Snowpocolypse Tuesday-Wednesday

Tuesday February 26 

Snow continued overnight and I awoke to:

I tried to dog sled but the snow was just too heavy and deep. The runners broke through a couple of feet and the dogs had to break trail. The road was too deeply rutted to keep the sled upright.
"You really want us to pull you?"

A little post spill snow on the lens.

Priorities. The generator powered the refrigerator, freezer and USB docking station. I still didn't have landline, cell or internet but I made sure everything was charged just in case. The nifty, super bright lanterns are also charged with a USB connection. Baby wipes and water jugs completed my recharge hub.

It was still snowing Wednesday the 27th.
After an early morning run, the dogs crashed while Jake focused on all the fat birds right outside the window.

The snow is now above the window sill.

I have gone through two bird feeders filled with seed every day. The birds are so fluffed up, wrens, chickadees, and sparrows all look alike. Only jays, juncos, nuthatches and towhees are distinctive enough to readily identify.

Morning view out the back door. The roof snow curl and ground snow almost meet. Chore for the day was to dig a path from this door to behind the distant building where the wood pile is. The shovel is actually sitting on the porch, three steps up from the patio. That is a lot of snow. My snow stake was buried in there somewhere.

I sent out an SOS. It was still snowing. Not only did I need to get to the wood pile and clear the kennel roof but, two huge trees had fallen across the road overnight. My lungs were filling and I had a serious lack of energy.

I had completed the kennel roof snow removal and was digging the path to the wood pile when JJ, my nephew, just happened to hike in with his family. He immediately went to work removing the trees. Unfortunately he broke some bones in his hand when a log came down. on it. 

 By this time the road was a rutted mess. I had been going in and out with the Kubota and tractor.

While JJ and his daughter Sarah worked on tree removal, My niece-in-law Nami and son Andy helped me finish the path to the wood pile. 
Andy supervised by Trask.

 Nami, who had never shoveled snow before, was a champ.

 Found the snow stake.

 The completed path.

"Snow Dog" Trask preferred the cleared path.

JJ's truck had slipped off the road on their way in. Big Red was sent to the rescue...

but became hopelessly mired at the base of the icy hill.

Shoveling done and the kids decided to try to sled.  After all that was why they came here in the first place. Both are champion athletes but found floundering in the heavy snow a frustrating work-out. Especially when the snow wouldn't support their weight on the sled and they just sunk instead of sliding.

Answering my SOS, the Lind family came skiing in, They had brought avalanche rescue beacons and probes to practice with. John headed out the road with JJ to dig out both JJ's truck and Big Red while Kerstin buried a beacon and the kids took turns trying to find it.

About the time the rest of us had filled the greatroom with dripping clothing and were finishing our cocoa, JJ and John hiked back with a report on their efforts. They did get JJ's truck out. Big Red is in a new location at the top of the icy hill and  is off the side of the road - where it still sits. 
By then the day was getting late. Everyone was pretty exhausted. Hats, coats, and mittens were gathered up and their 1/2 hike/ski back out commenced. 
Peaceful solitude once again enveloped BrownStone.

Snowpocolypse Saturday - Monday

What a week. We lost power, landline, water and internet on Saturday night after the wet snow and winds dropped a tree on a neighbor's house, taking the powerline with it. 
Sunday morning 2/24/2019

"Hey Mom it's snowing!" 

 We awoke to about 3" of snow. 

 "Cool Huh?"

This week might actually have been fun except for a miserable chest cold that left me weak and with little energy - which is a real bummer because I would have preferred to have more fun. I did treat myself though. Friday I had bought OJ and Yukon Jack for my cold. There is nothing like drinking OJ/Yukon Jack slushys after a day of shoveling, while leaning back on a heating pad plugged into a generator and watching it snow! 
Sunday Evening. 
Kennel roof is almost cleared of snow waiting for a dump from the roof above.

 "Snow Dogs" taking my ski trail.

 Side yard.

 Pond.

"Snow Dogs" taking the easy path around the house.

It continued to snow hard Sunday and by Monday morning I had about 3' of very heavy snow. So heavy neither the quad or big truck in 4WD/low could make it out of the garage. Apparently the cell towers were also without electricity so along with no internet, there was no cell service. I had to laugh. Dave, king of radio communications, who left me with over 200 radios, was not here to coordinate the neighborhood efforts to help each other or give me a way to communicate short of walking out 1/2 mile. He set up the neighborhood watch and emergency response groups and would have loved the coordination task. Guess I am going to have to learn CB and Ham.

Post holing was not an easy option. I tried to ski but each step went down to crotch level. The bindings on my snow shoes had disintegrated into tiny plastic bits. And worst of all, the dogs couldn't pull the dog sled because it too sunk deeply into the heavy snow. 

"We'll help you ski."   

 "Will you continue to break trail for us?" 

 Chinook tag.

Kennel roof Monday morning. I shoveled the snow off the roof every day to prevent it from collapsing.

Snow already above the bottom of the window and a very busy bird feeder.

 Back yard.

Without electricity or heat, the bed was a popular place.

31" on top of hot tub Monday morning.

Upper roof snow threatening the kennel roof.

 Back yard.

Monday afternoon, the Lind family skied in with dad John breaking trail. They brought me more OJ, bread, and cheese plus cocoa I could share with guests. By that time my cold had progressed to filling my lungs. Earlier it had taken all my strength to haul 10 gallons of gas from the fuel house to the back of the house so I could run the generator to re-cool the refrigerator and freezer and recharge my cell phone. I was attempting to fashion snowshoe bindings out of dog collars when the Linds showed up.
By Monday evening I was settled into to long term "snow camping" with OJ slushy in hand, fire in the wood stove, belly full of stir fry, pots of snow melting, gloves and hats drying and dogs lying at my feet in candle glow.

Last Call - Final Sweep

Police, firefighters, EMTs and Ski Patrollers have a "Last Call" ceremony to commemorate the loss of a member.

"Patrol to Dave Brown"

silence

"Patrol to Dave Brown"

silence

"Patrol to Dave Brown"

silence

"No contact - Patrol"

(At the end of each ski day, Patrollers "sweep" the mountain to make sure all skiers made it off the hill safely - that no one was left behind.)

The sled with Dave's vest, jacket and radio pack.

After the "Last Call", the ski patrol skis down an empty sled accompanied by patrollers sweeping the hill one last time.

The "Final Sweep".

The conditions were a near white-out blizzard. The 100+ of us on the lodge steps, waited somberly, seemingly forever, for the first sight of the sled. The silence was broken when I quipped that "Dave loved little more than coordinating a search and now he has the entire lost Patrol to look for." From then on Daveisms were widely shared.
Only when they neared the bottom of the run, did the procession come into sight.

I quit counting at 80 skiers - and they still kept coming. Snow and tears blurred my vision.

A semi-circle was formed in front of those of us on the steps. An incredibly moving eulogy was given...

and a beautifully engraved plaque was presented to me to hang in the patrol room as a memento of all Dave meant to the Patrol and Ski Area.

To cap off the ceremony, a two stage rocket blasted off to 10,000 feet before exploding and spreading Dave's ashes far and wide over a place that meant so much to him. The thrilling ride was fitting tribute to the guy who never missed running a major fireworks show in 48 years.

That evening one of the patrollers summarized the event: "I have never participated in a more fitting and powerful memorial service to a person than the Final Sweep for Dave Brown at Willamette Pass Ski Area yesterday. Following Dave off the mountain with a 100 or more ski patrollers slowly sweeping down By George in a single slalom curve was an experience that answers the question for me: "Why is life worth living?" From the bottom of the hill the line of patrollers stretched almost all the way back up to the Twilight lift. What is a more fitting image of ski patrolling than the unbroken line of skiers from the oldest associates of Dave to the newest stretching up the hill, lost to view in a blizzard, but following in a single track? I wish to express my thanks to the leadership and patrollers of Willamette Pass Ski Patrol, and to Kay Lee Brown for making this event happen. Thank you Dave Brown for your inspiring leadership for your lifetime."

The ski area owner not only ran the lift after the end of the ski day so patrollers could get up the hill for the final sweep, he generously opened the lodge for a banquet gathering. While the blizzard raged outside, every seat in the lodge was occupied by Dave's friends eating the potluck food that had covered 72 feet of table surface. Daveisms were recounted throughout the dinner and beyond. I was wrapped in the warmth and friendship of so many people who truly loved Dave. He may be gone but certainly is not forgotten.
(Photos by Ian Doremus)