Pioneer Spirit

2

April 12, 2024 by Jean

Just when we thought winter was over in Maine, we were visited by a rare April nor’easter with more than a foot of heavy, wet snow, high winds, and widespread electrical power outages. In my rural location, storm-related outages typically last for days rather than hours. And no electricity not only means no lights, no heat, no television and no internet; it also means no running water.

Although I wasn’t looking forward to winter’s return, we had a week’s warning that this storm was coming, and getting ready for a big storm brings out a certain pioneer spirit of self-sufficiency in me. I needed to be ready for two or three days when I would be without electricity or water and when it was likely I would be unable to drive out of my rural dirt road. In the week leading up to the storm, I took advantage of bare ground and some mild spring weather to make a start on spring garden chores before the  garden was once again buried under snow. Then, in the two days before the storm, I started preparing in earnest. I did some errands, including grocery shopping. I baked a loaf of fresh bread and cooked meals with leftovers that could be reheated for dinners during a power outage. I brought in firewood from outside that I could use in my woodstove for heating and cooking.

My house’s big woodstove in the basement, with a chimney coming up through the center of the house provides a pretty good approximation of central heating and makes it possible for me to get through an extended power outage without a generator. On the afternoon before the storm, I lit the stove to let it get warmed up before the electricity went out. I also charged up my e-reader, two battery-operated lights, and my cell phone. I filled containers with fresh drinking water, and I baked apple crisp for desserts.

When I went to bed, snow was just beginning to fall. At about 3:30 a.m., I was awakened by electricity flickering off and on; a few minutes later, it went out for good. By the time daylight came and I got out of bed, I had a plan for how to manage: I stoked the woodstove and then filled a saucepan with water for washing and put it on the stove to heat. I have an old set of three nested mixing bowls that are medium, large, and very large. I filled the two larger bowls with warm water and placed one in the bathroom sink for washing hands and the very large one in the shower to be used for a sponge bath. I realized that the just-around-freezing temperatures that made the snow so heavy and wet, bringing down trees and power lines, were also good temperatures for storing perishable food outdoors, so I opened the refrigerator once, took out all the food I would need for the next two days, and put it in a cooler out on the screened porch.

By mid-morning, I realized that, because the snow had such high water content, I could melt it down. I took my two largest metal pots, packed them full of snow, and put them on the woodstove to melt. I wouldn’t use this snowmelt for drinking, but it was perfect for filling toilet tanks or for washing dishes. When I noticed just how long it took the packed icy snow in those pots to melt, I realized that I could also use it to keep the refrigerator cold; so I emptied the two crisper drawers, packed them with icy snow, and put them back in the refrigerator.

On the afternoon of the second day without electricity, when I learned that Central Maine Power was estimating that our power would be restored by 10 p.m. that evening, I was feeling pretty smug about how well my pioneer spirit of self-sufficiency had carried me through two days without electricity. But when power was restored to most houses around our neighborhood, the five houses on my dirt road remained in the dark.

By the morning of the third day, my pioneer spirit was sagging. Both my cell phone and one of my battery-powered lanterns had run out of charge, and I was just about out of drinking water. I packed up multiple water containers in a backpack, walked over to the house of a neighbor who has a generator and who therefore had partial power and asked if I could fill water containers and plug in my phone and a lantern battery to charge. She was, of course, glad to help. I came home with 4 gallons of fresh water and promised to return later for my charged devices. In the afternoon, I decided to brave the drive out through several inches of icy slush to go the the local library, where I could plug in my computer, recharge it and my e-reader, and access the internet. Our little town library is a lovely port in a storm. Not only was I able to catch up on e-mail, charge devices, and check some things on the internet; I was also able to commiserate with other storm refugees hanging out at the library. And the librarians even served cookies!

I came home with my spirits lifted, especially since the power company was now estimating that our electricity would be restored at 6:30 p.m. I decided to delay cooking dinner until after the power came on. But when 6:30 p.m. came and went without electricity, I checked the company website on my recharged phone, and discovered that they had pushed back their estimated restoration time to 10 p.m. on the following night. I went to bed feeling decidedly grumpy and with my pioneer spirit in tatters.

Lying awake in the early hours of the morning, I no longer felt any confidence in the power company’s estimates of when our electricity would be restored; it seemed wisest to prepare for several more days without power – a discouraging prospect. If I was going to get out of bed and face another day (or two or three) without the modern conveniences that electricity provides, I needed an attitude adjustment! I reminded myself that, for many years, my favorite vacations had been weeks-long camping trips where I slept in a tent, lugged water from a central location to my campsite, and cooked outdoors on a camp stove. Think of this as like a camping trip, I told myself, only more comfortable – camping with a real bed to sleep in and a roof over my head. Having thus reframed the situation from disaster to adventure, I got out of bed with renewed energy, stoked up the woodstove, heated water for washing up, gathered up more icy snow from the front deck for keeping the refrigerator cold, and set about my day.

In the early afternoon, hours before the power company’s latest estimate, I looked out the window to see a bucket truck on my dirt road; and a few minutes after that, the electricity came back on and life returned to a 21st century normal.