Ebb and Flow

The snow is starting to melt, temperatures rising above the freezing point this month, for the first time since late Fall. The snow is starting to form into snowballs when pressed, and the shift in the landscape is becoming noticeable. Wind, however, remains the most prevalent factor, more so than snow. Some ridges get blown bare, whilst others get the migration landing normally, steadily, regularly increasing the snow totals.

My yard is several feet deep in places; the house and out buildings do wonders for the building up of snow drifts. Snow fencing might help, but when the snow blows in many directions, often at once, just where does one place such fencing? Maybe I need a dome like that cheesy Stephen King novel (is that redundant now?). At least it would block the relentless wind.

Much is slowing down, having spent a month now, working for no one, often not even myself. I am settling into my skin, and planning just what might be next. I am in need of a task to occupy the Self, and such triggers are turning on again, now that work is nil. It will sort itself out, the path, however, is not yet determined.

The Sound of Civilization

Today, civilization was making normal noises. The relentless wind, and the migrating snow meant the morning was spent with the snow blower again; the dog must have tracks to run upon, or he gets irritable and frustrated. I do not blame him. Exercise and movement is good for the soul, no matter who, or what, you are.

The machine was just done humming when two folks stopped by on snow machines, brattling up the hill to my house, fully announcing their arrival long before they became visible. Suddenly, humans. Live, real humans to talk to in the middle of this wilderness. I am still adapting, but all is okay. The world is still out there, life is still happening, and my little universe feels as secure as ever. It was nice to visit and chat, but nice to be here, knowing that this now feels like home.

The dog was run, the trails are open, until tomorrow, and that too is okay. I tend the stove, the house, the dog, myself, and at the moment, there isn’t much else needing to be done. Life is good.

Cold Weather and Power Woes

It is odd to be out here, so far from the electrical grid, and yet seemingly in better shape than much of the country at the moment. I do not mean this as a boast, show of pride or anything of the like. It is mere observation that being fully independent has an upside, as well as the down side; if my power goes out, there is only one human on Earth that really gives a damn, so the alternate side is present.

The snow has returned, the third small storm in as many days, but there was a nice break in the weather this morning. Time to run with the dog, shovel and snow blow out a few loops to run upon, and reload the wood bins for another chilly night. It is currently seventy eight in the living room, so I am surely set on keeping the place toasty. Thus far, I’ve burned nearly two thirds of my wood reserves but used less than 1/3 of my propane, so there is plenty of both to make it until spring and the changing weather.

I hope you are warm, safe and dry, where ever you are, and I hope your power system returns post haste.

Elk in the fields above upper Schierl Road

Brisk Morning at -18 Degrees

I headed out of the park yesterday, for the first time since New Year’s weekend. From my small island of isolation, and some neighbors out and about, I saw SEVEN human beings yesterday. There is in fact a world out there!

I picked up a neighbor (relatively speaking, his cabin is two miles from mine), and we traversed the steep sugary snowed slope to his cabin, pretty much incident free. Untouched for months, the Ortega cabin, on a mountain ridge of its own, showed the true force of the wind. We parked upon, and fell into, a snow drift about four feet deep, before reaching the bare ground surrounding the cabin. Just like my own, this drift nearly circumnavigated the cabin.

It was good timing to be out and about. The temperatures dropped over night, and I am here this morning with what I have dubbed Irony Heaters. I went to bed, at five below zero, and three of the four propane wall heaters were on, and had been on full force. Upon rising, the temperature had dropped to eighteen below zero, and as previous experience indicated, all three heaters stopped working. The colder is gets, the less likely they are to perform. Not a selling point for any heater I am familiar with. Luckily, the woodstove cranks and was running almost wide open so inside is far better than out.

(under the Out label, there is a minus symbol, and cold enough to stop recording exterior humidity)