Ice, Ice, Baby…Even the mighty oak falls under enough weight
We had tremendous ice storms Thursday night. The weather was such that the mist froze on the trees. It was quite a scene. Many people are still without power today, Monday. Some are rumored to be out through Christmas. The great trees of New England filled with ice and gave way with loud, rifle-shot cracks. Large branches and tops of trees came cascading down laden with tons of ice. They wiped out any and all power lines in their way.
We were fine at my house. I guess the underground electric cables helped. One great big White Pine (Pinus Blancas) came down on the roof of my wife’s Jeep. It broke the roof rack, made a concavity dent in the roof and swiped off the side mirror. The irony is that she was parked where I usually park. My old truck escaped to rust another day. Unfortunately she made me shuttle her around all weekend.
A Maple tree cast a large branch across my back deck, taking out my wood pile, barbeque and a glass picnic table. Nothing was broken but all was re-arranged. A large Pine arranged a few branches across the roof of my yard shed – but again no damage. I did manage to round up a few tons of wet icy branches yesterday, but there is much more cleaning to be done.
My wife was at them with my chain saw. Nothing sexier than a grown woman with a dangerous power tool! When the spring comes we’ll probably rejoice in another atavistic New England tradition – brush burning. That’s right; they let us start huge fires in our yards. For a pyro like me it’s more fun than running them through a chipper.
Friday morning as the temperature rose something about the dynamics made the trees shatter. My smart teenager said the trees got weaker as they thawed. It was an awesome experience. Standing in my yard and watching the trees explode in great noisy cascades of ice, like giant chandeliers being hurled from building tops. Each plummet preceded by a giant “POP!” as the trees gave way.
As the sun came out it slanted prismatically through the bent trees and their ice. It was really beautiful.
So I decided, late afternoon, to go for a run in the woods and see what the damage was. My back is still sore from running into a tree (long story), but I had to get out. There is something about weird weather that makes me want to go adventuring.
There were plenty of trees and branches strewn about that I had to navigate. In addition there were trees that had been pushed over and uprooted from the muddy ground. I many places I had to pick my way through the ruins on the ground. In one place a big tree had fallen right across the trail about chest high. I couldn’t climb over it and I couldn’t get under it. I had to pick my way through the twilight woods around it, raspberry vines tearing at my bare ankles and tights.
I considered going back out with a chain saw. I’m still on the fence as to whether the ‘chainsaw 10k’ is a good idea. I could also run with my machete that is an 18 inch steel knife. I fear disemboweling myself if I fall the wrong way with it. It’s probably safest to run with axe in hand. It would make quite a workout stopping every now and then to chop through a tree.
The streams I cross in my woods were all at flood stage. My split pine log bridge was barely above water. The stream was pushing under it but had not washed it away yet. This is in a stream that was dry last month.
The other larger brook that I cross on the Boy Scout Bridge was impassable. It was over its banks and flooded 100 feet across. The Boy Scout Bridge stood like a forlorn island in the flood. Its deck was under the flow and its span went from flood to flood.
By late afternoon the ice had been shaken loose in large quantities from the trees. It lay in slushy piles on the ground, at some points 4 inches thick. My trail shoes struggled to gain purchase. It was like crushed ice from an ice maker.
Buddy the Wonder Dog was playful and adventurous. He really likes the cold weather. He was swimming in the flood and doing icy happy-dances in the trail in front of me. The poor guy doesn’t get out enough in the winter.
All in all it was a short slow jog. As I picked my way from one pile of forest wreckage to the next, balancing on the archipelagos above the flood, I reaffirmed my respect for the beauty and power of the Earth.