Ice Days

          Snow day #3, Thursday, January 19, 2012 was actually an ice day. John and I flew out of bed at 3:30 in the morning on Thursday after hearing what sounded like an elephant stampede on the roof over our bedroom. The dogs met us in the hall without even barking. Chicken Little was right! The sky was falling!

We thought it was heavy snow falling off of over laden branches on the Douglas Firs (more than 100 years old) surrounding our house. It was only a few minutes before the “running” sound changed to thunderous thuds.

When we opened the front door to see what was going on, we could see branches snapping, and then falling to the ground. The sound was scary—a loud gunshot crack, followed by whooshing air, ending with a thud, or a bowling alley sound, if the branch was rolling down our roof. We didn’t get much sleep.

We got up, thankful that our power was on and turned the TV on to watch the news. I couldn’t wait for sunrise, so that we could see what was up on our roof, and assess what damage had been done. At 7:30 it was still dark. Had the sun taken a snow day? Was the sun’s power out?

When light did finally eke through the clouds, we could see lots of branches on our roof.  Freezing rain had made sheets of ice that covered the blankets of snow and pushed fir branches to their breaking points. Most of the branches on the roof had landed over our bedroom and Sarah’s bedroom too.

Roof above Sarah's bedroom.

The most disturbing thing was the pile of 10 to 12-foot long or longer branches where Johnny usually parks his car alongside our garage. Each branch probably weighs about 75 pounds. Around here, those branches are called “widow makers.” They would’ve done some serious damage to his car if it had been there.

Johnny's parking space.

His Honda Accord, that survived five hard winters in Pullman, Washington, wasn’t in its usual spot here because Johnny was with his girlfriend house sitting her house. Her mother and stepfather are out of town. Johnny and Sarah had planned to spend one night there. It had turned into two nights and three days without power.

Near-miss of John's truck.

The branches from the Douglas Firs had also missed John’s truck, but just barely.  His F-150 is always parked in front of Johnny’s car, right next to a cedar tree whose trunk is so big it would take three adults holding hands to hug it. John tried to move his truck onto the street, but his back tires just spun on the ice and dug a hole beside the driveway. With branches cracking over him, and our bags of sand buried under the pile of branches in Johnny’s parking space, he decided to wait, and hope his truck wouldn’t get taken out.

Old growth Douglas Fir trees around our house.

Throughout the day we listened to all those branches breaking. It sounded like popcorn popping. A few hours later, when there was a lull, John shoveled the dirt the truck had dug out in front of his tires for traction. At last, he managed to move his truck, with much slipping and sliding, less than ten feet away onto the street. Our two other cars were safe in the garage.

I got on Facebook and found out just how lucky we were to have power. People were using their I-phones to post that they didn’t have power. Our house was in a little pocket of heat and lights. Our neighborhood has underground utilities, but the main streets leading to it don’t. Facebook friends reported that those roads were closed because of fallen trees and power lines. Backyard neighbor Carol posted a picture of her beautiful maple trees that didn’t make it. Then we lost our internet service.

Right lane of 39th Avenue closed.

The kids' bus stop up by the Manorwood Clubhouse/Pool.

What the Manorwood Clubhouse/Pool area looked like in Fall 2010.

Johnny and Sarah K. came back to our house arriving in style. Since his parking space was no longer available, Johnny parked out front. I was looking out the window when he drove up the hill, a little past our house. He started turning left and I thought he was going into our neighbor’s driveway, but he was pulling up on his emergency brake so the back end of his car slid up the hill and he drifted exactly parallel and 6” from the curb. I guess that’s an added skill he learned at snowy WSU.

View from the top of our hill. John & Johnny's vehicles parked on the street.

He and John helped the neighbor across the street push her little SUV into her driveway. Earlier, her husband had parked it out on the street. Later, they went somewhere and when they came home, she told John and Johnny that he warned her to park on the street. But, she said she was doing what she wanted—parking in the driveway.

Downed tree by mailboxes.l

Widow maker hanging off our roof.

Johnny and Sarah said that it had only gotten down to 60 degrees in her house because they had a gas fireplace, but it was awfully dark, so they came back to our house.    We all slept in the basement while the branches rained down outside. Even in the basement, I startled awake with the booms, and counted six direct hits on our house. In the morning, Johnny, who was sleeping on the concrete floor, said that one of the branches hit so hard that he could feel it shake the cement foundation of our house.

The source of all the "bumps in the night," above our bedroom.

Today, day #4, was the day that Puyallup started thawing under our usual gray, rainy skies. When we woke up we could still hear things hitting our roof—mostly giant blobs of snow from trees. The view from the porch wasn’t good. One of the gorgeous maples on the edge of our front yard had split. The red Saturn that our neighbor’s wife insisted on parking in her driveway was covered with branches. There were even more branches on our driveway. John started cleaning up, dragging branches to the side of the driveway, and then shoveling the snow off, so we could get my car out of the garage. 

Our neighbor's SUV parked in their driveway.

I turned on the news which said that 275,000 households didn’t have power. The state patrol had dealt with four times as many car accidents. Tractor trailers were jack-knifed on several highways. Highway 18 between Auburn and Federal Way was closed because of downed trees. Most school districts were still closed. A man in Issaquah died when he got hit by a falling limb as he was taking an ATV out of his shed. SeaTac airport was closed for a few hours. Amtrak stopped service between Seattle and Portland. Someone at the LA Times called Seattlites snow wimps. I’m SURE Los Angeles would handle all this snow and ice better than we did because they’re known for all the snow and ice they get. They’re also real outdoorsy down there in LA.

Beautiful maples in front of our house in November.

Broken maples after the ice storm.

The weather forecast wasn’t good. There’s a flood warning because storm drains are clogged with debris and snow, so the rain and melting snow isn’t draining causing urban flooding. Everyone is asked to clear storm drains in front of their houses. Tonight the winds will pick up, so the trees and power lines that haven’t already fallen will be tested again. The high winds will last for a day. After that, they’re seeing the same pattern that kicked off the snow earlier this week. I wonder why I’m just not feeling the same snow anticipation I was five days ago.

Laura Keolanui Stark had to go roaming in search of internet to post this. Our internet is still down. She can be reached eventually at stark.laura.k@gmail.com.