Snowy Days

In the Bitterroot

To provide a nice contrast to my shots from Honolulu, I thought I’d put up a few Montana pictures. We had a good winter storm come through the other day, and the snow has been piling up.

But first a couple shots from just before the storm. Garth McBride called up and asked if I wanted to go for a hike.

-Sure. Where shall we go?

-Well, the dogs can’t go too far in the snow. How about Blodgett Canyon Overlook trail?

-Sounds great, should be beautiful today.

The snow was nicely packed and you could walk it with regular hiking boots, or even sneakers if you stayed on the trail.

Buck, the half heeler, half black lab is crazy and won’t sit still for a picture, but Sadie the half beagle, half pit bull will consent to being photographed if there are treats involved.

Relax, I still have my fingers; she’s only half pit bull!

Majestic Blodgett Canyon:

Woof- More biscuits, please.

A couple days later, the big storm hit. It snowed and snowed. Lots of friends and neighbors just stayed home and didn’t plan on plowing or shoveling until the snow would quit, which wasn’t going to happen until the next day. I put on my cross-country skis and went for a ski around the local pastures and farms. I saw a herd of elk at 100 yards. There aren’t many XC skiers around here, and they were wary and stopped in their tracks. When I stopped they began moving away to the north. Then when I moved they stopped again, happy I was on my way I guess.

These horses were less wary and more curious. When the black one in back saw me, he playfully galloped around a bit.

The next day around noon the sun came out. The neighborhoods of Hamilton were lovely in the snow.

As I looked at all the cars stuck under the snow, and driveways not yet plowed, I thought about a neighbor I’d met back when I was house-sitting for Stan Delaney. Just up the road, at the end of a long driveway, was Marina, widowed Russian wife (internet bride) of Billy Farnsworth, rest in peace. Billy died two years ago on an excavation project when a front loader lost traction on a hill. When he died I figured Marina would go back to Russia, but for some reason she has stuck it out here in the Bitterroot, all alone at Billy’s farmhouse. I thought she might be snowed in, so I gave her a call. It was true, she couldn’t get her red Audi out of the garage and down to town to get groceries and stuff. I had plowed her driveway last winter and I offered to do it again, using Billy’s old GMC Yukon in the garage. She was very happy and relieved to hear that. “Oh, Daniel. You will help me? Thank you so much!”

But when I got to her house the Yukon didn’t start. The battery must have been frozen. It wouldn’t even take a jump. I had to take the battery down to Napa to see if it was kaput or not. They put it on a fast charger and said they’d call me. Meanwhile I called Marina and told her she’d have to wait, then I drove up the highway to the church to see if they needed any help. “Well, you can get the snow off the cars so we can drive them out to the school lot when they come to plow.”

-Who is doing the plowing?

-Oh, we’ll hire some local guy.

-I can do it as soon as I get Marina’s truck running and plow her driveway. Can you wait until early evening?

-Sure, we’re not going anywhere.

After clearing snow I did a couple errands in Hamilton then came back to the Napa to pick up the battery. I didn’t need a new one. On the way to Marina’s Pastor John’s right-hand man Kevin Townsend called and said I needn’t come to plow. It was already done.

Dan-Really, who did it?

Kevin-We don’t even know.

D-What?!

K-Yeah, some guy with a skid steer with tracks came and just plowed the whole thing. He did a great job.

-Some random guy just came and did it for free?

-Yeah, he talked to me after he was done but he didn’t say his name or anything. He said he saw our footprints out in the deep snow going out to the cars and figured we were stuck. So he came in with the skid steer and plowed it.

-Wow, nice to have good samaritans like that in the neighborhood!

-Yep.

Two skid steers. First one with wheels. Next one with tracks. (from my walk in Hawaii, not Montana)

I picked up the semi-charged Die Hard battery but it still wouldn’t start the SUV. Marina said she could wait until morning as the creamery where she gets her natural, farm-fresh milk (like back in Smolensk Oblast) was closed already so I plugged in the engine heater and hooked up the charger to get the battery from 68% to 100%. Next morning the GM started and I was able to plow her driveway and lot. She came out the front door with a big smile. “Oh, Daniel. You have save me! Thank you so much. Please come in for coffee and cake!

Dan-Uh, no thank you, Marina. I have to get moving. I promised Lucy Delaney I’d plow her drive and she might be expecting me now.

Marina-Are you sure? She cannot wait?

D-Uhh. Yes, I’m sure. Hey, by the way, can I snap your picture? You look nice out here with the snow.

M-Why you want picture?

D-Oh, nothing special. I have a blog and I’m putting up some winter pics.

M-But my hair. I have not even brush yet today. And I barely have on make up.

D-That’s OK. You look fine.

-And this hat- it is like old sock, without wash.

-No problem

-But let me brush snow off my coat.

-No, just leave it. You’re fine, really.

-Oh, please show me picture before you put on internet! It must be I look, how you say… disgusting!

-Quit worrying about it. It’s just a small-time blog. Nobody cares how anyone looks around here anyway. It’s Montana!

-Well Daniel, OK.

-No, you don’t have to turn toward me. Just keep your feet pointing toward the house, but turn your head this way.

-And look at you?

-Um, yes, please.

-Like this?

-Yes, Marina. That pose might do, actually. Chkjjjjt. Thanks!

I told Marina to go back inside. I said I’d get Billy’s old Yukon back on the charger and close up the garage. When I came to the door to hand her the keys she asked again if wanted coffee.

-No thanks. Oh, by the way, look at your picture here. It’s not so bad.

-Uhh! My hair! I look like babushka who have fight with Siberian bear!

OK, actually that was just a stock pretty Russian girl photo from my archive to use in a story some day. She’s posing on a winter day in Red Square and I figured it might work here. There was no moment of coffee-refusing, Mike Pence-ish level self-restraint. Everything else though, is true. I did indeed do all I wrote, including the plowing, the battery, etc. It just wasn’t lovely Marina I was helping; it was actually 85-year old, stout Wilma Johnson (née Gegenbauer, widow of Hank Johnson), from Germany. It’s just a ploy to get you to read the story of Wilma the Benevolent, in case you haven’t already. Oh yeah, there’s no such Billy Farnsworth dying in a front loader accident. It sounded plausible around here, though.