Schierly Living

Yesterday was another day of dead calm out in the ranch. Nary a wind to be felt, a sky full of bright sun, and a blue that only Colorado can reveal graced the morning as I ventured down. I hesitated to go; it is eight miles each way, now fully snow laden, and it is ‘only’ the back up generator that is failing. My primary power is still fully in tact, so it is only weeks that a storm is present that I even need worry about such, but alas, down the mountain I went. Back ups are just that; I wanted mine restored.

The Jeep is parked half way down the mountain, at the Merlo and Kline junction, but it is going to be sitting there for a while longer. It still makes me smile that here, amidst all this, the orange fiber optic markers remind me of what lies beneath.

Moon Bug has a new sled (Dave) that went on his maiden voyage, only carrying trash. Saturday I must go out again for consulting gear (computers, monitors, keyboards, stands, cameras, external drives, etc.) all being shipped, so trash seemed a better test run than computer hardware to see if Dave would complain. He did not.

A successful trip, I picked up generator parts, more parts than needed, including a lot I might need. I took the opportunity to restock the fridge and produce bins, so I returned laden in much newness. It was a strange ride up the mountain. It is a mixture of pure joy, riding a track enabled snow machine across a wild mountain range, untouched by anyone else since the last snow, yet I was touched with how much weight I had with me. In the cab, in the back, tucked under a tarp on Dave…. getting home safely kept tickling the brain, amidst the fun, the beauty and the freedom. There is much to manually haul if Moon Bug fails or gets stuck.

Not only did I arrive home safely, but dusting off data gleaned from my father literally forty years ago, and voila! The back up generator is running again, performing better than it has since I arrived. Flawlessly, smoothly, ready again to recharge my batteries on demand.

A man takes much pleasure in fixing his own machines. It is not the money saved. It is not the time saved. It is the satisfaction of diagnosing, understanding, analyzing, and being able to address the problem himself. There are many far more adept men in this ranch, but thus far, I am pleased with my own self reliance, save perhaps for the broken fingers of late last year.

Tomorrow I plan to leave the mountain. Another snow blew in yesterday and yet another four inches of fluff has landed. Today, for the first time in over a week, a vehicle broke a track past the house, and more notably, broke the stillness.

I have supplies galore, but at the moment the back up generator is failing to start. A large, powerful, older gas behemoth, converted to propane, is causing me a couple of issues in regards to such modification. Parts are on order, sitting a thousand feet below me in a box, and it is time to retrieve them amongst a few other wintry items.

Much pre planning goes into outings this time of year. Moon Bug is checked, lubed, oiled, and gassed up. Gear is confirmed to be in the right places, and all supplies to walk in or out are in the back pack. Notes to set the back up heat, etc. are all in place as the day hopefully goes well, but preparedly might not.

Another note to be sure, damned sure, to take the trash down so it’s not sitting here for another four to six weeks. The chain saw, the shovel, the snow shoes and poles, tow straps, rear winch, snacks, water, hand gun, a ping buddy. Much to do, but exciting still.

Traversing this range alone, breaking my own trail across the untouched ridges? There is a sense of pleasure I get in a way not otherwise experienced. Lucky to be here, it feels like mine alone on certain days as such.

The weather shifted uniquely this week and the winds and snow blew in prevalently from the east, such that the drifts are unique and misallocated amidst those that were already here. The temperatures dropped and it was ten below zero at bed time last night. The fireplace insert is amazingly efficient and it remains warm amidst the worst that arrived.

With the recent snows, it seems less and less likely that I will have visitors for quite some time. My neighbors behind me have returned, but are properly track machine enabled. Those otherwise, else on foot, shall not be traveling by any time soon.

When one gets accustomed to the stillness, the blanket of white, unmoving in the calmest January I have experienced in twenty plus years in Colorado, any movement catches the eye. Three yearlings wandered by first, letting me know life was continuing to thrive.

The next day, with text notifications, and the whiny buzz breaking the stillness for miles, human company stopped by as well.

Properly laden with monstrous tracks, my friends were trying out their new winter access vehicle, which climbed my ominous pass with nary a second thought. With the right gear, the right day, and the right attitude, winter can be quite magical and fun out here in the depths of the ranch.

The stillness returned after they returned to their own home. Calm, quiet, wind free and seemingly odd, but I brought in a few loads of firewood for the forthcoming storm last night at sunset. Clad only in jeans and a T-Shirt, it seemed unusually still, warm, and silent again. I am enjoying it much. Fifteen plus inches predicted to drop in the next couple of days, so an even deeper blanket of silence is about to land.

The weather forecasts have finally tipped the balance in the other direction. Four inches of fresh powder predicted for Tuesday, but about a foot landed on the mountain top. Things are returning to last winter’s norm, for the winds soon picked up and drifts over two feet deep blocked the dog’s morning rounds.

Last winter I made a lot of trails for the dog and I to explore, run, play hide and seek, etc. This year I’ve wrapped a band around the house, the old boy’s now limited daily loop, such that he can continue exploring his domain even though it is shrinking.

Another fresh round of snow in the overnight, and another morning with the snow blower. It sure is faster and more efficient, but you don’t know special until a blast of wind directs the spray back into your face on a five degree morning. The old dog refuses to even be outside when the beast is on; the throwing snow seems to unsettle him too much.

The chores are done, the grid is again brushed off and absorbing the rising sun on this day that should be sun filled until it sets. The snow is absorbing the sound and preventing many from moving. All is quiet. All is still. All is well today.

There were two fresh items lacking in my diet last year. By March, I was itching for both fresh eggs and fresh produce of some kind. When I did venture out, both my wintering neighbor and myself gorged upon salads first, with a seeming primal drive.

This year I spent some time studying the varying nutrients one can obtain both from sprouts as well as microgreens. I have decided to try both over the winter to see what might yield. The late snow allowed me to place an order for a variety of flavors and nutrient rich seeds whilst the roads were still quite navigable.

I should be set for a season or two, first having ordered twenty pounds at bulk prices, then having realized a jar of sprouts requires but a tablespoon or two of seeds, depending upon variety. I also acquired some sprouting containers and racks to normalize the process, hoping to be in regular rotation to keep live fresh nutrient rich foods in my diet.

Above is the slightly spicy fenugreek, which is fabulous mixed in my morning eggs. I can also happily report that rye grass sprouts taste remarkably similar to cucumber.

I now have a batch of dun peas and daikon radishes soaking for the next round. I have a few varieties on hand, including the rye, that prefer a bit of time in soil, to then harvest the micro leaves versus the sprouts directly, and that I will begin over the coming weekend.