Ever been scared and don’t know exactly why? I’m not talking normal scared, like when a dog growls at you or your wife tells you she is trying a new recipe. I’m talking living-in-a-teen-slasher-movie kind of scared. Well, read on.
We were driving back to Moncton from St. John’s, NF. Our van has this on-board computer that lets you know how the distance to empty. It figures the average fuel economy against the remaining fuel and estimates how many kilometers you can go before filling up again. We were heading towards Deer Lake and a highway sign says we are 80 km away. Our on-board computer says we have 90 km to an empty tank. Experience tells us that we have roughly 20 km beyond empty, so we have LOTS of fuel… more than enough to make it to Deer Lake. Or do we? By the time the highway signs say we have 50 km to go, our computer says we are 20 km to an empty tank! What happened? The kilometers click down, there are no gas stations and we are getting nervous. Zero km to empty… Deer Lake 35 kms. Oh shit. Deer lake 20 kms… but now we’ve been driving 15 km on a computer-calculated empty tank. That’s when we saw it. “Gas: 13 km, Howley Nfld” with an arrow pointing to a small country road. Quick decision and a left turn and we were on our way…
The road was winding back and forth… no sign of civilization. We are testing the limits of our beyond-zero-kilometers-left experience. I started feeling like the sign was planted on the highway to trap some unsuspecting tourists into some sort of sick trap. Finally, finally we start seeing signs of a “town”. We pull up beside this lady walking on the road and she says the gas station is “about a hunnerd feet ’round the corner”. We move on and approach the gas station. Well…
The gas station was a pump. A single pump, with only one hose with a single choice of fuel. It’s a wooden building, not much larger than an average bungalow. “Howley Shopping Center” is written on the building. Plumbing supplies, liquor, lottery tickets, groceries, pet supplies and souvenirs. One stop shopping at its finest. There was an old guy out front, hands walking along the wall while his feet walked along the ground, saying “Fill ‘er up. That’s what I’d do. Fill dis up, dere buddy. I’d fill ‘er up if I had ‘er!” Time for a nervous pee, for sure. The bathroom… hmmm… err… stockroom had a toilet, sink, hot water boiler, shelves stacked with chocolate bars, cases of wine, liquor and a safe with the key still in it. I filled up the tank and the girl behind the counter asked me how much. I said “80 something bucks”. She said, “Do you remember how much?” I had to go outside and read it off the pump and come back in to tell her. She was the weirdest part of the experience. She stood out among these small town, toothless, “h”-dropping, rough-around-the-edgers. With auburn hair and lily white skin, she looked, dressed, and spoke more like she belonged on a fashion cat-walk and not small town Newfoundland. To make these people think as strangely of us as we did of them, we bought a t-shirt, a pack of gum, a straw with a paper cup and two tins of corn-on-the-cob.
Once we hit the road again, I turned to Donna and said that I was feeling like I was going to be a victim in some sort of teen-slasher-movie kind of way. She said she was thinking the exact same thing!! It was eerie. What a strange gem of a place.
We laughed nervously and drove back 13 kilometers to the main highway just a little faster than we drove in.
Jody
August 29, 2006 at 8:59 am
It would’ve been even spookier if it was in the winter and in the middle of the night.
Here’s Howley on the map.
I always fill my tank around the 1/4 mark.
ChrisO
August 29, 2006 at 10:25 am
we did the same sort of thing going through quebec once. running out of gas, we had to stop in some crazy french town in the pitch black. the wife did all the talking there, i wasn’t risking getting my ass killed by some frenchie who hates the anglos…
Steve
August 29, 2006 at 10:46 am
Yeah, I normally fill up at a more reasonable mark as well… however, timed right, we can make fewer stops on the way home, avoid filling up in Port aux Basques (saving money), and avoiding traffic in Cape Breton. Besides, we never would have seen glorious Howley, NF.
Middle of the night? I’m friggin’ glad it wasn’t!
Deborah
August 31, 2006 at 11:11 pm
You guys have the weirdest of experiences…I never knew anything of this, but all I could do was laugh. Then again, typical man to rely on today’s technology…like distance didn’t tell you anything…like maybe you were cutting it too close to emptying your tank. Either you have to get the road signs changed or have an IT person check your computer system…or just try turning it off and on again…or better still, gage your distance and gas level yourself. Happy driving. Love your site…
wayne
September 17, 2006 at 12:40 pm
small town, toothless, “h”-dropping, rough-around-the-edgers
not a great way to describe people.
i worked in howley with the railroad and know from experience that the section of road from the TCH is a lonely stretch.
Steve
September 17, 2006 at 11:46 pm
“not a great way to describe people” ???
I only described what I saw and experienced.
Small town: not abrasive
Toothless: that’s what I saw. Could describe small town folk from anywhere in North America (or worldwide for that matter)
“h”-dropping: Well… I never ‘eard any!
rough-around-the-edgers: Well… they were.
Appreciate your comments anyway. I rejoice in Newfoundland’s diversity. I was just describing, the best I could, the scenario I found myself in. You describe it as “lonely”. I agree… at best, lonely describes it.
CC
September 21, 2006 at 12:06 am
I grew up in Howley Nfld, and the lady that you are reffering to with the Auburn Hair is my Aunt. And a wonderful woman she is!!!
Steve
September 21, 2006 at 8:37 am
Well hello CC from Howley! I hope I didn’t offend you with my account of my brief experience there. It was all meant tongue in cheek. The lady with the auburn hair was a young lady, maybe 19 or 20 years old. If that’s her, say hello for us!
michelle
May 10, 2007 at 8:47 pm
I lived in deer lake and we use to go to sandy lake to camp and we use to go to howley to get our supplies and it has been like that ever since I was a kid. And I am 32 so yes it seems scarey to anyone who did not grow up there but for me being away from nfld for 8 yrs now it is a taste of heaven. Howley is the quites town you can find and the nices people anywhere. They would offer you a cup of tea or anything else to make you feel at home. Yes the building is old but to us who grew up around there it is the local hangout and the people who run it make you feel welcomed. More so then the big cities here in new brunswick who would step on the smaller person to get ahead. Howley is where I spent many evening at my uncle and aunts house around the camp fire listening to music and having a really good time.
Steve
May 11, 2007 at 5:20 am
Thanks for taking the time to post, Michelle. Since I wrote this, I’ve met several people who are either from there, or know the place. They all say the same kind of things you say. One of them even said that her life-long dream is to retire there.
Dan
November 10, 2007 at 2:21 am
i laughed out loud, ty
Dan
November 10, 2007 at 2:26 am
I’ve actually been to howley and sandy lake so thanks for the memory michelle, and by some friggin gas steve