Snow Shovelling: A Winter Business for Teens

What you actually do

Snow falls overnight. Before school, you clear a neighbour's driveway and the path to their door. Then the next house, and the next. By eight in the morning you're on the bus, and you've earned more in an hour than most part-time jobs pay a 13 year old.

The same customers usually want their grass cut in summer, and that season comes to you without asking, because by then you're the kid who shows up. There's a separate page for lawn mowing and yard work when you get to it.

The person paying you isn't buying a clear driveway. They're buying the morning they don't have to get up at six and do it themselves before work. Older neighbours are buying something more than that. For someone who can't shovel any more, you're the reason they can still get out of the house.

What it costs to start

If your family owns a shovel, you can start without buying anything. If you need your own, a good one is about $30 to $40, and the wide pusher kind beats the scoop kind on a long driveway.

Ask a parent before you take the family shovel out for someone else's driveway, and agree who replaces it if you snap the handle. That conversation takes a minute and saves an argument in February.

A bag of salt or sand is about $10 and lasts most of a winter. It's the thing that turns a cleared driveway into a safe one, and customers notice.

Add a pair of proper gloves, a hat you can hear through, and boots that grip ice. You probably already own all of that.

Find your first customer before the first storm

Don't wait for snow. By then everyone has already grabbed their own shovel.

1. In late October, write a short note. "I'm 13 and I live at number 42. I'll clear your driveway and path before 8 a.m. after every snowfall this winter. $20 a time, or $150 for the whole season. Text my mum at this number." Put it through ten doors on your street.
2. Knock on the two houses where you know an older person lives. Say the same thing in person. Bring a parent.
3. When the first snow comes, do your customers first, before school. Then do the house next door to each one without being asked, once, and leave a note saying who did it. That's how the second customer arrives.

What to charge

Two ways to price it, and the course covers both.

Per storm is simple. A driveway that takes you thirty minutes at $20 is $40 an hour, which is more than most adults earn. But in a dry winter you earn nothing, and customers feel every $20.

Per season is steadier. Say you charge $150 for the winter and you get five houses. That's $750, paid up front in November, whether it snows twelve times or thirty. You take the risk that it's a heavy year. The customer takes the risk that it's a light one. Ask yourself which one you'd rather carry, then price it.

Ask two neighbours what they'd expect to pay before you print anything, because prices in a small town and a big city can be quite different. A steep driveway, or one with two cars sitting on it, is worth more than a short flat one, and it's fair to say so.

Rules and staying safe

Show a parent this list.

• Wet snow is heavy. Push it, don't lift it, and take a break every ten minutes. Grown adults hurt their backs doing this every winter, and you are smaller than they are.
• Ice under fresh snow is the thing that breaks bones. Salt or sand the path once you've cleared it, and tell the customer if it's slippery.
• Tell a parent which houses you're at and when you'll be back.
• Never use a snow blower unless a parent has shown you how and is happy for you to. If one jams, the engine goes off before your hands go anywhere near it.
• Dress for standing still, not for walking. You warm up while you shovel and freeze the moment you stop.
• Some towns have bylaws about when sidewalks must be cleared. Ask a parent to check what your town says.
• Nobody rides on a driveway you are working on. If a customer starts their car while you are behind it, stop and step where they can see you.

Get paid in person. Cash, or an e-transfer to a parent's account. If someone says "I'll pay you at the end of the month", that's fine once, but not twice.

What Aisha would do

Aisha is 14 and lives in Ottawa, where a winter without a metre of snow would be a strange one. She'd sell the season, not the storm. She knows her neighbours would rather pay once in November than be asked for $20 fifteen times, and she'd rather know in November what she's earning.

She'd also pick her houses carefully. Two elderly neighbours who really can't shovel are better customers than five who could do it themselves, because they'll still be customers next year and they'll tell their friends. She'd write the price on the note, so nobody has an awkward conversation on the doorstep.

And she'd walk her route once in November, in daylight, to see where ice forms and which driveways the plough buries. Knowing that in advance is the difference between finishing by eight and giving up at half past seven.

When it stops being fun

It's 6 a.m. and it's minus twenty-five. The plough came through in the night and left a wall of ice at the end of every driveway. You have five houses to do before the bus.

That morning is the business. Anyone can shovel on a mild Saturday. The customers are paying for the person who comes on the bad morning, and if you're not sure you're that person yet, start with two houses and find out.