When I lived in the Midwest as a child in Ohio and as an adult in Indiana, I thought my exposure to winter snow to be fairly comprehensive. Of course, the snowfalls seemed to have been much grander and more plentiful when I was a child, though that impression might just as well have been colored by the child's viewpoint as much as from any global warming influence. We had big snowstorms in the Midwest and even an occasional blizzard. I remember late October snowstorms interfering with Halloween and the regular as clockwork heavy snows in mid March during Indiana's "March Madness" high school basketball tournament.
We would shovel snow from our sidewalks and driveways and some even used a snow blower or a plow-truck for larger jobs. During one ferocious snowstorm, always referred to as "The Blizzard", the city of Indianapolis was actually shut down for three to four days and the only people out and about were on snow machines or in heavy duty four wheel drive vehicles. The mayor made his reputation on how the public works department successfully met that storm and he won every subsequent election based on that high point of his mayoralty.
We certainly had snow, but the consequence of not shoveling or plowing only resulted in having to walk or drive through slush for a few days, as the snow would almost always be gone within three to four days. If we had enough snow during a storm to make it practical to cross-country ski during our later years in Indianapolis, we had to get out and take advantage of it right away. The next day might provide good skiing, but you certainly wouldn't be able to ski three days later. Snow even became sporadic in our favorite places in Michigan and Wisconsin.
Luckily, during my last winter in Indianapolis and after my retirement, I spent most of that winter season as an unpaid "ski bum" helping to manage a cross country ski resort above Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario. Most of our skiing during the preceding ten years had been at the Stokely Creek Ski Resort. Part of my job there was keeping all of the decks and walkways between the lodges clear of snow. I knew that Stokely almost always had reliable snow and received on average more than 200 inches each season, courtesy of nearby Lake Superior. I also knew that much snow was great for skiing conditions, but it didn't really register in my mind what it meant to deal with more than sixteen feet of snow that accumulates in a snow pack as deep as six feet over the season.
When it became my responsibility to shovel the snow, almost every morning and with some overnight accumulations of eighteen inches or more, I then began to realize what living in the northland really meant. It meant that when the snows fell in early November, you might not see the bare ground again until May. It meant that you always had to immediately meet each snowstorm with a shovel if you wanted to keep a pathway clear. It meant that you didn't just shovel a walkway or entryway; you also shoveled your roof on a regular basis. It was a good winter's practice preparing me for our move to Maine and New Hampshire that coming spring.
Our
new Maine home was in a small rural subdivision and we had a relatively short,
asphalt-paved driveway. Unfortunately, the drive sloped down to our lower
level garage and snow melt tended to run down to the garage and drifting
snow always accumulated in the driveway. We prepared ourselves for
the first winter by buying a small garden tractor with a huge snow blower
attachment on the front. I began that winter by going to Stokely for another
"ski bum" stint.
I remember Ginger calling me at Stokely's office one evening as I was entertaining lodge guests during the wine and hors d'oeuvre social hour. She informed me that our tractor, in spite of chains and counter-weights, could not get up our little driveway with the snow blower attachment unless someone was also pushing as she drove. She also told me that our garage had been flooded by a wall of water and ice delivered by our neighbor's plow truck, which incidentally also took off the corner of the garage wall. Neighbors in New England do like to be helpful. On top of that, the second story deck had an accumulation of two feet of combined snow and ice and was making ominous creaking noises that portended an immediate disaster. (Photo: April 1 snow pack at the Maine house.)
She then told me that she was tired of dealing with those problems and was going to bed and if the deck collapsed, so be it. I spent only four weeks of the season at Stokely that year and was back in Maine by early February. We eventually bought a self-propelled snow blower and learned to always keep ahead of the snow.
Having learned to manage Maine's snow, we thought we were then prepared to deal with the snow at our newly built cottage at First Mountain. Our Maine house is within ten miles of the coast and winter is somewhat tempered by the sea, though we are just far enough inland to be on the receiving end of the snow line. The First Mountain House is in the mountains and there is no sea to temper the weather, only nearby Mount Washington to add its influence. Mount Washington's major claim to fame, besides being the tallest peak in New England, is its well earned claim to having the "World's Worst Weather" and the highest sustained wind speed ever recorded.
It is not at all unusual to have a snow depth of three feet in our woods by March each year. After all, Shelburne receives on average 100 inches of snow each season. We generally begin to see bare ground by the end of April, though patches of snow often persist well into May. Winter at First Mountain is usually a five-month event and that is one of the reasons we love it there.
The cottage at First Mountain is perched on a small knoll some 80 to 90 feet above North Road's elevation. It is located in a beautiful, though somewhat impractical site and the 500 foot driveway includes an 'S' turn with a broad and steep sweeping curve near the top. Keeping access open in the winter is a challenge, but we wouldn't have it any other way. Two winters ago we had one single storm that dropped 36 inches of snow and our plow man wasn't able to keep the drive cleared. We spent the rest of that season parking at the front of the drive and snowshoeing up to the cottage, towing a sled behind to bring up groceries or other essentials. It was an adventure, though mildly inconvenient.
The plowing contractor now keeps the main drive clear and I use a giant snow scoop and a coal shovel to keep the large landing around the cottage open. The major problem is finding a place to push the snow to so that it won't block future snow removal efforts. The landing does have a steep slope around almost 300 degrees of the perimeter and I now create chutes through the piled up snow so that I can push full scoops of snow through and launch them over the hillside. The driveway also has a steep incline on both sides and I keep chutes maintained there in case I need to hand shovel or push the snow off the drive. The plow truck creates huge piles of snow and by late winter has created a near tunnel with walls five feet high along the sides of the drive. I could never hand shovel the drive without my carved chutes present.
Our covered front porch is about thirty inches above the ground, but by early winter we put our snowshoes on while sitting on the porch and then step up onto the snow pile in front of the porch. The snow pile is a combination of scooped snow from the landing and the snow shoveled off the slightly pitched porch roof.
A twelve-inch snowstorm was a major event when we lived in Indiana and would nearly close our town. We have now adapted to where such a storm is a minor inconvenience to us and we deal with it in a very routine manner. The 36-inch snowstorm mentioned above didn't even result in a missed day of school for the Shelburne children. Winter for us is snow and lots of it. You live with it on a daily basis and enjoy it up here in the North Country, or go to Florida.
Larry
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