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We had a dumper about like this up Weirdcliffe way back in 1997 or ’98, just as we were headed home from Thanksgiving with the sis and bro-in-law up in Fort Fun.
The weather started uglying up around Bibleburg, so I rang up my man Hal and he said: “Dude, don’t even try. They’re stopping everyone at Wetmore, even if they have 4WD.”
So we spent the night in Bibleburg, after buying some snowshoes at Mountain Chalet, and the next day we drove back to the ranch. Ho-ly shit. Brush Hollow Road was largely invisible, and after I shoveled a spot at our little subdivision’s gate Herself and I snowshoed the climb to our house. One mile, 430 vertical feet. It took a little more than an hour.
Then I got to dig out the steps to the door, and then the woodpile, and yeah, it was a whole lot of fun. We got about four feet, I guess, and it stuck around for the better part of quite some time.
I stomped a snowshoe course around and about our little 43-acre slice of heaven and that’s how we took our exercise for a spell. We hired a backhoe driver at something like $75 per hour to carve us a bobsled run down to the county road. It was just wide enough for a Subaru Legacy Brighton wagon if you weren’t fussy about getting snow in your door handles. Good times. Maybe not.
The view from the deck at Chez Dog when we lived in the Wet Mountains outside Weirdcliffe. It was your basic Realtor’s wet dream.
Weather gets stranger and stranger but still the Rethuglicans crow that we don’t need to “ruin our economy” to avoid it getting worse. Now Bloomberg’s getting into the prez chase…who is going to be the loser from his entry, the Doncs or the Elefinks?
I suspect he entered because the GOP primaries are too infested with Clown Bus candidates. If someone like Trump or Cruz is the candidate for the general election, and Bloomers pulls the last few moderate GOP members away from the GOP, that would be a good thing. He could swing states like Ohio, Pennsylvania, other Northeast places and Florida to the Donks by difference. I suspect many of the rest of the red states are lost causes.
Herself’s photos – as good as they are – scare the crap outta me. I literally couldn’t do it. And at 64 very old feeling years on now, I think I’d be unable to even if I had to. Nope, here in SoCal is where we’ll be staying. Sunshine tax is paid up, gonna be mid-70s come Wednesday. We don’t have any water, and we could all die of thirst come summer, but that’s a small price to pay for nearly year-round warmth in my opinion.
Today was glorious – forecast for sunny skies for the next ten days at least. The trick here is to avoid the puddles left by the rains if you have a bike with no fenders like ours. And dinner? Thought you’d never ask – tonight was spaghetti alle vongole verace (10 euros a kilo) washed down with a Planeta Etna Bianco. I’d forgotten what real food tastes like – freshly baked bread each morning for less than a euro a loaf, vegetables that make you say, “Oh I understand why people eat this”
seafood so fresh the clams are spitting at you while the fish are winking. And don’t get me started on the cheese and salami!!!!
David, I hear you. I’m 62 in March, and winters aren’t getting any easier, even the comparatively mild Duke City sort. And to think I once lived for a filthy winter cyclo-cross, too. I’d drive for hours to get there and pray for evil weather.
Larry, sounds like you’ve found the tall cotton again. I can’t remember the last time I had spaghetti alle vongole. I sure as hell didn’t have it in Sicily.
Oops. What I meant to say was I’m closing in on 60 myself and dealing with winter weather gets harder each year for me also. My self-chosen retirement home is in Crestone, just across the Sangre de Cristo range from Weirdcliffe, but much colder in the winters. And sometimes we get big snow events like this. I’m trying to figure out how I can spend my winters in Tucson. Three months of single-digit temperatures is not sounding so good to me these days.