Art is Life is Art: Susan Reep Photo Art

Well, I don’t need another experience like yesterday’s.  Oh, no no no no no.  Mark and I headed up the hill to our cabin in Alta Sierra for Thanksgiving.  Today we have family coming but we needed a head start.  We got halfway up the hill to Glennville and stopped at Hassano’s to eat.  Doesn’t look like much but the food is top notch.  The first thing we noticed was it was COLD.  A different kind of cold than we’ve felt there before – it’s somewhere around 3,500 feet.  The waitress told us snowflakes had just been floating down.

Then – up to the cabin at 6,200 feet.  We immediately encountered the sign that said chains required in 10 miles.  And then we were in ghostly woods.

We were not in fog.  Oh no, not the thick tule fog we get in Bakersfield.  We were in clouds and it felt so still and quiet, so untouchable and even mystical.

I didn’t ask Mark to stop for photos but once or twice since it was slow-going, and even though we were the only car on the road, it was snowy and slick.

Finally, we stopped at a pull-off by Slick Rock Road One for the…you guessed it, chains.

As you read on to the meat of the adventure, keep in mind this lovely tire with chain (almost) perfectly applied.  And while Mark did this, I scoped out the surroundings.  I found a perfect tree.  Would that we could take it, snow and all, for a Christmas tree.

I noticed how much snow there had been by what had been plowed to the side.

I looked over at Slick Rock One cabin and admired the pattern on the roof.

After the snowfall, the trees gave up more of their cover, heading towards naked for winter.  But across the street, other trees were still putting up a fight, holding on to those fall leaves.

My eyes landed on leaves outlined by ice, which may be the most magical image of all.  Ice storms look like fairy castles but they can be deadly.

Back across the street, the clouds were closing in.

The road had gathered its cloak closer, as if to shut out the cars.  Maybe we should have listened.

The real adventure begins

None of this was of any consequence when compared to the real adventure.  We headed down Old State Road, which had been plowed.  Caltrans had done a good job on Highway 155.  But the road to our house was not plowed.  And I wish I had pictures to show you, but you’ll have to take my word because I was too busy shoveling snow to take photos.

Should we go up our road?  We’d driven through snow like that before – we had snow tires, 4-wheel drive and chains.  Going up the S-curve.  Made the first turn.  Didn’t make the second turn- ended up stuck.  Whoa.  What to do?  Mark maneuvered any way he could – no dice. Mark noticed that one of the tires was without chain.  We found it in the snow, mangled.  I started shoveling snow out from behind the tires – but what was that I heard? A sound much better than eight tiny reindeer.  I heard a snow plow.  Off I went to find it and luckily I had my STABILicers on – shoes with metal cleats that fit over the shoes I was wearing.  I’m not hired by STABILicers to plug these ice shoes, but they are invaluable.  We rented some in Sequoia National Park once, and when we bought our cabin I bought about 10 pair in different sizes for guests.  Better than broken bones on slippery ice.

Rescued – almost

Ah – there was Tom, my savior, clearing out the parking lot of the Greenhorn Grill.   What could he do? He could plow out behind our car and maybe we could back down the hill.  He hadn’t been able to plow there yet because too many cars had been stuck!  Tom said the snow was a different consistency than usual – very heavy and wet with ice underneath.  It had snowed and rained and I guess there was too much moisture to push on through to the other side.

Now what?

Road behind us plowed and still we couldn’t move.  I started shoveling again when two guys on snowboards zoomed by and stopped.  Hey, could you help us?  Three more snowboarders arrived.  They were young, strong, everything we could want.  So they guided Mark in how to turn the wheels since we were quite close to the edge with a nice drop off – nothing that would injure us, but it sure would injure the car to slide down there.  They all five pushed on the car to make it go the way we wanted.  And we were down.  We parked in someone else’s parking place.

Rescued, for real.

I had a brilliant idea.  We had all the stuff for Thanksgiving dinner and the car was full.  Have any of you broken a trail, uphill, through deep, soft snow?  Where you sink to your knees with each step? It is NOT fun and in no way an adventure.  I was already beat from running up and down hills to find the snowplow and then shoveling snow.  I kept thinking of all the people who die of heart attacks while shoveling snow and I am 64.  So is Mark.  How many trips would we have to make?  It was a long walk – this next photo is from the balcony of the cabin and you can’t even see where our car was!

BUT there were five young, strong guys there.  Could they help?  Yes, they carried everything, making several trips each.  I started up with my tripod, a light duffel and a snow shovel.  Pretty soon the path was littered with items as I discarded them one by one.  These guys were angels of mercy and we gave them money to have dinner at the Grill on us.  Phew.  And off they went on their snowboards, jumping over the very ditch we would have landed in.

In the house it was much warmer than outside – 48 degrees.  It was 24 outside.  But the heater would not stay on.  Not to worry, I knew just what to do because it had happened when I was at the cabin with my daughter Karen, and she figured it out.  So I gave Mark a bowl of steaming hot water and three towels and instructed him to find the pipe that went from the heater in the basement to the outdoors and thaw it. He was pretty darn impressed that Karen had figured this out – while several men stood around saying oh no, that couldn’t be it.  Why do men insist on thinking women can’t do stuff? Anyhow, three hours later we were at 65 inside which is actually quite toasty.

Visitors

We’d had visitors since our last weekend up.

Raccoons.

We made it to grandmother’s (and grandfather’s) house

We’d gone over the river and through the woods, but you can forget about the horse knowing the way to carry the sleigh through the freshly fallen snow.  Forget about ho-ho-hos and jingle bells.  Down on the driveway we heard the most wonderful sound of all, and it wasn’t Rudolph.

Happy thanksgiving, everyone.  We have so much to be grateful for, including the fact that we have a cabin in the woods, have family to share with us, have heat in the house, doors that lock, and cupboards full of food.  In other words, we have shelter, food, security, family, friends – so much more than most people in the world have.  With that knowledge always in the front of my mind, I find it impossible to seriously complain about anything anymore.

And – with blogs, the internet, Creative Every Day, twitter and Facebook, we have an extended family the world over.  Even though I suffer technology overload sometimes, I’m grateful for it, nonetheless.