The Great Cow Hunt

With all the snow we've had, we've been concerned about all the cows out on the range. Many of the shrubs and grasses they would normally eat are buried in deep snow, and some of the water sources are frozen over. The cows went out healthy, so we knew they'd be good for at least a few days. With the inversion it's been hard to go up in the airplane and get a good look at them, so on Sunday morning we headed out to look for one of the herds. We were graced with over an inch of new snow to start off the day.

This is the state highway. It wasn't particularly early in the morning, but we're about last on the priority list for the plows, so we were in the four-wheel drive truck. The temperature was about 27 degrees Fahrenheit. We took the kids with us, along with blankets, shovels, a picnic lunch, and a sled, just in case we got stuck.

Or wanted to go sledding. You never know when the mood might strike.

Before long we were off the highway and on a county gravel road, but to our surprise, it had been plowed earlier in the week and was in remarkably good shape.

The low clouds (and slightly dirty windows) made visibility really poor, but we were hoping we would be able to spot some cows.

And then sure enough, we did, black spots on the hillside. They had eaten through some of the snow and were nibbling on sagebrush and Mormon tea. Those aren't favorite foods for the cows, but it does provide nutrients and will keep them alive.

My husband wanted to get close to some cows to decide if they looked miserable or not. I asked what criteria he used to tell if a cow was miserable or not, and he said, "You can just tell." So alas, I still do not know exactly what to look for.

This cow was pretty close to us.

I asked, "Is this cow miserable?"

He said, "Maybe."

I grunted. I wanted a definitive answer.

"She's alright. She might be a little tired."

We kept driving.

We continued driving up the one-lane road, finding that the temperature was rising to above freezing as we rose in elevation. Although we didn't have so much fog, that temperature inversion was still in effect.

The cottonwoods and willows along a stream provided some relief from the white conditions. My husband explained to me that the cows would go eat the willows if they couldn't get to anything else. We didn't see any cows in that area, so we surmised that the rest of the herd was elsewhere, but we just didn't know where.

If enough looked miserable, the plan was to try to move them back to the main part of the ranch and feed them.

We had a brief moment of sunlight (on one cliff face), and hoped that the sun would shine more to melt more snow.

We turned around and started back into the colder, lower elevations. The sun disappeared. Dang it!

Then we headed north to look for the rest of the cows. The plow hadn't made it to this road, so we followed the deep tracks of some other truck that had dragged its transmission through the snow. We kept our eyes on the power lines, which in sections had been covered with a thick layer of frost from the inversion. This is one of the biggest reason for power outages around here.

The temperature went down into the teens, and we only saw a handful more of cows. If I were a cow, I wouldn't be hanging out in this frigid spot! Later my husband found them even farther north, where they had found a somewhat warmer spot higher on the bench to hang out.

The deep snow has turned out to be a record for December for a nearby spot and possibly for us. We're expecting another snow storm to come in tomorrow, followed by subzero temperatures. Brrr! I guess we better get ready for The Great Cow Hunt, the Sequel.

Into the Inversion

So we've managed to get an impressive amount of snow out here in the Great Basin Desert.

Even the old-timers are saying things like, "I haven't seen this much snow since my aunt wrecked the car by driving into a snow drift and then had to walk five miles home in a blinding blizzard (uphill), but instead she got lost and went in circles (uphill) for three hours, and then it was really like ten miles she walked (uphill), and she only survived because the Christmas star came out and guided her the rest of the way (uphill)."

Okay, nobody said that.

But I have heard a couple comparisons (or hoping that we aren't going to be compared) to the winter of '48-'49, which was a really bad one. So much snow fell and blew--and blew--that most of the roads in the area were closed and lots of livestock were stranded out in the range. Ranchers couldn't get out to check on them, because each time they started off from home in their Caterpillar dozers, the snow blew back over their tracks and they risked getting stranded themselves.

Sheepherders in lonely sheep camps couldn't even go far from their tiny abodes because of the deep snow. They despaired as they saw more sheep dying each day and they were helpless to do anything about it. They relied on the radio to get news of what was going on in the outside world. And fortunately they got news of something to help them out: Operation Haylift. The U.S. Air Force came out to help, dropping hundreds of tons of hay in western Utah and eastern Nevada. This real-life event took place using C82 "flying boxcars." You can read a pretty good account in this Time article. Hollywood also made a movie called Operation Haylift, using some real footage, and you can find it on Netflix.

Somehow I've managed to digress, because the real topic of today's post is the inversion we've had the past few days. I guess being in all the frigid weather with deep snow has put me in a wee bit of a gloomy mood with regards to weather.

Up high on the mountain, the weather has been great. It's snowy there, too, of course, but the sun is out and trees are emerging from their wintery weight.

Down in the valley, it's been a different story. Instead of the warmer weather being at the lower elevations, like it usually is, the temperatures have inverted, with a cap of air keeping the cold air down in the valley. Those cold air molecules have sunk, and they're trapped until we have wind to blow them out.

Entering an inversion is kind of an interesting process. You start out in the nice sunlight and see the cloud layer below. On the other side of the valley you can see the mountains poking out above the clouds, looking like islands in the mist.

The cloud layer made me think of the time when vast Pleistocene lakes, some as big as today's Lake Michigan, filled the valleys in the Basin and Range country. That was back in the days of the wooly mammoths, dire wolves, camelids, two different horse species, and an array of other animals that made their home here. Paleoindians roamed the area, hunting these animals. It was cooler and wetter than recent millenia.

We've gotten so much snow that the bushes are entirely covered, appearing as white hummocks from a fast moving vehicle. Or from a slow crawl. Or anything in between. This is the kind of weather you expect in Montana, not in Nevada.

The road straightened and the layer of clouds started looking more ominous. I could still see the mountains on the other side...

...but not for long.

It sort of felt like a bad horror movie. You know what's going to happen, but you just can't avoid watching it happen.

And then, there it was: the road disappearing into the clouds. And I was hurtling myself into it.

Help! Stuck in the inversion!

Fortunately this inversion cleared out in a few days. We don't have pollution stuck under the cloud layer with us (like Los Angeles frequently does), so although the colder temperatures (about 15 degrees colder that day in the clouds from up in the sun) and gloomier light might make everyone feel a bit grumpy, it could be worse.

When Desert Boy got up Christmas morning and asked why our stockings hung by the fireplace with care weren't filled with goodies (he had heard from a neighbor that they would be, and then I had promptly forgot), I considered telling him Santa Claus couldn't come in for a landing in the inversion. But I didn't. I chose distraction instead. Hopefully that was the right thing to do.

Nativity Play Dress Rehearsal

Warning--this contains spoilers! Yes, you already know the story of the Nativity, but if you didn't know which kid had which part this year and don't want to know ahead of time, come back to this blog in a couple days.

Last Christmas Desert Boy had the chance to be a sheep in the Nativity Play. He played his role so well (Baaaa) that this year he is going to be a wise man. He even had to memorize a line, which was easier for him than for me. Ah, the flexibility of young brains!

We went to the dress rehearsal today, which is a much easier place to take photos than during the actual play. We could wander around and no one cared. We also had fun watching funnier moments of the practice, like the overly dramatic Joseph dreaming about the angel Gabriel informing him that his fiancee was with child, a child of God.

The very pregnant Mary was obviously uncomfortable, continually adjusting her giant bulge.

The angels always steal the show. They are so darn cute, and they have the funniest expressions.

For instance, get a look at the two angels' faces while the other one is saying her line.

Mary and Joseph were looking a little bored by the whole thing. I imagine that during performance night their adrenaline with a huge (by our standards) audience looking on will keep them looking peppier.

Here Desert Boy makes his visit to King Herod, perched high up on his throne, with the other wise men. He is carrying gold and is appropriately dressed in the same color. He looks so cute. Just wait, you'll see. My camera wasn't doing so great in the low light conditions, but they ran through the play twice, so I had two opportunities to photograph.

The shepherds, sans sheep today, look on as the action takes place.

They sang lots of songs, and it put everyone in the Christmas spirit!

Emma really liked bobbing to the music.

She managed to pay attention for short stretches, then got wiggly, especially when I wanted to take photos of Desert Boy.

Her expressive eyebrows show a little worry. I'm not sure why.

Desert Boy continued his trek.

Desert Girl filled in for the sheep for a little while. She's not too good at sitting still, so she made the shepherds do some work.

Meanwhile the wise men are saying their lines, and Desert Boy, once encouraged to speak loudly enough, nailed his line.

Proud mama beams.

The final number is Joy to the World. It sure was a joy to watch them!

Good job, Sharon, for pulling it all together! And being so patient with the kids--not many people could do that.

We hope you have a wonderful Christmas!

A Lot of Snow

We had a warm vacation the past weekend and then came home to over a foot of snow. Then we woke up this morning to another six inches. Then it kept snowing all day! Yikes!

In the photo above, can you see the picnic tables? I think there are seven of them.

Here's the barbeque and a round spool. I was taking the shortcut to the post office and the snow was up to my knees. It was tough walking! It was really amusing to watch Henry bound through the snow. He looked a little bit like a rabbit, hopping all over.

The school bus has stayed parked the last few days. The kids were supposed to have school Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday morning this week. So far they have missed the first three. I guess they're getting a regular-length Christmas break after all! It's just too bad that they're missing all the parties.

In the late afternoon we finally got up the gumption to go out again. We took the sled, and at first I didn't take my camera because it was getting so dark, but then I changed my mind. My husband had thoughtfully plowed the driveway earlier in the day, allowing us to get out.

It was Emma's first time on a sled, and little Desert Girl didn't quite know what to think.

It didn't help that I dumped her out about six times on our walk. It wasn't too easy for her to keep her balance, and the ground wasn't exactly level everywhere. But she's tough, and I think she enjoyed the experience overall.

While we were walking, we found my husband busy with the backhoe. It's nice that he's handy that way!

He was clearing in front of the ambulance shed. Hopefully that will ensure that no ambulances will be needed.

Our forecast is for the snow to end and temperatures to get warmer, so we'll be sloshing around for a few days. This is the most snow we've gotten in the valley all at one time in many years. Down south they're experiencing major flooding, so I'm not sure what is worse.

Good luck to everyone who is traveling and has tough weather to complicate matters.

Gingerbread House

We've been away for a bit, but before we get into those photos, here are some others more keeping with the Christmas theme. I've never made a gingerbread house before, so when one of our friends suggested a gingerbread house making party, that sounded like a lot of fun. It was held out at the Border Inn, which had the extra advantage that I wouldn't have to cook that night.

My husband volunteered to help with construction, which left me free to take photos.

They had plenty of ingredients to personalize their gingerbread houses. Ingredient was a new word for Desert Boy, and now he asks what the ingredients are for everything.

And I do mean everything.

Yesterday he wanted to know what the ingredients were for milk. That was a little tricky to answer.

And two days ago he wanted to know what the ingredients were for snow. I told him water and cold. My husband said two hydrogen atoms and one oxygen, and then wanted to know if we should get a wall-sized copy of the periodic table for Desert Boy's room. I told him no.

The party was well-attended, with creativity (and sugar) freely-flowing.

Desert Boy and Daddy had the walls up and were ready for the roof.

Ashley and Aron sat across from us and made a cute house.

Desert Boy's gingerbread house started with symmetrical decorations.

The other houses were progressing nicely.

Even adults were getting in on the action.

Place that candy in just the right place!

I liked this unique gingerbread house.

Chandra had a neat chimney and fence for her daughter's gingerbread house. Wait--where's her daughter?

Nearby, watching!

When I got back to Desert Boy's house, I found that he had added a backyard and more decorations.

Then he went to work on making some shrubs.

The happy boy and his house. He wasn't quite finished, but fairly close.

People kept arriving to make their houses. Arlene gave it a try.

The table of finished houses. It was a good night! And the best part about gingerbread houses is that the fun isn't only the night you make them, but also the days afterwards when you eat them!