Now, I don’t ski. I know, I know. For any of you reading this that skis out there; I am certain that you view my residency status in one of the world’s best winter playgrounds as a complete waste. Whatever. I own snow shoes. I had just gotten used to the snow shoes after a few times out, only last weekend. I was actually excited about deep snow because of my pair of Tubbs. Not that I am averse to snow. I just never really lived in a place where there was so much snow; and yet, this year’s snowfall is apparently a real disappointment.
To me, it is not disappointing. I still got a real feel for what inclement weather can bring. Don’t forget that I drove that damn pass for four months – two of them winter months – and had visions of my own demise on a couple of occasions. It’s not hard to conjure up the possibility of death when one is driving Teton Pass; even when the weather is fair. When you add snow, ice and the possibility of avalanche activity to the mix, well then ya got yer very own ulcer cocktail.
After having been able to give up that drive, I was then left to actually enjoy our winter weather instead of having to hate it fully on a daily basis, which brings me back to the supposed “lack” of snowfall. There was puh-lenty of snowfall for me this year. The skiing suffered on both sides of the Tetons, but for me, it was a nice pleasant way to get introduced to my new home.
I remember this email that got passed around a few years back; one of those letter parodies. The author is writing about their decision to move north to somewhere like Maine in an attempt to get in touch with nature. While the first letter starts as a song to the beautiful winter surroundings, the last letter has progressed to a point of complete disdain for the place. The letter writer has endured shoveling the stuff, driving in it, and being beleaguered with a general sense of malaise due to the lack of sunlight.
When I moved here, I feared that I would be that letter writer by January. We arrived in the patiently hot days of August, and I still felt able to look forward – to see my misery develop over time so that by spring I would be regretful about the move. I feared the worst, as my Catholic upbringing taught me. And the worst really was….?
Well, our pipes froze at work. There are only six of us full time in the office left to suffer the consequences of frozen pipes. We were only without water for maybe a week and a half. Finally we were able to get in touch with a plumber that was willing to hook us up to someone else’s house and let us siphon water from them. This is done with a very lengthy garden hose and two hose bib connections. I had never seen the likes of this type of solution before; when I lived in Washington and my pipes froze (gosh, that sounds like some kind of female malady that I definitely do not want: “Say, ever had your pipes freeze? It’s a real bitch.”), my landlord came over, crawled under the house, and took a blowtorch to ‘em.
So we got the water fixed at work and didn’t have to use the bathroom at our nearest and only grocery store anymore. Then suddenly, a mere three weeks after it all went down, our pipes unthawed on their own. Mind you that this was after the local paper published a front page news story on the frozen pipes in Driggs. A great many businesses had the same problem we did this year. It had something to do with the frost level creeping downward at an accelerated rate due to our warming trend, and then stopping squarely at the level where the city pipes had been installed. Now, in Driggs, the city pipes were installed a mere three feet below the surface. I’m no civil engineer, but I have worked with them for years, and my first impression is “three feet below the surface – how the hell did they get away with that?”, and, “what the f*ck were they thinking?”, and “I’m glad we live in Victor.”
Another casualty of lack of snow was an entire week of weather that was so cold, it couldn’t have possibly snowed even if there had been clouds for it – which there was not. It was a beautiful blue sky with blinding sun coming off of what snow there was on the ground; it was deceptively sunny if you happen to be inside. For outside, it was 25 degrees below zero. During this time, I sent many emails to my friends in Minnesota about this temperature so that they could gain a little perspective: it was 25 degrees below zero without a wind chill. It was an eerie calm surrounded by a devastating cold.
But the snow – the snow was bearable. The snow I saw coming down this year made me feel like I lived in my very own snow globe. Naturally, that snow globe would have a panoramic vista inside of it, ensuring that the viewer understood that there are mountains on all sides of this place. We were welcomed this year with a mild winter, and welcomed in more ways than that by the people and the activity that swirls around us in a lazy dance. I can see myself already looking back on our first winter and appreciating the warmth and the early arrival of spring.
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