The First Snow of Winter

As usual, the media were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. “Major storm warning!” They told us “1-2 feet of snow expected in the foothills by Sunday night.” People were talking about winterizing their houses, were we all ready for this, did we have enough food, drinking water, spare batteries? Were we going to be able to cope?

Me? As a grizzled veteran of 2 ½ Colorado winters I listened with a jaundiced eye, to mix a metaphor. I’ve heard it so many times before, you see. Our news media, in their endless quest to procure ratings without actually reporting any real news are constantly scaring the bejasus out of Colorado’s populace by predicting storms of biblical proportions which turn out to be little more than scattered showers. Sure, occasionally we will get a decent sized dump, such as the blizzard of ’03 which put 10-12 feet down in some areas (although not ours) but generally when the weather service tells us to expect a foot of snow, we can anticipate 2 or 3 inches.

The ski resorts love it of course. Snow reports this early in the season are good for business and a decent blizzard during the Broncos game on Sunday night TV sets their phones a-ringing. So as the players slipped and fumbled in the rain, the commentators continually reassured us that “this is going to turn into a decent sized winter storm later tonight.”

Whatever.

I’d driven up from town in a steady rain but other than getting to try out the Subaru’s heated seats for the first time (did I mention how much I love our new car?) there was little evidence of winter outside the window. By 6pm it had settled into a sort of lumpy slush and by 7 there were traces of snow on the ground. But by the time I turned in, a little after 10 O’clock, it was raining once more and not showing signs of changing.

The alarm heaved me from my warm nest a little after 5am and bleary-eyed I stumbled to the window to see whether or not I was snowed in (2 hours more in bed…come on! You can do it!) Maybe an inch sitting on the railing. If that. Whoop-de-frickin’-do!

As it turned out, there was a bit more than that on the ground. 2 inches, perhaps three in places as I observed while shivering as the dogs sniffed around the yard making no attempt to pee. Still; knowing this was the first fall in several months, and on a Monday at that, I elected to take the bus rather than deal with the other drivers myself.

Scraping a view port on the windows of Angus the 4Runner took longer than I expected. The snow was much wetter and heavier than we’re used and the “good” scraper was sitting in the truck at the other end of the yard. Still, in time I had a little clear spot through which to peer and before long was creeping slowly out of the neighborhood. Even this pitiful amount of snow was enough to change the landscape entirely. Blanketed in white, the trees seemed to close in on the road, leaving just a narrow tunnel for me to drive through.

Once out on the highway, we inched our way cautiously along in single file, unsure whether ice lay beneath the slush. Well, at least most of us did. There were of course, a handful of cretins in big trucks and SUVs who, still smarting from the recent high gas prices needed to assert their manhood by tail-gating the slower drivers, passing on blind bends and forcing their way into gaps to small for their behemothic vehicles. Still, I arrived unharmed at the bus stop and was soon curled up with my book.

Which was really a perfect way to spend a day like this. Ideally I would have had a fire, a pot of coffee and an open packet of cookies on my lap but that was not to be. I did at least have a mug of coffee and the warm sweater I’d dug out from the back of the closet was keeping me toasty as we ground our way down the hill. Occasionally, I would wipe the steam from the window and attempt to ascertain our progress but with the clouds reaching almost to the edge of the road, and the visible landmarks coated in a layer of white, that wasn’t as easy as it seems.

There was little snow in town, where we arrived only a few minutes late. Just a dreary, wet, early winter’s day. Crises of international importance kept me shackled to my desk for most of the day but on the rare occasions when I found an excuse to visit somebody with a window, I could see the rain coming down in steady sheets. I wondered if this was falling as rain up on the high ground. Maybe we’d get that 1-2 feet after all.

I thought the ride home might take longer than the ride in, particularly if the snow had been falling all day so knowing that I was taking work home anyway, I cut and ran a few minutes early to catch the earlier bus. I needn't really have bothered. Oh sure, there was snow on the ground and it was obvious that if it lasted until the sun comes back out it's going to be really pretty, but 1-2 feet? I didn't even have to scrape anything off Angus' windshield. What a disappointment.

I suppose sooner or later there will come a time when the weather service predicts a big storm and we actually get a big storm. Everybody else will be there with their kerosene lanterns and bags of rice and bullets to fend off looters and whatnot, while I'll be freezing and/or starving to death because I wasn't prepared.

Still, until then, who's up for a snowball fight?

Footnote: I finished composing this Gunsmoke File just before heading to bed. No more than 15 minutes later, our power went out. Not just a flicker like we're used to, but a full blown outage. No heat, no light, and worst of all, no Internet. It stayed out until 3am. Turned out the weight of snow had caused a tree to tip and blow out a power line. Maybe it was a real winter storm after all.