February 2025 - On The Mountain

The Moody Month

Every year it happens the same - January ends and I get excited to put the darkest days of the year behind me. The sun comes out, the birds sing, and for a moment the snow begins to melt. My mind goes to starting a garden (VERY excited for this season) wild edibles, and projects. Then, of course, Mother Nature very swiftly reels me back and reminds me who’s boss.

Smiling through the pain, for a moment.

Putting off Cutting in Roads

Temperatures dipped, staying below -20C at night and only sometimes rising during the day. Though we tried to continue clearing an old road we realized we weren’t having any fun. The snow behaved differently underfoot causing me to move clumsily and the frozen branches had a different bite when they whipped around occasionally finding a cheek. It felt like they were leaving welts, so we decided to put aside cutting in the road until the weather improved.

Tasty little doughnuts

A Big Mistake

Staying indoors and having surrendered to the cold weather I figured out how to make doughnuts. What a mistake! In a flash, they were all gone aside from this little one. Though not very photogenic I needed to take a quick picture to prove it really happened, and hopefully as a reminder not to do that again.

The trek back up - Curt’s enthusiasm may, or may not be fuelled by red wine.

Valentine’s Day Trek To Town

The very first winter here we took bird baths in front of the fire. When February came around I craved a shower and - better yet - a bath, so we hiked all the way to town. We stayed at a motel for a couple of nights and gorged at a restaurant before making our way back. Since then a Valentine’s Day hike has become a tradition. We hiked out again and enjoyed a bath and dining out. It’s a nice break from the intense snow and good to get out into ‘the real world’ for a few days.

Usually, town feels much warmer and more like spring by Valentine’s Day, but not this year. It seems everyone is getting a much more intense winter, which since I love winter and the happy chaos and camaraderie it spreads, I’m happy to share.

One reason I love snowmobiling in deep snow - falling off is usually a giggle.

Water Woes

Back in November, we tried to put away 4,000L of water but only ended up with 2,000 after something (most likely a bear) chewed a pipe. That setback in conjunction with early freezing temps made getting more impossible and so, we’ve run out. For the rest of the winter melting snow will be the only means of getting water, which sounds more daunting than it actually is, but does mean fewer showers.

Red Truck Beer did a great job capturing that spruce tip flavour.

Time in a Tree Well

Tree wells are these interesting, fun and oftentimes scary spaces around coniferous trees in deep snow. Most people likely know of them as a danger. I first learned of them on a snowmobiling trip up north, thankfully not firsthand but as a cautionary tale.

When playing around in alpine snow they can easily become a deathtrap. The tree branches prevent snow from getting to the trunk. It seems to be by design, though I don’t really know. As the snow gets deeper and heavier, trees maintain an air gap around their trunk, hence- tree well. If a skier, snowboarder, or even snowmobiler on their huge machine gets too close to a tree in the alpine they fall into the well.

My snow is settling out between 3 and 6 feet which makes for ideal snow/tree forts. All I have to do is jump through the branches and enter the ready-made fort. Once inside I’m protected from the wind (though it sounds incredible, to the likeness of lapping waves) and falling snow. Curt and I both lay in this well for a while, enjoying a beverage.

A month ago the sun was setting to the very left in this picture, now it sets in the right.

The Days Are Getting Longer!

Life felt like it was at a standstill. This winter has been colder on average, making accomplishments difficult. Not impossible, but in a moody ‘I don’t really want to unless I have to’ kind of way. Maybe I was spoiled by last winter a little. My chickens started laying eggs, then stopped again. Though not having eggs is annoying it is a type of validation - I don’t want to work yet and neither do they.

That said, as I write this on the final day Curt found one green egg. The sun is out, and so warm I took off my jacket. For the first time this year, the snow is beginning to rot. March is upon us. I can start planning the greenhouse and dreaming of warmer, busier days. But for now, let’s make the most of our final days of rest before the world comes to life once again.