route, it can be tough to follow a route, and its stops, often in the dark and often in awful weather. When I started I was covering other drivers’ absences so I could do many different run in a week, and then it was all paper maps and a little light rigged so that you could see it on those dark early mornings. Now it’s an Android tablet PC with the routes downloaded and audibly read back to you as you drive, which is better for all concerned. Of course the down side of that was the driving data collected that was extremely good at catching you if you drove like a dork.

Having mastered all that, then there was the students. The truism that ten percent cause ninety percent of the problems was very true of children on the bus, and with a good bunch of kids you could spend uneventful hours driving around the lanes of the district, almost enjoying it. If you had a few difficult kids, then trying to drive, to navigate and to police the kids was a difficult task. That task was often underestimated by the schools’ administration, and by the School Boards, so working with little support was also not good. However, the ten/ninety rule meant that most times the runs were trouble free.

By the time I’d decided to retire, I could get a new route memorized in two days. I knew the area, the schools and quite a few of the kids, so it all became relatively easy. I had my fair share of incidents (for later posts, I think), but in my seven years driving, I never had a collision and had a completely clear driving record, and of that I was very proud.

More riveting bus stories to come, you lucky people, but I’ll leave you here with the thought that for all my moaning and complaining, I’d always be happy to put my kids, or grandkids, on the school bus.

Get Rich Quick(ly)

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Or “Why Do They Think I’m So Gullible?”

CONDITIONS OF USE NOT KNOWN, FEES MAY APPLY ON USE

WordPress announced my first “Like” for my revitalised blog, so naturally I was curious. Of course, I should have known that it wasn’t going to be from anyone interesting, but with a grim inevitability it was actually from someone touting a Get Rick Quick(ly) scheme. So, no interest in the blog, but plenty of interest in parting me from my money.

The Internet is packed with these people. At one end of the scale it’s a Nigerian Prince who needs you to send him $200 so that he can release $8,000,000 into your bank account (he’ll need those details of course), to the almost plausible ads where they quote returns and show grateful people’s testimony. The one thing that links all of these unsolicited fishing expeditions is that they require you to send them money. I don’t know about you, but I think that is the biggest red flag there is.

There will lots of these scam merchants out there who will tell me I’m missing out of a free fortune, all for the want of sending a stranger some money. The thing is, I can’t think of a single documented case where Joe Blow has sent off $200 to a stranger and made themselves a fortune. It doesn’t happen. I’ve seen the effects of some of these schemes first hand and the results for the unwitting are, to say the least painful.

I was wondering why people think I’d be so gullible as to fall for these scams. I’d imagine, though, that they wouldn’t waste their time if they didn’t get something from all the feelers they put out. It’s quite sad that people can be so desperate as to believe the lies these people spin, all in the chase for a quick and easy buck. There’s the rub, isn’t it? Quick and easy.

I’m quite content to continue ignoring all such approaches, not just in WordPress but pretty much all social media. At least when I get Twitter (Never to be called X) followers I can have a good laugh at all these nubile young women promising me not only fast and easy money, but love as well.

It’s my cynicism that keeps me healthy.

Do You Like The Sound Of The Bagpipes?

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Or “What IS That Noise?”

We do like to camp. When I say camp I really mean drag the Airstream to a local Provincial Park and spend a couple of days in our mobile cottage, missing none of the conveniences of home.

We have just spent a few nice September days at Rondeau, enjoying the mid-week peace and quiet, and doing not much (other than spending the day with the Grandson, then having to go home to the for a doctor’s appointment). It’s therapeutic.

Our peace was shattered, though, when we both heard what sounded like distant bagpipes, competing with the woodland birds and the rustling leaves. At first I dismissed it, I thought I was imagining things, but I was wrong to do that as the sound became ever clearer and ever closer. It was definitely a lone piper, moving around and treating (!) us to short bursts and truncated tunes wrung out of his (no doubt) tartan-clad wind bag.

It went on for a while, too, although we didn’t catch sight of the piper. With no disrespect to my Scottish or Irish friends, I have to say that a single piper on a quiet afternoon in Rondeau isn’t quite what I expected, or wanted. A full pipe and drum band that I know is about to play, maybe, but someone walking around with a single set of pipes? I couldn’t even think of an occasion that merited this wheezy interlude, bearing in mind that I know they pipe the sun down in Port Elgin every night in the summer.

I was conflicted in my dislikes. The sound of an unsolicited piper on a quiet afternoon, or the fact that someone felt it was a good thing to wander around sharing the sound of his (or her) bagpipes with the other campers.

Ultimately though, he was gone after a mercifully short recitation, so no harm done. I might have to pen a letter to the Parks’ people to ask for a new regulation banning the use of unsolicited bagpipes in the park.

Working For A Living

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Or “How To Drive A School Bus”

My successful job application was for the role of School Bus Driver. Twenty-five or so hours a week, on a split shift, bussing the students of Chatham-Kent to and from their schools. I’d never driven a commercial vehicle before, and obviously had never ridden in a North American yellow school bus. But how hard could it be? Training free, but unpaid, so not too bad.

I’d applied months before and heard nothing, but the manager of the local bus company, First Student, called me and asked if I was still interested, and if so, would I come in for interview? I didn’t need asking twice.

At the bus yard, I was interviewed by the Safety and Operations Manager who, having commented that I had filled the many forms in really quickly, gave me a cursory interview, checked my drivers’ licence and told me when I was going to start training! The regulatory stuff regarding the bus drivers’ licence was more tricky, especially was when I applied for the licence, I had to submit a medical and a drugs test. Safety first.

Training went well, on road and off road stuff, and a whole heap of classroom work. Training was undertaken by a couple of drivers, suitably qualified of course, who did that as well as drive bus runs morning and afternoon, so training hours were nicely in the middle of the day. As I remember, it was November and stupidly cold, but hey, this is Canada I guess.

Things ground to a halt, though, when the the licensing people referred my application to the Medical Review Board, on account of my having had a TIA a couple of years previously. Cutting a very long story short, the application was approved months later and in late January 2015 I passed my written and road tests and became an Ontario School Bus Driver.

There’s much to write about that job, which can wait until later. I drove regular bus runs for a year before being elevated to a full time job in the office as Safety Officer. I became a Driver-Trainer (suitably qualified) and worked in the “Wash Rack” cleaning buses for a while. All along, I drove bus routes when the need arose. The pay was lousy, the expectations too high for the compensation, but it was an education, an experience, and a job.

All of that said, though, I’m very happy to be retired now.