Snow Much Fun!

Walking on water is no great trick, at least for part of the year around here. For a brief time in late winter and early spring, the snow on the ground has consolidated enough to walk on without snowshoes or skis – at least on cold mornings. After noon, and especially on sunny days, the snowpack warms up enough that walking is replaced by ‘post-holing’ – stepping on snow away from the paths that have been packed down leads to a nearly immediate sinking sensation. We learn not to run: if we posthole while moving fast our momentum (“Inertia is a property of matter!”) will lead to at least a face plant, or maybe injuries to bones and joints from being bent where they should not.

Every season here is the best season. But winter comes with a special gift, as liquid water gets replaced with more solid stuff. This last winter was strange, in some ways (and yes, I am speaking in past tense because spring has come to Railroad Creek Valley): after so little snow that we were on track to set a record for the least annual snow, we got about 140 inches - mostly during February – enough to bring us up to our average of about 250 plus inches. Seemed like it snowed every day, and snowed hard, too!

Holden is situated between a couple major avalanche chutes, and there are countless others up and down valley. In the village itself, we need to be aware of ‘roofalanches’ – the snow that slides off the roofs. We expect snow accumulation on the roofs up to four or six feet deep (consolidated – more on that in a bit); and snow loads of about 230 PSF (pound per square foot). Many of the buildings here have big enough roofs that means there is about fifteen tons of snow up in the air. When it lets loose and slides down and then drops – well it is not only spectacular, but also somewhat dangerous. Seven tons of snow (one side of the roof) could do some damage to one’s person, or to other persons as well: kids here learn to stay out of roofalanche zones, and adults learn to look our for kids that might forget.

‘Nough said. If pictures are worth thousands of words, then, let us lay on, MacDuff! (Can I call you MacDuff?)

West Side of Chalet 14 - Up to Mid-January 2014

West Side of Chalet 14 End of February 2014

The preceding views of Chalet 14 are kind of a touchstone for me: the view of the back or side porch  is what I see when I return to where Alex and I are living this year. Alex, on the other hand, usually goes between school and chalet via the front porch. So: a view of the front porch from the north, and what it looks like on the porch:

Chalet 14 from Chalet Circle:
view of Copper Peak (right)
and Copper Basin (center)

Chalet 14 Front Porch, looking toward Chalet Hill Road

Bent Snow, Chalet 14 East Side at Front Porch

As the snow builds up beside the house, one looks out the window and sees solid walls of snow. Sometimes, out of the corner of  my eye, I saw the snow and thought "snow cave" - with some mixed feelings even thirty-eight years after living in a series of snow caves. But the feelings are mostly good - snow caves have been, are, and will be places of refuge and security. Cozy in a way, and the closest I will ever get to living in water like a cetacean, polar bear or other marine mammal. 

A while back I gave a matins (brief reflection or devotional in the morning) in which I used the phrase 'plastic deformation' in regard to the snow here. Afterwards, an engineer who was in village complimented me (I think) by saying he never would have expected to hear that phrase in that setting. Everyone - sing with me! (You know the tune: I'm too sexy for my shirt...") "I am as geeky as the plastic pen protector (in my shirt pocket)..." And please -  do not ask me if I actually have a plastic pen protector. It could get kind of embarrassing.

Stairway over the Triangle Garden
Between Lodges 2 & 3

Our winter paths are different from our summer paths because they need to skirt the roofalanche zones. Consequently they can present challenges such as slopes too steep to walk comfortably (and sliding is not an option sometimes and for some people; the little kids do it all the time, though). We have been cutting steps in the snow for decades, but LED rope lights add a bit of charm and make the path not only safer but somewhat delightful as well.

The larger buildings in the village tend to be unheated over the winter as well, due to our limited power. We could heat them with, say, biomass - as we do heat most of the buildings. But since we have limited power for cooking and heating, we limit the village population as well - which helps minimize transportation issues as well. So the larger, colder buildings accumulate snow on their roofs which usually does not slide off until it gets warm, or rains (and really, those things tend to arrive together anyway). The presence of liquid water at the zone where the snow meets the metal roof will eventually let the roof slabs slide.

Lodge 2 After the Roof Slabs Slid
(note cap of snow left at ridge)

Roof Slabs Slid - North Side Lodge 2 from East
(about seven tons of snow, falling about 16 feet)

Earlier I mentioned accumulation and consolidation of snow on these roofs. Many roofs did not slide all winter until a week or two ago, so the four or five feet of snow on them was actually the consolidated slab of the total snowfall - say, 250 inches compressed to fifty or sixty inches. Dense and heavy stuff. Beautiful.

We are only about six days from equinox, I think, and the longer days seem to give me more energy. So I will go burn off some of my extra energy, and wish you joy of the same. - Matt