Another Blizzard Story

After last weeks story about the Blizzard of Thanksgiving week I thought I had nothing more to say. Turned out I was wrong. (Hmmm, I don’t think I ever said that before.)

During the storm we suffered from sustained winds approaching 53 knots (60 mph). Elaine was sitting at the dining room table watching the wind blowing the snow past our house. I heard her yell, “Oh no, there goes our box.”

Last summer I bought Elaine a patio box to store patio furniture cushion and things like that during the winter. The backstory to that is that Elaine loved that box. She talked about buying a patio box for years, but we just never got around to it. Her plan was get the cushions from the box on sunny autumn/winter days, sit and relax in the sun. On cold days the cushions would be away in a handy place.

Now her precious box was tumbling across the yard headed for the pasture. The box shattered when it hit the fence, traveling at 53 knots. While the box was completely destroyed. The cushions were not harmed, however they weren't stopped by the fence. They continued on at 53 knots headed for the pasture, the creek and beyond; but they looked in good shape.

One by one the cushions were stopped by another fence, a bush, or some trees. Elaine and Ivy were able to retrieve the cushions. Well, except two cushions were not found. Being a person that does not accept defeat, I needed to find those two cushions. The wind had stopped. I decided to put on snowshoes and look for the cushions in the creek bed. Elaine did the same. We have a half mile of creek bed on our property. Over the years flooding has dug that creek bed extremely deep with nearly vertical walls.

(Backstory) One summer day, I thought it would be fun to explore the creek. I walked into the ravine far enough that the banks were too steep to get back out. A neighbor on a horse happened by. Noticing my predicament, he offered to help. My neighbor suggested throwing me a rope and letting his horse pull me up the steep bank. It worked. While thanking him, I made a mental note not to go into the ravine again.

With our snow shoes on, Elaine and I began our journey to find the missing cushions. We found the first cushion stuck in a willow bush next to the creek. There was no sign of the second cushion.

For reason’s I cannot explain, I decided I needed to search the ravine. Looking back, last time I was stuck was in the summer.. Winter could possibly work out with better results. I started down the slope.

The snow in the ravine was to the top of the willows (5-7 ft.) I was walking on the on top of the willows. I didn’t see the cushion, however I was enjoying the walk. For a while, anyway.

Somehow, in the middle of the ravine, on six feet deep snow; one of my snowshoes came off. I didn’t notice my missing snowshoe for exactly one step. One step later, my foot with the snowshoe was comfortably on top of the snow. My foot without the snowshoe was three feet deep in the powdery snow. Looking like a human wishbone, (stuck in the snow) I tried to reach back and grab the missing snowshoe. This is when I realized those yogurt classes I have been taking have not helped one bit. (I knew that stuff doesn’t help.) My body could not bend while in the wishbone position.

I couldn’t reach my snowshoe. I could however, reach the snowshoe I was still wearing; After all, it was on top of the snow, exactly at my eye level. (Wishbone position.) I removed the remaining snowshoe. Have you ever been in quicksand? Me neither! I have been buried in powdery snow almost to my chest. I shot like a depth charge deeper into the snow.

I really could have used my neighbor and his horse right about then. My neighbor, nor his horse were available to me at the time.. Actually, I was hoping he wasn’t watching this (construction language)show.

Getting on top of the snow again turned out to be impossible. I used the willows that were sticking out of the top of the snow to pull myself to the bank of the ravine. I could have used my neighbor and his horse, but I proved to myself I didn’t really need them. What I did need about thirty minutes of sweating and panting; and maybe an opportunity to make better decisions. Oh well, I live to write again. Next time I might send Elaine into the ravine, lighter bodies won't sink as deep..

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Our crazy lives!

Monner