There’s still real weather out there
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas
… except this time the dream is a nightmare.
It’s what put the Donner Party in a parking lot near the summit
of the Sierra Nevada in 1846. It’s what regularly washes away
portions of Florida and the Gulf Coast. It buries us in white stuff
when we don’t want it and leaves Sierra ski resorts basking under
sunny skies in midwinter.
There’s still real weather out there
I’m dreaming of a white Christmas … except this time the dream is a nightmare.
It’s what put the Donner Party in a parking lot near the summit of the Sierra Nevada in 1846. It’s what regularly washes away portions of Florida and the Gulf Coast. It buries us in white stuff when we don’t want it and leaves Sierra ski resorts basking under sunny skies in midwinter.
It’s the weather, and in 2008, with nearly 37 million people living in California, not much has changed. When it comes, things stop. That’s true everywhere.
Our daughters took a short visit with family in central Oregon – Eugene, to be specific over Christmas break.
They left before dawn on Dec. 17 and were scheduled to return to San Jose by 10:20 last Sunday night, Dec. 21.
As anyone who’s ever watched the evening news knows, weather boils up from the Gulf of Alaska this time of year, and depending on the whim of the jet stream, it visits the Pacific Coast.
Well, weather arrived, and airports shut down. Lines grew, and layers of bad news accumulated like winter snow. Severe weather advisories warned against I-5, and high wind warnings just south of the California border sealed the deal. One jackknifed truck in the Siskiyou would leave motorists trapped in their cars for who knows how long, waiting for overworked Highway Patrol to open the way and lend assistance. Greyhound had not shut down, but there was still the Siskiyou question. Amtrak was running – sort of.
It’s always a chancy bet, because Amtrak’s schedule is an ambitious fiction. On Sunday, trains were running at least nine hours late, with further delays promised. No service existed between Seattle and Vancouver, Wash., due to a freight derailment.
While I stayed home, with three or four Internet browsers open, juggling multiple cell phone calls, I felt powerless – when I didn’t feel like an air traffic controller juggling too many tasks at once.
But then I thought of what a marvel all that technology that we too often take for granted is. While both daughters checked in via cell, I was surfing schedules and weather information, keeping family members up-to-date. The person I most felt for was my wife, who was finishing last-minute shopping, and depending mostly on me to keep her in the loop.
Finally, it looked like Amtrak was the solution, delay or no delay. That was until the station agent said the next tickets south out of town would be available at midnight on Dec. 23 – Tuesday.
An uncle generous enough to drive them around soggy Eugene made another suggestion. After spending most of his life in the Northwest, he knows about these things. Next thing, a new plan was hatched: a rental car headed down the coast, leaving the next morning almost certainly safe from snow.
I’m sure our daughters will not appreciate the scenery as much as most travelers. But after admonitions to lay in blankets, food, water, safety flares and flashlights, I’m sure they’ll get through.
It all lacked the drama of those pioneers trapped in winter fastness in 1846, but for us, it was all the reason we needed to track the weather and highway information every few minutes.
White Christmas? Not this year, thanks just the same.
