Snow Patrol: the not-so-virtual ranger
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It’s been a long time but at last the Ranger can report that he’s actually done an honest day’s work. Or rather, night’s work. The worst snow on the Isle of Wight for thirty years has been responsible for me putting on my ranger boots again and getting out there.
In my previous post about snow on the Island I reported:
…my days of dashing around in emergencies are probably past… mind you, if this carries on for a few more days the rangers will need some sleep and even I might have to dust off my hi-vis jacket.
Anyone who’s been following me on Twitter will now know that exactly that did happen, and I spent all last night on emergency driving duties around the Island. Read on to see how I got on. The council’s emergency management process swung into action when the snow began to fall, and pretty soon it became obvious that normal work was not going to carry on. The rangers here on the Island have two very elderly Land-Rovers, work-horses well on their way to retirement, which suddenly took on extra importance to the council. We were drafted in to assist the council’s Mobile Night Service, a programme offering personal care to elderly and vulnerable people 24 hours a day – even when it’s snowing. A team of two carers visits clients in their own homes, sometimes several times a day. This was a service that could not be stopped, and as the country parks and nature reserves were pretty much snowbound anyway, we set up a rota and started doing a night shift. Everyone who could drive a Land-Rover volunteered, even old codgers like me. I took the fourth night, and met up with my two carer colleagues at 21:00 ready for a long drive in unknown conditions.
Very luckily for me, the snow had eased from the previous nights, as the gritting teams worked their way round to the smaller roads and a slight thaw began to bite. Nevertheless, there were a few hairy moments. The main roads are clear, but often the clients live down quiet rural lanes or tracks, and some of these were decidedly slippery. Oddly enough, some of the worst conditions were found in the more urban areas, perhaps because more traffic had been compressing the snow into ice. The night wore on and I steered my important cargo round the Island. The unfailingly cheery and chatty carers working with me explained about their work and what they did. I told them about beaches, parks and wildlife. For me, the night began as an unusual adventure and a chance to pose in front of a landy. But talking to my new colleagues I soon understood the reality of the job. This is a service delivered every night, all night. The mostly elderly people who use it are helped to stay in their own homes when otherwise they might have to move into residential care. What’s more, with the snowy conditions, not everyone was getting the other care they might have arranged, or even the help they might otherwise get from friends or family who might themselves be snowbound. The willingness of the carers to clamber into an oily, smelly Land-Rover showed that they understood this very well. Anyone who has sat in the back of one of those vehicles for long will understand how impressed I was that they didn’t complain once about sharing eight hours of bumpy riding with a spare tyre, a lot of rope and greasy old rags. And even if they did eventually graciously accept my arm to steady them as they clambered down onto the treacherously icy ground for yet another visit, I couldn’t help but appreciate that I was just the driver that night: these council officers were uncommonly determined to keep this show on the road.
Whilst the carers were indoors working, I stood outside and enjoyed the total silence of a snowy night. Sitting in the landy would have been warmer, but a man can’t sit down for eight hours straight, so out I got to wander around. I disturbed a few rabbits, once a fox, and at one point got to stand on the edge of a cliff, listening to gulls and the sea below. I also took the chance to get out my trusty laptop, and send a few tweets for the benefit of any Twitter users staying up late – most of whom, I hope, were sitting cosily at home rather than buzzing around in the ice and snow. I appreciated the clarity of purpose that doing such an important task brings, especially in the circumstances. Driving safely and finding the right place was my job. It didn’t matter that the Land-Rover was dirty and smelly. The logo on the side was from the last corporate design guide; the badge on the old jacket I was wearing was from about three reorganisations ago… none of these things were significant. If only all my tasks were as clearly set out, and as rewarding.
Eventually the Land-Rover warmed up – as they all do, given enough time – and became almost comfortable. On the clearer roads we made good time. The distinctive roar of the chunky off-road tyres blended with the comforting and familiar whistle of the TDi engine, as the old wagon took us reliably towards the dawn. We passed a few milkmen, and even a couple of chaps cycling to work, and I knew the night was nearly over. The last call made, I dropped the carers back home and made my way back. I got out to hear the first birds whistling to tentatively greet the faint signs of the rising sun. After 138 miles, I was tired but had the satisfying feeling of an important job undertaken. I’d shown that I hadn’t completely forgotten my ranger skills, and also learnt something about the unseen work that other parts of my organisation do even when there isn’t any snow.
Well done! Very interesting article and a good companion piece to your previous post.
Nicely done!
Landys never retire though – that one’s only R-reg, must have a good 50 years ahead of it!
Good to know what’s been going on behind the scenes with a valuable service I’ve not heard much about. Thanks! And well done to you and all those who’ve been helping out with it as night-drivers. I don’t envy you in these conditions.