Blizzard

On Saturday the weather forecasters started warning of a big storm on Sunday. They were predicting that it would start at 1 p.m. and when it didn't, we threw up our hands and assumed that the alarmist weather prognosticators were wrong again.

About the time that Kate Winslet was looking beautiful on the red carpet, the first flakes were starting to fall.

At 1 a.m., I woke with a start realizing that everything was much too dark and much too silent. I got up and came downstairs and found Archie and Brent stoking up the fire and trying to find a non-electric alarm to wake Brent up at 4:15 to get to his job at the log yard behind our house. I gave him a flashlight and an alarm and then settled in on the couch to feed the fire and see the night through. For those of you familiar with the cast of characters in my life Brent is a friend of Archie's and the latest young person to share our home for a spell.

By the time that the power came back, I could see the snow piled up on my kitchen window bird feeder and realized this was a monster storm--20 inches for us. As I write, I see Brent walking up the driveway, I guess it was too much snow for the log yard to operate.

Did someone mention daffodils, returning red-winged blackbirds and salamanders? It hardly seems possible.

Cardinals in the Snow

The Bluejays spent most of the day at the feeders, but just before dusk, Mr. Cardinal arrived. He ate and looked around and ate some more then flew off and brought back Mrs. Cardinal. What a cute couple--look how he dotes on her.

As the rest of the country digs out and recovers from the storm, we are in the thick of it. At this point, we probably have close to a foot and it is supposed to continue until midnight. Bee class was canceled.

I am planning a hike into Carter Notch with a friend on Saturday. It should be beautiful but I hope some hearty souls get in there to pack out Nineteen Mile Brook Trail before we head in. In fact, if I could have my preference it would be a group of very heavy people on snowshoes or perhaps even a large group of boyscouts. The harder the snow is packed down, the easier for those that follow.

Working on a Snowy Sunday

My primary bird feeding station is just outside of my office window. I was feeling a little sorry for myself having to work all weekend after finishing a long trial week but the Blue Jays came out in the snowstorm to keep me company.

What a long week it was, this first week of January, and did I make my goal to snow shoe or ski at least twice this week? Sadly, no, but hopes and resolutions spring eternal--perhaps next week.

Last snow shoe hike

I went snowshoeing at my folks' place today, probably the last snow shoe of the season for me. The snow is losing it's weightbearing properties and next weekend I'm heading to DC to see 3/4 of my children and cherry blossoms.

As we ate lunch after my difficult hike, my mother, the Missisissippi girl, said "well, it's been interesting to make it through a hard Maine winter but next year I don't think I'll be quite so excited when I see the first snowflake."

Oh, my goodness!

Sometimes a picture is worth a thousand words, but I invite you all to think of what those words might be!
Her name is Olympia and she is 122 feet high. Here is a media link.

150 inches and counting!

Oldest son called me this morning from Pennsylvania very excited that Maine was mentioned on the Today Show because of our enormous amounts of snow (150 inches already this winter with another six weeks of potential).

He said, "At Thanksgiving didn't we both say this was going to be a good winter?" I said, "Well, I think we were just being optimistic." He said, "Yeah, I think we say it every year, but this year we were right!"

Ice on Rock

This morning despite the continuation of slippery roads and messy precipitation that has been around all week, I was due in South Paris at 8:30 for Day 2 of the Trial from Hell.

School was delayed two hours, so C shoveled my car out of its parking nook, swept the snow from the windshield, filled up my travel mug and kissed me good-bye. The drive over the mountain was slow but uneventful, however, upon arrival at the courthouse I was greeted by a notice on the door that said "Court opens at 10 a.m. because of the storm." Grrrrrrr......

So what's a girl to do? Well, I had the camera, four wheel drive and a full tank of gas, so I headed up into the hills. It was hard to see much because of the snow, but I was captivated by ice on rock.

Preparation

More snow today, this is a wet one and had been predicted to be rain.

After spending all day in trial yesterday, today is a wool sock, keep-the-fire-going day to catch up on office work and prepare for Day 2 of the trial tomorrow. With any luck, I'll meet C for a slice of pizza at lunch time.

The teenager has skis, a snowboard, and a hockey stick standing in a snowbank right by the driveway so that he can dash in, select his activity and head out again with a minimum of wasted time.

Snow Day

A snowy morning in Dixfield. The call that the teenager and the teacher in our house listen for just came in, so they will be home and safe today.

I'm keeping an eye on the judiciary website but expect to be driving over the mountain for an all-day trial.

My cousin, Dennis Price, wrote this poem about snow and sent it to me to use in one of my posts since he writes from the southernmost tip of Texas and couldn't imagine that he would have an opportunity to use it. Thanks, Texican, it's a good one!

SNOW

The snow fell

stacking silent flakes

one thin matrix on another

covering winter’s brown and dormant scene.

Fresh cold air,

white kaleidoscope,

changing pickets and tree branches.

Moving texture,

windborne criss-cross swirl.

Soft to touch,

bright to see

against a backdrop, gray.

Sassi Race

Last night we had a messy storm, about 4 inches of snow with 1/2 inch of ice on top and today C has taken his Nordic team to Black Mountain for the Sassi Memorial Classic. They headed out early to try and figure out the proper wax strategy for the day. The Sassi race determines the members of the Maine State Team, so it is a high-stakes race for the high schoolers.

Wax is an important component of classic style nordic skiing and very hard to determine on a day like today. The type of wax used is dependent on the snow temperature, the water content of the snow, the crystalline content of the snow and the age of the snow. The purpose is to reduce the friction so that the glide of the ski is smooth and fast.

After the poor conditions last night, the groomers will have been busy this morning setting the tracks for the race, but with the sun shining brightly and the temperatures expected to rise above freezing--perhaps even up to 40 degrees--the waxing is complicated. C has been waxing skis for about 40 years either as a racer or a coach, so he'll get it right, but it is a delicate science.

Backkingdom

Another 6 inches in Dixfield. After spending the morning working in the office, I went to lunch at the Front Porch Cafe with my snow-day-off husband just as the snowfall was coming to an end. In the afternoon, the outdoors beckoned and unable to concentrate on witness statements and motion-writing, I headed out to Backkingdom with my snowshoes.

Backkingdom is a large area of woods, hills and ponds between Dixfield and Mexico. The Webb River runs through it and there are a few hunting camps scattered throughout. The many trails are used by cross-country runners and ATV riders during their season and snowmobilers, cross country skiers and snowshoers in theirs. The trails aren't used by anyone in the mud season (except maybe testosterone-powered males who like to get their trucks stuck). E first introduced me to the trails when he was in high school and running cross country, but truth be told he got his truck stuck out there plenty.

It is easy to snowshoe in Backkingdom because the snowmobiles have packed out the trail, but today I veered off the snowmobile route and slogged through the deep drifts. I found the tracks of a ruffed grouse. The little extensions on the sides grow out of the scales of their toes to help them travel over the deep snow--kind of like natural snowshoes. The ruffed grouse like the deep fluffy snow, because they burrow underneath it to stay warm. I would like to see one make his way under the snow. I imagine he would use his powerful wings to help tunnel in deep enough to use the snow as a nice insulating blanket. In the Spring, the males stand on top of a log and beat those powerful wings to make a sound that sounds just like a chainsaw starting up. Whether the sound is to mark his territory or to attract females, I don't know. But I do know, it scared me half to death the first time that I thought I heard a chainsaw starting up while I was walking through an isolated forest thinking I was alone.

Another big snowfall in Maine

Yesterday, Maine got a nice big snow blanket. In Dixfield, we got 8 pretty, fluffy inches to cover up the snow pack that had compressed and hardened during our thaw last week. Areas just to the south and east of us got over a foot.

I think of December snow as setting the stage for the season--for dabbling in winter activities with the anticipation of much winter ahead; but January and February snow is for getting down to business and playing. A is going ice climbing today after school, C's nordic team will be out practicing at Black Mountain and I'm taking my skis to court, so I can hit the trails on my way home.

Good-bye, January Thaw

January thaw is such a euphemism--it brings to mind, winter-weary folks treated to a sudden burst of flowers, green grass and nesting songbirds.

It isn't really that way at all, at least up here in the nation's eastern tippy top. The air does get warmer and that is a nice relief but the snow begins to melt during the day and then re-freeze at night and that process continues for the duration of the thaw. Much like spring, the January thaw is not an attractive time, it gets slippery and dangerous and every one's nerves are on edge because much of our winter economy is dependent on skiers and snowmobilers. While we still have plenty of snow up here for those activities, if people in southern New England don't see snow in their backyard they tend to forget that we still have it up here and they put the skis away and move onto other things. Those of us not directly dependent on the snow for our incomes but who love it for personal reasons start to get anxious that our winter may be winding down.

Conditions have improved over the last few days, though. The temperatures this weekend are hovering around freezing making the snow pack solid and actually improving it. After a rough week of canceled ski practices, C was able to take his nordic team to a race yesterday and the conditions were fast and the track was well-set in the woods.

The difficulty will be forgotten about 3:00 tomorrow morning when we start to get another big snow storm. The teacher and the teenager in our house like the starting time of the storm--not enough time to get the roads cleared before the buses need to get out but enough time for the roads to be slippery.

Morning sun on the Kennebec

The forecasters are warning that conditions are ripe for ice jams on Maine's great rivers. The deep snow pack, river ice, warm temperatures and expected rain create a perfect scenario.

With the warm temperatures and rain, the run-off from the melting snow pack rapidly raises the river level. The higher level of the water pushes up against the solid river ice causing it to break into big chunks that can get jammed up at bridges or narrow channels.

January Thaw

The 43 degree air temperature and a cameo appearance by bright sunshine made the whole area look like it was being invaded by ghosts.

Ice Crystals

We discovered hoar frost on top of the ice on the West Branch of the Nezinscot River yesterday. Hoar frost is similar to dew. It forms when the air is super-saturated with moisture and the surface temperature is below freezing. The individual crystals are small and form from a single seed crystal and if left undisturbed can grow into beautiful formations. After several calm, cold nights, these crystals in a protected area of the river and on ice that was about 6 inches thick had time to grow into shapes that looked like ferns, feathers and lace.

Snowshoe Walk on the Christmas Tree Farm

The girls and I took our snow shoes and went to visit the Grands in Sumner. Grandmom put on her snowshoes to join us on our walk through the farm; Granddad, nursing a sore knee, stayed behind to be in charge of the hot chocolate.

We headed out through the Christmas trees. No one had yet been on the four-feet deep snow and it was difficult to break trail. We rotated the lead position and eventually made our way to the cabin and then on to the river. It was a beautiful day--comfortable temperatures and the good company of three generations of strong, adventurous women.

A Very Cold Starry, Starry Night

1:30 a.m. found me with M, two of her friends and one other mother standing in Welch's Field watching the Quandrantid meteor shower. The temperature was -9 and our tilted heads exposed our eyelashes, lips and nasal passages to the north sky and immediate icing.

The meteors did not disappoint us as they darted across the sky between the hills but I was relieved when M said, "OK, one more and we can leave."

As I shivered against the car seeking balance against the enormity of the night sky, I thought about shivering and what an amazing involuntary warming action it is and I also thought that perhaps the calories being burned to warm me up might make up for the four raspberry newtons that I ate earlier.

That got me to thinking about chickadees and how they make it through the frigid nights. According to Bernd Heinrich's, Winter World, fat reserves in a chickadee are 7 percent in the evening and only 3 percent in the morning. In other words, the birds spend all day gaining enough fat to make it through a shivering night. They find a sheltered place in dense evergreens or vines and puff out in order to insulate and maintain as much body heat as possible. The main heat loss in chickadees is from their bill and their eyes. To minimize that loss, they tuck their heads under their shoulder feathers when they sleep. Louis has a beautiful picture of a puffed out chickadee on his web site which I am adding in here.

Well, never one to stop a thought train while it's barreling along, I then thought about how we keep warm when we outdoor-loving Mainers go outside in the cold. The secret is layering and, like the chickadee, we try to preserve our own body heat. That reminded me of the publisher's note in the January 2008 issue of AMC Outdoors. The Note is entitled "Heavier When Wet" and talks about the way layering has changed over the years.

When I was first starting to experiment with outdoor fun in the late 1960's, I would pile on layer after layer of cotton shirts and sweatshirts and a few pairs of jeans and then put a huge jacket over the whole thing. On my feet I would have as many pairs of socks as could fit into my boots. I was NEVER warm. My arms would not even hang naturally by my sides with all those layers--they angled out from my body and my feet would turn to blocks of ice within minutes. But, I loved the outdoors so much that I would suffer just to stay out and sled or snowshoe or breathe the cold, sharp air.

Eventually, I discovered what the chickadee knows by instinct, that the point is to trap the body heat and use it for insulation. Layering should be thoughtful and serve a purpose. Circulation is essential, too. If toes can't wiggle, then feet can't stay warm. But most important, moisture is the mortal enemy of warmth and cotton kills. In fact, back to the chickadee, the wings of birds are waterproof and in the rain the birds seek shelter, make themselves small and cover up with their wings.

Well, before my thoughts could go much further, one more double meteor shot across the sky and we all jumped in the car and headed home.

After the storm

Last night, 12 inches fell on top of the many already on the ground. C cleaned up the driveway.


A and M dug a snow cave into the yard.


It looks different than my first view this morning

2008's First Blizzard--No time wasted

The forecasters are predicting 12-18 inches of new snow by tomorrow morning. According to the weather historian in our house, there hasn't been a winter in northern New England like this since 1970.

An e-mail from Texican today told me that he and his wife spent New Year's Eve strolling along the beach near their home in South Texas wearing shorts. From the other hemisphere, Brother called last night--it is summer and hot in Chile.

So, I guess we are all getting what we bargained for when we chose our locales. I'm a snow bunny, there is no doubt, and not at all jealous of 80 degree temperatures--but check back with me in April--I may be ready to switch.

When the snow started this afternoon, I put on the snowshoes and headed down into Backkingdom again and just stood and listened in the forest to the snow and the creaking trees-- and the distant roar of snowmobiles.