[RC] Riding out in the worst snowstorm since 1772 (was Pictures) - Part 1 - Flora Hillman
As of this moment (5:19PM
EST) , 21" has already fallen on the Washington DC area, and the whole region is
completely shut down. All the major airports are closed,
and the major roads are virtually impassable -- including I-95.
The dogs now refuse to go out (the snow is over their heads) and the ponies are
all safely huddled in the shed while the snow comes down sideways in sharp
tiny flakes. The police are warning everyone in the VA-MD-DE states to stay
indoors and NOT to go out. The temps are down to 17 degrees, and we're still
being told this is only the middle of the storm with the heaviest snow --
another foot or more -- expected in the next few hours and overnight.
The meteorologists are
calling this the all time biggest snowfall in history -- and may top the great
snowfall of 1772 that both George Washington and Thomas Jefferson wrote about in
their diaries.
All I could think of earlier
this afternoon was.... what a perfect opportunity for a ride!
<grin>
Of course, the short 50 feet
from house to stable was easy to walk since my husband had already plowed the
driveway for the 4th time, but the cold was another story. The first hit
of that blowing snow almost convinced me to turn back, but ... this was the
chance of a lifetime. Besides, I'd dealt with worse in my years on the ski
patrol. I turned my face from the wind, and reached the barn, struggling
for a few moments to free the big sliding doors from the deep drifts.
I warmed up fairly quickly
just trying to get the field gates open, back-kicking the deep powdery snow away
the 12' entire length of the two main gates. The snow was up to my knees
-- we had measured it at 15" before I headed out-- and it took a lot
of effort just to get to the back field where the ponies were waiting out the
storm in their big, cozy run-in shed. They came out to greet me enmass,
snowy icicles hanging from jowls and sides, backs covered in white crystals
which their thick wooly winter coats admirable held at bay. They crowded around
me with bright eyes and warm, foggy breath, checking me out to see where I'd
hidden the carrots, most disappointed that all I had to offer was a pat.
My endurance pony was more
than happy to come back to the stable with me, following just far enough behind
so as to not step on me while I struggled through the
knee-high powdery snow. By the time I reached the stable, I was close
to exhausted, but still charged up about the ride.
Since the conditions were
very bad, with blowing snow and intense cold (the barn thermometer said 19
degrees at the time), I left my pony's heavy under-blanket on, and
just threw the saddle over it. I wasn't interested in doing more than a
walk for about 4 miles -- to try out my camera (again) mind you -- so the
pony was better off dressed in a full heavy-duty weather-proof rug than just a
quarter sheet.
I stripped off my boots and
snowmobile suit, and slipped into my mountain running shoes (warm and toasty),
my well-worn leather bomber's jacket (ain't nothing getting
through that sucker), a bandana for my face (old skier's trick), double
lined gloves, half chaps over my double pair of riding breeches, a mink ear band
for my head, and my camera in my jacket pocket.
The snow was mounting an inch
an hour, the winds now swirling into the stable, steadily building a white
drift of snow on the aisleway at the doorway. The world outside was one
color only, with all remnants of both nature and humanity lost in a blizzard of
sheer white.
I slipped on my gloves and
mounted up, securing the polar fleece horse&rider quarter sheet
around my waist, and tucking the draping folds around my legs to keep them warm
and dry. I pulled the bandana up over the bridge of my nose to protect my
lower face, bucked my helmet strap, and picked up my
reins.
