It's not so much the snowstorms that dump feet of White Plague on Lovely Ouray, as it is the deep, penetrating arctic cold that follows in their wake. This morning I was Aqua Velva slapped in the face with a minus 25 degree windchill when I stepped out to shovel a skiff snow from the deck. Hmmm. Might have to pull on some long pants today...
Yesterday's high was a balmy 22 degrees. We had a foot of new snow needing to be plowed and, with no volunteers stepping forward, it fell to me and Plowboy to get 'er done, you know, while it's still light and fluffy. Bobbie did come out to shovel some of the hard-to-get places. Bless her heart.
It takes Low Range 4WD and chains on all four tires to push snow out of the way, especially from our notorious and vertiginous driveway. Sheesh, I'm beginning to run out of places to pile the damn stuff.
I must confess there is a certain virgin-like beauty fresh white snow adds to the landscape. In a few days our "dove" will be soiled with road cinders and salted sand...a grimy mess for sure. Come April, well that's "Mud Season." As with human beings, perfection is short lived, if not an illusion.
No problem farming ice at Ouray's world-renowned Ice Park this year. The week-long "Ice Fest" competition gets started on the 23rd of this month. I'm thinking we'll be on our way south by then...if the snow let's up.
So no whining from all our Rv friends shivering down in Arid-zona. Remember my second most favorite adage, right behind "Life is Good:" "It could be worse."
Now get yourself outside and explore some of Earth's wonderful backcountry.
Peace Out dear readers!
Layered Up in Lovely Ouray,
mark and bobbie