On playing second fiddle

Mountain locals around here always say “take it easy” in the place of “see you later,” and while during the summer months this seems perfectly appropriate, it becomes harder for anyone to understand the mentality during the winter storms, particularly those that pummeled Placer County this January.

How can you “take it easy” when avalanche warnings dominate the radio, Highway 80 shuts down for 48hours at a time as chain control limits every car to a dicey 25mph, meanwhile 100mph winds knock shingles from your roof like confetti while you watch in the cold and dark because the electricity went down and you don’t have a generator?

Yesterday I spent 4hrs shoveling 5ft of snow from my back deck. As I shoveled, more snow fell. With every load I violently chucked over the side of the deck, wind-whipped snow was thrown everywhere but where I wanted it. And with every shovel-full I found myself realizing what a ridiculous picture I made: a small red blob, emanating frustration and tensing each muscle enveloped in a white whirlwind of Mother Nature, casually flexing a bicep. I was a red solo cup trying to empty the ocean 16oz at a time. Tomorrow a new 2ft would erase my efforts and challenge me to another duel with the sky.

I would never clear the deck, or driveway, or front porch “once and for all.”

We always play second fiddle to the mountains.

19 feet of snow in 17 days. 47 feet of snow by the end of February. And a storm is hitting just now, as March plays its opening overture.

On the surface it feels like icy reality - just another fact of alpine living. You shovel and shovel and shovel from November through May just like you take out the trash. But it also feels a touch like resignation. Resignation to your helplessness in the shadow of the mountains.

Then the storm breaks and a respite arrives with the sunshine. The ice melts and you stop slipping and falling flat on your face every other day and you forget, smiling and convincing yourself of your punch and forgetting your powerlessness.

But before you know it, another storm trumpets its arrival and pummels the Tahoe Basin once again.

Why are we never ready? Is it some kind of joke? More often than not, the best response is a laugh. “Take it easy” becomes less literal and more lifestyle.

You just shrug your shoulders, lace up your snow boots, and start shoveling.

It’s the mark of a mountain man.