After A Snowstorm

From Friday night through Saturday, we in New York experienced one of the biggest snowstorms we've had in a while.

Now, if you live in a place like Vermont or Montana or the Alps, you might think it's funny that we'd make such a big deal about 30 centimeters (12 inches) of snow.  But city officials and media are expressing gratitude that the storm--which brought winds of up to 110 kph (70 mph) and a low temperature of -12C (10F)-came our way at the start of the weekend.

Because the temperature has remained well below freezing, the snow hasn't melted.  I have to wonder, then, how snow accumulates in the ways and places it does:

I also can't help but to wonder about vehicles parked on the street.  Are they parked with the knowledge of the approaching storm?  Or do people leave them, go and do wherever and whatever, and the weather just happens to turn:

Does anybody make knobby or studded tires for scooters?

The First Day Of Spring (With Or Without Powdered Sugar)

Officially, Spring began at 18:45 EDT  yesterday.  And--you guessed it--snow fell.  

This morning, I went to the store.  I'd left the LeTour parked outside.  She complained that I wouldn't treat a dog that way.  I reminded her that I don't have a dog.  Well, then, your cats she retorted.

OK, so I didn't really talk to the LeTour--or, at least, it didn't talk back.  But it certainly captured the spirit of the beginning of this season:

It's interesting to see where snow collects, and doesn't:

I could just imagine some little bug finding shelter under the arch of that cable.

Cycling is sweet.  If that's the case, are our bikes confections

with or without the powdered sugar?

I know what I'm having for breakfast:  waffles, of course.  

Preserved?

Every generation or so, someone finds a tool or other artifact, a piece of human remains, or even a wooly mammoth encased in ice.

Whenever I have learned of such things, I wondered how those people and creatures and things got themselves cryogenically preserved without the aid of Bird’s Eye.  Did a glacier overtake them from behind?  Did the temperature suddenly drop when they were underdressed?  Or were they buried in snow by some stone proto-plow?

(I read somewhere that Clarence Birdseye came up with the idea of deep-freezing fresh vegetables during an ice-fishing trip in the Yukon.  But I digress.)

I found myself speculating on these frosty aspects of our natural history when I saw a report showing cars encased in ice while parked alongside New York City streets.  Apparently, they were buried in snow plowed off traffic lanes.  Since the weather between snow- and ice-storms hasn’t remained warm enough for long enough for snow to melt, today’s snow is piled on top of last week’s layer, which in turn was dumped on the previous week’s accumulations—which turns to water from the pressure, then freezes.  

If I correctly recall what I learned an ice age ago in the one and only geology course I took, those benighted Buicks and unfortunate Toyotas were caught up in a process identical to the one that forms glaciers.  The difference is, of course, that plows don’t push new snow onto the old:  Instead, the snow that’s turning to ice is blanketed from above.

If we are indeed entering a New Ice Age, will some future hiker of climber find fenders, hubcaps or even whole cars englaciated in the remains of our urban lanes and country roads?  Or will they find tri-spoke wheels and frames that look as if they were designed by Salvador Dali tethered by a rusted Kryptonite lock to the pole of a parking meter encased in an ice cube too big for a glass of artificially colored and sweetened fizzy water?

Through The Snow

By now, I'm sure that you've heard about the snowstorms that blew through this part of the world.   Where I live, in Astoria, the official snowfall total was seven inches (about 18 cm), about the same as what was recorded just across the river in Central Park.  Other nearby locales had a foot (about 30 cm).  

While these nebular accumulations are not exceptional, they are the most we've had in some time. What made this storm particularly harsh were the gale-force winds, which helped to drive the temperature to the lowest level (3F or -16C) we've had in three years.  So, it's not surprising that almost nobody was outside until this morning.  In fact, the only people I saw on bikes were delivering restaurant meals.

Somehow I found myself thinking about people who take multiyear or trans-global bike tours.  Surely they must encounter conditions like these somewhere along the way. Perhaps their bikes end up looking, at least for a while, like this:

From 360 Niseko

 

What The Weather Took And Left

Somewhere in my dim dark past I learned that when glaciers recede, they take away pieces of whatever they covered.


That theory would seem to hold up in light of what I saw this morning:

About two weeks ago, this bike was buried under about two feet of snow:

Now, I'd like to think that the bike had a seat (and post!) when it was parked before the snowstorm.  Although I'm a hardened New Yorker, I'd still rather believe that the seat and seatpost were swept away by retreating snow and ice than to know that they were taken by someone.  

And, just as the backtracking snow and ice cut crevasses and tear chasms into the earth, so did the retreating remnants of this winter's storm rend this vessel of urban transport:

Do we pity the bike or simply attribute what it's endured to the march of history?