If the National Weather Service is to be believed (and given their track record this year, they shouldn’t be) it’s over. This seemingly endless, Donner-Party winter is coming to a close. The ground has been continuously snow-covered at my house since November 4. So that’s five months. It’s not like there will be crocuses popping up any time soon. bit of melting has to happen first. But the forecast has the word “sun” in it, and high temperatures are supposed to be into the low 50s — and that sort of closes the door on winter.
We will surely have more cold nights and even some additional snow. It can snow here on the Fourth of July. But with a few afternoons in the 50s, the lower snow pack begins to rot and the melt is on. The ground has thawed and with heat from above and below, my yard will probably melt off by, I’m guessing, mid-June. It’s a start.
The season didn’t end without a fight. The last storm dropped about 8 inches at my place, which this winter is kind of a token effort. I got up to plow and finished two of the four roads I have to keep open without much effort. I’ve reached the point of being able to do it almost in my sleep. And then I went to open up another one, and it was gone. The road to the old family house has been something of a trench all season long, with windrows about 5 feet high on both sides of it. It’s down to the width of a Subaru, but that’s plenty. But Tuesday morning, it was gone. The wind had blown across the open fields and completely filled the road. I couldn’t get the gate open and in fact could barely find the gate. The road was just a slight divot in the otherwise leveled off field.
There was nothing I could with it, so until the gate is dug out by hand, the house is inaccessible. I guess the good part is that nobody is stuck inside. Abandoning all hope there, I tackled the last road to get to the haystack. The drive chain in the blower snapped. So that meant a parts run to Heber (where it was very tempting to buy an even bigger tractor — seemed like a deal at only $80,000). They had the parts, and I got it running again about dark. Another day of battling winter, but in the back of my mind, I just kept thinking “it’s over.” What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, or crazy.
Surviving the winter of 22-23 is something you’ll be boring your grandchildren about for years. The skiing has been amazing, though I’ve reached a point where I’m not going out if it requires full January battle gear. The resorts have struggled to keep things open. Avalanche control isn’t normally a daily event, and the commitment of ski patrol and other resources there has meant other things don’t get done on schedule, either. Nobody budgeted for plowing the parking lots every single morning all season long. That takes a lot of employees who know how to operate big, expensive equipment, and some of them want a day off every now and then. The season has run remarkably smoothly at both resorts under siege conditions, but the whole operation is feeling kind of tired. Me, too.
There are photo collections of snow piled up on the decks and roofs. My brother’s grandsons built a ski jump on the roof of the tractor shed. The other day, after another round of roof shoveling, we were sitting in the living room taking a break. There was a strange noise up on the roof. We went back out, and found the dogs were fighting over a frisbee on the roof of the house. A few days skiing, I was able to push my pole into the powder all the way to the grip.
We’ve still got two more weeks of skiing, and if the sun comes out, it will be good spring skiing. I’m thinking back to the end of the season last year with bare spots and patches of green grass on open runs. More snow is definitely better than no snow. I’ve eaten lunch out on deck only once this year, and that was more a matter of principle than comfort. There was a real possibility that the soup would freeze, but it was April and you eat on the deck. There was enough light to cast faint shadows. Good enough.
As it warms up the roads will disintegrate. There are huge sections of fragmented pavement in the highway near my house. The cold has frozen it in place, but that will end. The unpaved road to my house is already a pretty serious 4-wheel drive experience between the alternating mud bogs and glaciers. With temperatures in the 50s, it will be all mud.
Last year at this time, the farm was bare ground and I was beginning some work in the fields. The potguts should be out of hibernation and running amok in traffic. That’s not happening. But the sandhill cranes are back, the geese are looking for open water. Spring.
As Mrs. Donner said, we should have the neighbors for dinner to celebrate.