February 15, 2007

• Featured Grownups: Snow Dice: A Snow Story (or two, or three)

  Featured Grownups: Snow Dice: A Snow Story (or two, or three)

  Blizzard-like storm blasts Illinois area   "...one of the fiercest February snowstorms in recent memory ..."

  Winter storm cools U.S. Valentine's ardor   "Winter iced romance for millions of Americans on Wednesday as a Valentine's Day storm disrupted the...hearts and flowers...from Midwestern states to the Atlantic shore and southern Canada"

  Furious winter storm pounding Northeast   "In parts of ... New York state...the snow already has piled up to two feet...heaviest snow now...falling from northeastern Pennsylvania into northern New England...Blizzard conditions with blowing and drifting snow...Significant icing is occurring in parts of Connecticut and central and eastern Massachusetts..."

  Major winter storm continues "...from Washington and Baltimore, north through the Philadelphia and New York City will have the best chance for significant accumulations of sleet and freezing rain...near Boston, a more prolonged period of snow will occur...Inland from Syracuse and Albany, north through Burlington, heavy snow will continue today, with some locations...receiving 1 to 2 feet...blizzard conditions across central and northern New England."

  Brrrrrr.

  Featured Grownups says: "Tell us a SNOW story... a bunch, none, some... stuck - sled - ski - snowfolks.."

  One thing about living in Southern California, where it supposedly "never rains" and only snows in the mountains, is that when a "snow story" has to be told, there are very few in the memory banks, so it is relatively easy to come up with one....or two.....or three. They can be read individually, depending upon which one suits the reader's fancy, or all in tandem, as I wrote them.

  One: "Snowplace Like Home" :1972: a harrowing but inspirational snow story.

  
  Mike used to feel empowered when he drove through the winding roads in the hills above Glendora. His brother Daniel would coax his friends to go on a drive with Mike on numerous occasions. It was a wild ride for many a young man. First Mike would drive into the parking lot of  Glendora High, located in a verdant area right on the cusp of the foothills. Mike drove right past the parking lot, and up to the back of the campus through the outside covered halls. His shiny '71 Volkswagen, with 15" magnesium rims on the back mounted with monster tires which caused a need for air shocks to make the body clear them, had a pinstriped yellow shiny paint job, custom carpeting and a blaring 8 track player, equipped with custom tapes Mike made at home from his record collection.

  The neighborhood kids thought this was "cool" and it was a rollicking good time for Mike and his brother, who had always been thick as thieves. Most of the area was dry, with typical California scrub brush lining the roadway, alongside the occasional tree. Mike, Daniel, and assorted friends, including Dan's best buddy Dave, made the drive a ritual every Friday night that Mike didn't have to work. Sometimes Dave might come over to Mike and Dan's on the weekend, and one weekend, Mike's and Daniel's sister Mary Jo decided to come along.

  The winter winds were a bit colder that afternoon, as Mike gunned the Volkswagen into the mountains. He swerved around well memorized corners at 40 mph, astounding the gleeful young adults giggling beside him and in the back seat. Turn after turn came up and disappeared in a flash of light and the skidding of oversize tires. This was a popular game among the siblings and their friends, ever since moving to the city of Glendora, snuggled in the foothills just a few winding miles from the top of Mt. Baldy, high in the San Gabriel Mountains.

  The chill got colder the higher the car climbed, and it wasn't long before Mike kept the bug in second gear, shifting only into third when the wheels had a welcome straight path for a few moments.

  The snow started to fall a bit too quickly.

  Almost before he knew exactly what was happening, the Volkswagen started to slip sideways, away from his control. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, as Dave and Daniel yelled, and Mary Jo, seated immediately to his right, screamed. "Shut up" he commanded in a booming voice, as he yanked the small wood grained racing wheel to it's extreme right, following the path of the skid. The car had never been up high enough to encounter the snowline in winter, but Mike had maneuvered this turn many times when it was clear and warm.

  The three passengers held tight, caught their breaths, and stopped yelling, as Mike seemed to easily twist the car away from the steep precipice ahead, and back onto the winding road, thankfully free of surely murderous traffic. He shifted down to first, hung a UTurn, and stopped on one of the turnouts, which thankfully had been right at the end of his intended maneuver.

  Dave began to laugh, almost nervously. Daniel was in visible shock. Mary Jo proclaimed loudly, "Let's go home".

  Mike didn't showboat at all while driving down the road back into town. He said a short thankyou to Jesus. While the other occupants were screaming, Mike almost had his prayer interrupted, and he told them to shut up in order not to lose his connection with Jesus, who had been guiding his hand during the quick but difficult time.

  Some people make snow angels. And some people have guardian angels. Mike believed the leader of the angels intervened in what could have been sure tragedy, and insured that his snow story had, if not a "happy" ending, at least a safe one.

  Mike never drove any of his cars recklessly again.

  
  Two: "Snowblind in a Snowbind" :1973: a college "Winter Break" snow story.

  
  Spring Break and Winter Break, between the semesters which comprise the school year, are the most important break times, besides the Summer Holiday,  for most of the students attending University in Southern California. In Mike's case, the Winter Break was going to be his most exciting, because last winter he had learned to ski, and this winter he was taking three of his best friends high up into the San Gabriel mountains, to Snow Valley, for a ski trip. Since the mountains are not too far away from where Mike and his classmates lived, the trip wasn't a weeklong extravaganze, or even an overnighter. The group decided to rent their skis and lift tickets ahead of time, collect together in front of MIke's house in the early morning, and be up on the slopes before 10am.  Buck actually owned his pair of skis, and supplied the ski rack for the top of Mike's bug.

  The drive to Snow Valley was uneventful. It's said that everywhere in So Cal is 20 minutes from evrerywhere else. Although the destination, in the county of  San Bernadino, was about 50 miles away, and certainly took longer than twenty minutes, the trip didn't seem long because Laurie, Mike, Buck and Skip, Buck's younger brother, sang school songs and cheers, pop standards, and told stories, making the time pass very quickly.

  When one is not used to snow, and has never seen a blizzard, one doesn't realize when things are getting bad with the cold white weather until it does. And it can get bad quickly, especially when one travels up to 5 or 6 thousand feet as quickly as Mike and his friends did that Saturday morning in the winter of 73.

  The snow trip started out nicely enough. The powder was fresh. All the lifts were running, and though Mike had learned to ski only the previous winter, and it had been cold although clear that year, there was a quick flurry of snow flakes dropping as the group donned and adjusted their skis and separated their poles, marching sideways up the side of the hill toward the lifts. Someone came out of the main room of the massive log inn which held the park's office. He turned to his lift partner and said, "The news said the storm is coming in. It's supposed to be a blizzard."

  Mike and Skip looked at Buck. Buck looked at Laurie. Laurie looked at Mike. "Well, should we continue or go back".

  "No, let's not go back, we're already here."

  "I don't know, Mike" Laurie began, but being the only girl in the group, the boys outvoted her, and they continued to the lift. Before they got to the top of the first disembarkment, the "easy" run, the blizzard had not only arrived, it snowblinded everybody in more ways than one.

  Mike attempted to ski down a mountain he could no longer see, with the wind scratching what skin on his face and neck was not covered by cap, parka,  or goggles like sandpaper. Laurie and Skip were nearly knocked down by the wind. Buck, the most seasoned skier in the group, and the guy who had coaxed Mike to ride a bicycle "from the mountains to the sea" one summer, easily slalomed down the wet, white snow to the bottom. Mike fell down, and found it hard to regain his bearings. Laurie started to cry. Nobody knows what happened to Skip.

  About an hour and a half later, the friends found each other, and Laurie complained the loudest about going home, which they prepared to do. Mike had never seen anything like this, and because he was snowblind, couldn't see anything. After the ski gear was strapped on the small car, Mike began to deftly turn out into traffic, at least as deftly as he could, considering that newly fallen snow was covering most of the roadway, making forward motion all but impossible.

  Three hours later, after Mike purchased possibly the most expensive pair of snow chains in the State, which would never be used again, for his oversize racing tires, the group finally arrived home safely. Buck and his brother Skip remained sportsmen, going up into the mountains not only in California, but in Colorado and Idaho as well, to ski. Laurie got married and settled down.

  Mike never went skiing again.

  
  Three: "Snow Problem": 1977: a secular drug snow story of a different kind.

  Everyone involved in the planning of the Mammoth mountain ski trip looked forward to the weekend when they would pile into four cars and get on the road. Mike and ten other workmates got the weekend off from their jobs at Oles' Home Center as salespeople, boxboys, cashiers, and warehouse personnel, after quite a bit of political maneuvering. It had been easy for Mike, who was going in Paul's car with his brother, because Mike was the department manager for the Garden and Nursery department, and Paul was one of the salesmen. With some creative scheduling, Mike made sure that anyone going on the trip would have the days off.

  Some others, not so lucky, would just call in sick.

  For three weeks preceding the planned trip, which was to a ski resort farther north than Mike had ever been, the potential ski bums checked the weather reports. It wasn't snowing at Mammoth. The cabin had been rented. All the lift tickets had been purchased. But there was no snow reported for at least another month. Back those long winters ago when Mike had learned to ski, he enjoyed the sport. But he had stopped after the horrible trip which was interrupted by one of Southern California's worst blizzards in recent history.

  He didn't really mind if it didn't snow, after all. But Paul and a lot of the guys did care. They blindly went ahead with their plans, until the fated weekend arrived, and then everybody piled their winter clothes, booze and drugs in the cars, and headed up the freeway to the barren mountains in the North of California.

  The trip was long, but it didn't seem long. Mike wasn't driving. He was in Paul's backseat, and the guy sitting next to him just happened to be both Paul's and MIke's dealer, a tall transplant from the east named Walt. Walt rolled joint after joint. Paul's brother pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels, and the group got snockered by the time, so late in the evening that it was really early the next morning, that they pulled up to the Aframe cabin in the Mammoth Mountains resort.

  It never did snow. But that didn't stop the party.

  Acid. Meth. Reefer. Thai stick. Pills of all colors. For one whole weekend, the only snow was the kind one snorted up his nose. Everyone had a great time, except for a few diehards. Paul was pretty malleable, and he enjoyed him self, but one of the lumber department salesmen really got mad at Paul, who organized the whole event, midway into the bacchanal. Paul escaped this a-hole, by going with Walt and Mike on an impromptou race through the snow free vistas beside the cabin.

  Mike hung out the window as Walt spun doughnuts. The thai stick they were smoking was especially strong, and Mike suggested they slow to a stop and enjoy the view from their vantage point, when Walt began to get the notion he really could fly and all he had to do was drive off the cliff.

  Since speed was in the mix of pills, the weekend passed quickly, and soon everyone was back at work. The guy in the lumber department never forgave Paul. He blamed him for the fact that there was no snow. Each time Mike was in the break room when Paul and this guy would begin to have fighting words, Mike would look toward Paul, hold his finger to his nostril and sniff. Paul would laugh, and after work they would enjoy another laugh while smoking some of buddy Tom's homegrown in the back of Tom's van while still parked on the Ole's parking lot.

  The store would close, Mike, Paul, and others would emerge from the back doors of the van, with pungent smoke billowing around them, and then they would get in their respective cars and go home.

  Mike didn't see any snow that year. And it would be many more years until he would venture up in the hillls again.

  ---

  Begun at 7:30pm pst, and finished just now at 9:30pm pst, so this took two hours to write, and there are 2,225 words in the three part "snow story".  I'm going to bed now. MFN

  EDIT: 2/15/07 6:30 p.m. pst. I just realized that perhaps I can provide a service here in Xangaland. As I was reading the various FG entries I didn't see, except for Tude's (MusicTurnedHuman) any videos of snow. So I went searching. Using the search bar at the top of my Xanga, I typed, first, "snow", then 'snowstorm", then "blizzard". I wanted to see some snow. I watched a lot, not a lot of great stuff, but some interesting backyard shots of snowdrifts. I stopped with the video presented below. It was assembled and scored by Chris (OngoingJourney) The images are interesting to me, because I rarely if ever see real snow. This vid shows a snowstorm, utilizing fantastic photography, filtered through serene, lilting music.

  "I enjoyed it so much that I watched it twice....." MikeVideo 

  
  

  "Blizzard" by Chris (OngoingJourney)

  (DON'T FORGET to disable The Dixie Chicks by hitting the stop on the player in the left hand sidebar before watching the video. And no smoking in the auditorium)

  • 12:25 am
  • 85 Comments