Yesterday we had a big storm. The weather radio reported 75 knot gusts down by Eldred Rock Lighthouse (that’s 85 miles per hour). The snow level nearly reached the beach on The Mountain With No Name before the wind stripped almost all of it away. We heard rumors of snow on the ground in Lutak Inlet.
It was a cold, wet, miserable day. Unfortunately, we had to go to town to vote in the municipal election, and for Aly’s volunteer work at the museum.
We turned the wind generator off before we left in the morning to beat the tide, walking out in a heavy downpour and 25 knot northerly winds. In the afternoon the wind switched to the south and the storm hit. We had to drive around two downed trees on the highway. Crossing the bay home, we got drenched by sideways rain. We struggled to keep our feet in the wind. As we worked our way home across the trail, we dug trenches with our heels to drain standing water, kicked fallen branches off the path, and moved a small downed tree.
Arriving home, we searched the compound for damage, securing the boats, removing the windows from the cold frames, collapsing the laundry table and stowing it out of the wind. We checked to make sure nothing would be affected by the 10 foot seas that battered the beach.
As soon as we were assured all was well, we fled for the cabin, to build a fire and fortify ourselves with hot drinks. That’s when I started loving the storm. There’s nothing like snuggling down in a solid little cabin, with your family safe, warm and dry, while the weather comes down around you. I felt festive. We hear of the hurricane parties people throw on the southern east coast, and I identify strongly with that camaraderie-through-shared-troubles concept. Michelle made her excellent lentil chili and home-baked bread. That, and a good glass of wine made a feast.
The cabin shook and groaned all evening, until the storm passed, and the winds moderated to about 30 knots. This morning, the wind generator’s back on, and the rain has let up. I’m posting, late, because it made no sense to try to get on line yesterday.
Aly’s supervisor at the museum commented that down south, storms like this would be given a name. Here in Alaska, it’s just another day of heavy weather!