Whenever it snows, the plow guy comes and cranks up the snow blower between 5 and 6 a.m. to remove the snow from the deck on my building.
For some reason, the machine is parked next to my bedroom window. My bed is pushed up against the window, so my head is less than a foot away from this heavy-footed person as he clomps his way into my dreams and startles me awake when he yanks on that ignition cord two or three times, like a lawnmower. Then I lie there, wide awake for the hour while he does laps around the circumference of my building. I’ll start to doze off when he’s on the far side only to be jarred back awake when he swings by my window again.
I have been tempted to run outside in my nightgown, hair disheveled, dark circles under my puffy eyes, waving my arms and yelling, “SHUT UP! THERE ARE PEOPLE TRYING TO SLEEP AROUND HERE,” at the top of my lungs. I have thought about opening my window and throwing something at him, or just screaming in frustration loud enough so he can hear it.
It has been snowing every night, so Snow Blower Man has been out there every morning, bright and early. It occurred to me that SBM is my very own powder day alarm clock.
The Aspen Times reported last Friday that we’ve already received 130 percent of average snowfall in the upper Colorado River Basin this season. It snowed a foot last Wednesday and an additional foot Thursday. On days like that, having some obnoxious snowplow guy wake you up early is a good thing. It’s also probably the most accurate weather forecast and snow report published at that hour.
I’ve never been one of those people who took a tactical approach to the weather. You know these types: They watch The Weather Channel like it’s porn and have several websites bookmarked, including some of the technical ones such as www.noaa.com. They fancy themselves armchair meteorologists and feel like they have a handle on what tomorrow will be like on the hill.
In case you haven’t noticed, it’s hard enough for the professionals to figure it out. Haven’t you ever heard the expression, “If you don’t like the weather in Colorado just wait five minutes”? The snowplow guy is the only weatherman I need.
After living in Colorado for 10 years, including college and ski bumming in Steamboat, Summit County and Aspen, I’ve gotten my inner weatherman pretty dialed in. I know, for example, that cold air and clear skies mean a high-pressure system has moved in and we could be looking at a potential dry spell. I know wind and warm air mean a storm system is on the way. The best part, especially for someone who grew up skiing in Vermont, is I know it’ll never rain at this elevation during the winter. I love that.
I also know what to expect over the course of a given season in general. It’s going to snow. There will be powder days, and if you miss one, there will be another one you won’t. There probably will be dry spells, but it’ll be nice and sunny, time to work on your tan, hit the park, or venture into the backcountry, maybe take a hut trip while avalanche conditions are stable. Dry spells are also a great time to get some work done, without the constant temptation to get up on the hill. It’s also a good time to travel, when the roads are dry and the passes open. I usually expect dry spells to last at least for a few days, but not this season.
Last Friday morning when Snow Blower Man showed up at 5 a.m. I jumped out of bed and made coffee, needing not look farther than my front porch for the snow report. The phone started to ring at 7:30 a.m., friends as eager and excited as little kids on Christmas morning. It was the Colorado I remember from my childhood, when snow fell overnight and the skies opened in the morning to reveal a magical world draped in immaculate white blankets and trees caked with confectionery sugar, sparkling under the bright sun. The smiling, snow- covered faces in the gondola line were almost as good as the conditions themselves. The snow was so light and deep, it didn’t get tracked, only pushed into what seemed like even deeper pillows – face shot after face shot after face shot.
I might not know what the weather is going to do from one minute to the next, but I do know for sure there will be more perfect Colorado days like those in my future.
Freelance columnist Alison Berkley can be contacted at alison@berkleymedia.com.
