Showing posts with label Winter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Winter. Show all posts

Saturday, January 1, 2011

Winter Falls

Poor, poor Palmetto tree. For the second year in a row we received a surprise snow storm here in the Columbia area. The snow, a couple of inches at most, mercilessly weighed down the fronds of our not so tropical looking tree. Amazingly it will survive. I, on the other hand, may not.

The kids of course loved it. They were quick to run out the door in the morning. We no longer have all the winter gear we once did when living in the Midwest so the kids went out with what they had. Ainsley was all bundled up whereas Ty didn't even wear a coat - or socks. He was eager to try out the new Keen sandals he got for Christmas. They were actually intended for stomping through streams and creeks in spring, summer, and fall, not a winter snow storm. He lasted all of about ten minutes before realizing his error in judgment. That was sooner than I would have guessed. 
They tried to make a snowman in the front. However, all the dead grass rolled into the snow making for the hairiest balls of snow you have ever seen. He looked shady - like the type of snowman you might expect to find in a dark alley.                                                                                                                                           Tess liked the snow too. She ran around the backyard waiting for someone to throw her a ball. When we were still living in St. Louis our old German Shepard, Cosmo, used to lay out in the snow for hours at a time. Because of an eternally clogged drain we had a large pool of water that would collect in the middle of our driveway. It sat there for weeks at a time freezing, melting, and then refreezing. When the air temperature would venture above 32 degrees Cosmo would lay right in the middle of the frigid water. It's amazing how well adapted to cold weather animals can be. I am not.   

I make it out to be worse than it is, though. I don't really so much hate winter. It's just not my favorite season. I was reminded of why during our nearly week-long visit in St. Louis. In our six days there we never once saw the sun. When we lived there I remember this happening for much of December, January, and February. This was why my favorite day of the year was March 1st -not Christmas, Thanksgiving, or even the first day of summer.  Because in my mind flipping the calendar to March meant the return of the sun and warmer temperatures. Of course this wasn't always true. There were occassional March snowstorms and stretches below freezing. This would drive me mad. I'd bundle up and walk the kids to the zoo all the same but it with a defeated spirit.

Surprisingly Tricia and I got married in winter. December 31st to be exact. Tricia's grandmother warned "No one will come!" 

"That's okay," I assured her. We would be there.

It was on a Tuesday night at 7:00pm and people did show up. It was an unseasonably warm 40 degrees outside and there was no snow. Now each year when we go out to celebrate our anniversary, yesterday was our fourteenth, not only do we have to avoid jacked up New Year's Eve pricing but the weather as well.

This year we decided to make the best of a winter anniversary getaway and visited Asheville, North Carolina. On the drive up we stopped in Brevard to hike out to a couple of waterfalls. Despite the fact that is was in the 50's and dry at home the mountains were chilly and snowy. Not too chilly, though. Always ultra-concerned with packing light, I chose not to bring my hiking boots along. I figured we'd only be out for a couple of miles at most and I could make due with my tennis shoes. It was a mistake. The paths were very snowy and icy and I had to ginger-foot my way through a number of sections. Tricia joked that I was walking like an old man - all hunched over and shuffling my feet a few inches at a time. She, on the other hand, was wearing her earwarmers and could not hear most of what I said to her. "WHAT?" she'd yell when I had said something. We were quite the site I am sure.

The first falls we saw was Hooker Falls. Despite it's name there was no gathering of prostitutes. In fact, we were the only ones there.                                             Hooker Falls constitutes the fourth falls in a short stretch of the Little River. It was really beautiful. While not too tall, maybe twenty feet at most, it more than made up for it's short stature with it's respectable width and massive water flow. The snow and ice wrapped around the falling water making for quite a show. I pulled out my camera, snapped one shot, and the battery died. Luckily I had a second camera. Pulling it from my backpack, I soon found that its battery was dead as well. It's worth pointing out that I quit the Boy Scouts after only a few months. I'll blame that for having come unprepared.

From Hooker Falls we hiked on to see Triple Falls, High Falls, and then Bridal Veil Falls. We had seen the first two in summer conditions so it was fun to have the opportunity to see them in winter. Triple Falls are a series of stair-stacked falls. High Falls is a large-drop falls that, while beautiful to see, doesn't photograph too easily. Bridal Veil Falls, a new one to us, was largely a rock slide.  All-in-all we wound up hiking about six miles for the day.

The next day my mom and the kids came up to join us. We walked around the eclectic shops of Asheville and had a New Year's Dinner at a really cool Indian restaurant. The next morning we woke up early in hopes of finding a few more falls before heading back home. The weather was mild but rainy.  As we pulled off the interstate we made our way along a windy road. I was amazed to see that there was little to no snow given all the snow Tricia and I had seen just two days earlier. We found a very unofficial looking parking pull-off and set off walking across a small grassy field. Within a hundred yards or so we saw our trail branch off to the left into some high grasses and thorny plants.
Our destination was Bradley Falls. Bradley Falls has a very high drop and is seemingly in the middle of nowhere. We hiked and hiked and hiked without seeing a single soul. About half a mile in we came to a creek crossing. While the water was not incredibly high, it was incredibly cold. Fortunately we packed in our sandals which made wading across much easier. A few seconds into my crossing I was surprised to find that the water wasn't nearly as cold as I had anticipated. However, about ten seconds later my perspective had significantly changed. My immersed feet and ankles were so cold I thought I might die (perhaps a slight exaggeration). It was incredibly painful.    

Our trail quickly rose about a hundred feet above the creek and within twenty minutes or so we could hear the roar of the falls below us. We found a side trail that scrambled down the mountain side to a rock overlooking the falls. The rock was scary in that it wasn't all that large and there was no gentle slope down to the falls and creek. Rather, it was a sheer drop off of around sixty or seventy feet. I told the kids they were not allowed to stand and that noone could go near the edge. It was very nerve wracking. Still, Bradley Falls was very cool. It was pretty far away and partially obstructed by a tree so the photography wasn't all that great but being there was. 
The hike back was quick. Just as my mom made her second crossing of the creek in sandals, as the rest of us carefully scrambled across rocks to avoid the water, it began to rain. We hurried back to the van and drove home. As we got closer and closer to home the temperatures soared. It was about 70 degrees at home. Now that's a nice winter temperature!






Saturday, December 11, 2010

Toughing Out the Cold

 Sun rising over the middle school football field outside our classroom window.
(as captured by Maxwell)

Last Wednesday, as we walked in to school from the van, Ainsley looked up and said "Wow, look at the clouds!" I had noticed them too on the drive in. They were tightly grouped together in small mounds across the sky, looking very much like the moguls you see skiers hopping over in the Winter Olympics. In the distance we could see the sun just beginning to rise above the treeline. 

About an hour later my students had made their way into our classroom and were spread about the room playing chess, reading books, and searching the internet for news articles to share. I was working to decorate a CD cover with a small group of kids when Maxwell came over.

"Mr. Hass, did you see the sky?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," I responded.

"Could I get the camera and climb out the window to take a  picture of it?" he asked.

I really wish our classroom had a door because we do quite a lot of climbing in and out of that window. While I've never been told specifically NOT to let the kids crawl out of it, I can't imagine it's encouraged.

"Sure," I said. 

I didn't really expect the photo to turn out. I imagined, if anything, it would be washed out by the sunlight. However, after school I pulled out the camera to see what pictures the kids had taken over the course of the day and I was amazed by the beauty of that first shot. A professional photographer could not have captured it any better.

Later in the day, after working to write songs and make sense of fractions, we cleaned up for recess. Kayla asked if she could bring the camera out and snap some shots of the kids playing and of the ice that sometimes collected here and there. I gave her the green light, most of us grabbed a jacket, and we headed out.

It was cold. There was a day when I would differentiate between "cold" and "South Carolina cold." In St. Louis we had long, long stretches where the high temperature would stay below twenty degrees. It was not uncommon to see the mercury drop below 0 a few times over the course of a winter. So when we moved to South Carolina and saw people bundling up as soon as the temperatures dropped into the low fifties we couldn't help but laugh.

They just seemed to overreact to the slightest change in temperature. At the threat of  snow flurries there would be rumors that school might be canceled. In fact, there were times in those first few years here where school was canceled due to the threat of flurries. Oh, and morning temperatures in the twenties.

In St. Louis I remember taking my class out to recess everyday unless it was raining or the temperatures were sub-zero. Part of this was due to my great hatred of indoor recess. But another reason for going out every day was that as long as you dressed appropriately you were never really all that miserable. Especially when you ran around and played rather than standing in one place to shiver and gripe. 

I had the right clothes, too. I loaded up with a wool vest, cotton coat, and windbreaker jacket. Added to that was a neck gator, stocking hat, and really big mittens outfitted with a wind and moisture blocking sleeve. Throw in a second pair of socks and leather hiking boots and I was sweating bullets until I finally hit the door.

I've noticed, though, that I'm not so careful to dress appropriately now that I live in the south. I still wear shorts a day or two each week and sometimes only come out to recess equipped with a hoodie jacket.  There's ice on the ground and in the pond - a fact that just amazes my students - and it's cold.                                                        
I shake. And shiver. And put my hands in my pocket and gripe to myself.

Why is it soooo cold?
It was seventy degrees like a week and a half ago!
Seriously, I didn't move south to freeze to death. This is ridiculous!

I have a partner in all this. Another teacher who is out to recess with us each day is originally from Texas. He pulls his hood around his face so tight that you can barely see any skin in there at all. He shifts from one foot to the other moaning and complaining. I tell him of the old days when I would have not worn a jacket at all. And the time I braved a port-a-potty toilet seat in 8-degree weather. And the time I ran a half-marathon in a 4-degree snow storm!

But those are all memories now. I no longer laugh at the locals because I've become one of them. Now the new northern transplants can enjoy a good laugh at me. I'm alright with that. 

I know their day will come soon enough.