This is not the only way out.
Last night’s storm dumped seven inches of snow on my driveway, which, in an S-curve, snakes down a steep hill to reach my house (see photo). I’m snowed in. Trapped—at least as far as motor vehicle access. But I might not be marooned.
There was plenty of time to prepare for the snow—local media’s top story all week. Yesterday I went to the library and WinCo to get ready. (I also browsed Netflix.com, unsuccessfully.) This was more out of a sense of wanting to participate in the big event than to stockpile extra reading material and food. Errands done, I took a last bike ride for a few days, something I will miss.
The weather people were on the money as far as the amount of snow forecast. If they are also correct about the temperatures predicted for the next week, the white stuff won’t melt anytime soon. At this point, I wouldn’t bet against them.
Is there a contingency plan short of hiking up the hill to my neighbor’s carport, where I stashed the Subaru yesterday? The thought crossed my mind that I could escape by water. The same neighbor keeps a small rowboat with oars on her slice of waterfront. I don’t think she would mind if I use it as long as I wear a life preserver.
This morning as I drank coffee and watched the last of the snowfall, I actually thought about whether a boat trip would be realistic. Silverdale, the county’s retail center, is about four miles north of Mud Bay across Dyes Inlet. That’s a long way to row in good weather. And if you are making a supply run, what’s the point unless you row back?
It was so foggy I could barely see the end of Rocky Point, let alone Silverdale. Like Columbus sailing to the New World, I would need a continuing faith that the destination is there. Plus the wind and waves were coming from the north. Brr. Only the desperate would try to escape by boat.
It looks like reruns, rereads, and leftovers if the snow sticks around long term. That or seeing if my Subaru can negotiate the hill.
Mud Bay Blog 