Posts Tagged ‘high winds’
As Advertised
Warnings were showing up everywhere we looked Monday night, indicating a severe thunderstorm was heading for our location. I had a news station on the television with a meteorologist struggling to find new and different ways to say the same thing over and over about the impending threat, and a livestream of storm chasers on my laptop with constantly refreshing Doppler scan radar images of the Minneapolis and St. Paul metro area.
Possible winds as high as 70 mph were coming our way. It was dark outside, so we couldn’t see it when it hit, but we could hear it. At one point, Cyndie and I looked at each other and acknowledged we had just heard something big coming down.
Before we’d even left the house yesterday morning, we could see the crazy number of leaves stuck to the back deck and the front steps. There were an almost equal number of small and medium-sized branches on the ground everywhere we looked.
It didn’t take long to reach the largest chunk of a tree that snapped and crashed to the ground in the woods near our house.
We could hear the sound of a chainsaw coming from a neighboring property. I prepared myself for the possibility of finding a big tree that had come down. Instead, we just encountered a shocking number of fallen branches beneath every tree.
There was a significant number of willow branches both under the tree and scattered across the driveway.
When I got around to mowing, it required a lot of extra cleanup effort around trees.
The debris on the ground from this storm was greater than any prior event we’ve seen in our 13 years here. I consider it a blessing that we did not lose any large trees in their entirety. The rain gauges captured just over an inch of precipitation, so we escaped any ill effects of flash flooding.
Probably the most satisfying fact we can feel happy about is that the shade sail shows no signs of any damage. That was one heck of a test of its ability to remain up during periods of heavy winds.
In the afternoon, we heard another chainsaw being used by a neighbor on the other side of us. It occurred to me that we should have taken a little drive to see the extent of tree damage around our township.
The warnings we received were accurate. The damaging winds that had been advertised arrived and delivered.
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Risking It
Why did we take the risk of leaving the canopy up in the high winds of the last two days? Multiple things contributed to that decision. Admittedly, the shade sail manufacturers all caution that their sails should be taken down in high wind or heavy snow conditions, so that seems like a logical and prudent thing to do.
One problem I have with that philosophy is determining what the measure of wind is that would trigger bringing down the sail. If I wanted to get precise about it, I could mount a wind speed gauge on one of the posts and have it trigger an alert at some safe level that would give me time to get down to the paddocks. One obvious shortfall is that I would need to be home to do something about it at the time.
I have been swayed away from being that obsessive about it by hearing from other people who have shade sails and paying attention to sails that exist in commercial settings. Our farrier told us she NEVER takes her shade sail down. In winter, she just knocks the accumulated snow off it to keep it from getting stretched out. Of course, if I choose to go that route, I would need to be home during snow events.
Yesterday’s high wind gusts seemed like a chance to watch for possible weaknesses in our post installation. I stood beneath the canopy as it was being buffeted up and down, and could hear where the braces creaked against the pressure. I’m very pleased to find that there was no indication of movement at the ground level of each post where the soil had been packed against the wood.
Having survived the gusts yesterday, I’m less worried about winds on an average day. One factor that’s harder to pin down is how much of a difference the stresses might be depending on which direction the wind is coming from. That spot is somewhat tucked away from direct exposure in every direction, so high wind at the house doesn’t necessarily translate to high wind below the barn.
After a few days of walking around the property and getting a variety of views of the structure we erected, I will be talking with Justin about making some minor adjustments to the geometry. He did all the calculating to determine our heights and take into account the slight slope that puts things at different levels. I want to discuss deviating from the calculated level a little bit to compensate for the visual appearance to the naked eye, with the ground as reference.
We are particularly thrilled with the lack of any negative reaction from the horses to this flapping new distraction in their midst.
It’s a risk, but we will never know what the limits truly are until we pass them. If a tornado strikes, we will lose a lot more than this canopy. Short of facing that level of calamity, I’m comfortable waiting to see how the whole setup withstands the usual variety of weather conditions we experience.
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Awaiting Winds
A day or two ago, we were on alert for another dump of snow from a winter storm the Weather Channel has named “Nyla” that will pass over us today. As of last night, the forecast was adjusted to most likely not produce blockbuster amounts of snow but will be noteworthy for its strong winds.
I am not a fan of high winds.
Yesterday, Asher and I took full advantage of the calm before the storm and lounged against the hay shed to watch the horses and listen to the pheasant squawks and the honks of low-flying goose pairs in the filtered sunlight shining through thin clouds.
Tucked up against the nook of the shed doors, the breeze was minimal, and we were able to bask in the radiating solar energy absorbed by the metal. When you know that the following day will be dramatically less inviting for such leisurely pursuits, the value of moments like that becomes noticeably heightened.
I always wonder if the horses have any inkling of the change coming our way. I try to warn them, but I suspect they are disinclined to pay much heed to my bantering.
Yesterday afternoon, when I showed up to start my routine with cleaning up under the overhang, Swings made a rare approach to my immediate space. I greeted her and carried on with my tasks. When she twice followed my movements and then finally rubbed her entire side firmly against a hay bag as she passed it, I got the message.
I set down the manure scoop and gave her a full-body scratching and loving massages. It is one of the more precious moments with these mares since they hardly ever show interest in receiving prolonged touch from us. I was also grateful to the other three for allowing us the uninterrupted time together. That is also a rare occurrence that one of them doesn’t want to nose in on another horse getting special attention.
On one of my walks with Asher earlier in the day, I took a picture that captures the orientation of all of our buildings, although the house is still mostly obscured behind trees.
It shows how the hay shed doors capture the sunlight. You can see how the barn is positioned so the overhang is protected from winds out of the northwest, both from its orientation and the fact it is tucked beneath higher ground behind it with plenty of tall trees providing additional windbreak. Just above the roofline of the hay shed is the shop garage. Uphill from that garage and directly behind the barn from this vantage point is where our house is located.
Here’s hoping no trees suffer damage from any accumulation of snow that will add stress to the pressure of the harsh winds blowing our way today.
Hang on to your hats when you’re reading this!
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Weather Pummeling
Our region took a pummeling from Momma Nature yesterday with high winds pushing some heavy rain sideways. I was on an errand to Baldwin to seek advice from my tractor dealership and pulled over to capture some photos of the wild sky.
With winds gusting into the 40s (mph), the bottom of the cloud cover was getting whipped into undulating waves.
Knowing it was past due time to change the engine oil of the New Holland diesel tractor, I pulled the manual to check other recommended periodic maintenance. I quickly felt overwhelmed by the list of tasks I had no knowledge or experience doing.
It didn’t take long for the Service Manager to convince me to spend some of my savings and have them do the dirty work. He had me at, “We have time to start on it early next week.”
On the way home, I stopped off to take advantage of ‘Discount Tuesday’ at the movie theater to see the four military-embedded journalists race against time to reach DC in the 2024 film, “Civil War.” I sure hope that version of a possible future for the country remains a fabrication for film and has no relationship with an eventual reality.
I returned home in the nick of time to help Cyndie tend to the horses amid the rain and wicked gales. Being immersed in the fictional world for a couple of hours had me rather disoriented in coping with the wild conditions that were turning feeding time into something of a circus that seemed to fit well with the on-screen chaos I’d just consumed.
Cyndie reported some new chaos across one of our trails through the woods.
If that is the only tree that topples under these conditions, I will be surprised. By dinner time last night, we had received over an inch of rain as measured in the gauges Cyndie remembered to put out earlier in the day.
Our soils are saturated and that makes high-wind days that much more effective at tipping tall trees.
One blessing we thoroughly appreciate is that Asher demonstrates zero stress over lightning and thunder. That’s not something I taught him. He showed up with that trait. I need to remember that gift alone should earn him a pass on other behaviors of his I find myself regretting.
Our dog staying calm during a pummeling storm contributes greatly to our quality of life.
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Busted Tree
In my post on Sunday, I mentioned it was windy over the weekend. Yesterday morning, I found a small dead tree had tipped across one of our trails. Later in the afternoon, we discovered a larger tree had busted off on a different trail. High winds tend to bring down more than just small branches around our property.
Maybe the portion of the trunk that had been chewed up by some scavenger became the weak spot, as it snapped off right in the middle of that gaping wound. Regardless, the upper portion is caught in other trees and will need to be dealt with using the chainsaw.
There are currently four other trees in our woods, one smaller and two larger, that are similarly hung up. I have multiple opportunities to practice using the knowledge I gained watching professionals bring down much larger “widow-makers.”
Our “vertical firewood storage” is looking to be cut up and split, whether I want to do it right now or not.
Overnight Sunday we were visited by a little thunder and lightning along with what sounded like decent rainfall on the roof and skylight. Yesterday morning it was hard to tell any precipitation had fallen by the looks of things on the ground. Luckily, by evening the precipitation on the radar looked much more widespread with a potential of extended duration.
By dinnertime, the deck was actually wet from falling rain. Cyndie successfully got a rain cover on Mia to give her an edge in fending off a chill overnight. It would be just great if gentle rain like we were getting would last for several days.
That would give me more justification for putting off the chainsaw challenge I’m not fired up to tackle.
We have a plan in mind to do some much easier chainsawing behind Cyndie’s perennial garden where we found an eight-foot oak tree that is being smothered by junk trees. Actually, they are more like overgrown bushes than they are trees. In cutting down those nuisances we’ll open a lane behind the garden to continue the last distance for our perimeter trail along our property border.
The length from the west end of the north loop trail to behind the shop garage is so congested with wild growth that we have just taken to the driveway over the last ten years. Clearing that section will be a lot of work but I’ve wanted to create a path there for a long time, so it will be a very rewarding effort for me.
Not that bringing down busted widow-makers and cutting them up isn’t rewarding. Opening up a trail though, offers endless appreciation ever after with each successive stroll.
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Wind Blown
If this weren’t a time when the obvious effects of global warming were well known I might think the local weather was some sort of plot by the universe to drive me insane. The dramatic swings between too warm and bitterly cold in a matter of hours every other day is crazy making.
After a biting cold 0°F start to the day, yesterday’s high temperature climbed to 36°F under a hazy sky, but the short-lived meltdown was obscured by the sudden arrival of gale force winds that audibly flexed the integrity of our log home. The gusts whipped in a hasty change of temperature that dropped us to 7 degrees below zero this morning.
Thankfully, the wind has stopped, for now, and the sun is out, bathing the horses in its relative warmth. The forecast for tonight suggests a return of breezy conditions and tomorrow, a high of 43°F.
Freezing and thawing at this rate at this point in winter is harsh.
During the morning feeding yesterday, I heard a strange noise all of a sudden on the roof of the barn. Looking out the door revealed a downburst of what I call “Dippin’ Dots®” snow, which seemed unlikely at the cold temperature.
It looks similar to styrofoam.
The wind was sweeping off any flakes that hadn’t melted into the general mass of our snowpack and leaving much of the “dots” behind.
Coming out of the woods on our walk, Delilah and I stopped to watch the spectacle of dancing “snow-devils” gyrating in the distance across the hayfield where there was no shelter from the hurling wind.
After the evening feeding was complete and the sun was getting low in the sky, we were eager to get back to the house and out of the wind for the day.
Thankfully, Delilah is keen enough to not require a walk when it is time for a bedtime potty break. We stepped out the door, she squats to pee, and we are back inside before there is time to feel abused by the wind.
As the planet warms, the local weather seems to grow increasingly bizarre. It has me wondering what weirdness might be unleashed come spring.
Gale force winds, maybe?
I guess that wouldn’t be all that bizarre. Maybe it will be exceedingly perfect and usual. That would definitely seem strange.
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Double Duty
This is becoming an all too frequent unwelcome occurrence. We had another tree succumb to high winds. This time it wasn’t in the woods, but right along the driveway during last Wednesday’s storm. When the look of winter arrived with a blast of 8 inches of heavy, wet blowing snow, it forced us into the double duty of cutting up the big pine across the driveway before I could plow.
Wind gusts were reaching 40 mph which turned out to be too much for the roots to hold that big beast.
Cyndie asked if we should use it for this year’s Christmas tree. I probably did a poor job of hiding my exasperation when I said she could if she was able to lift it.
Once we were in the middle of cutting it up and she discovered how big it really was, she understood my reluctance.
After I cut the trunk about halfway up, she pondered taking just the top portion. Again, I said that would be fine if she could lift it, knowing full well it was still too much tree.
Fortunately, the very top had split into two competing leaders, which made it an unappealing option when we reached a size that would be barely manageable.
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I offered her the alternative option of saving boughs for making a wreath or other decorative holiday arrangements. That met with her approval. No sense having all that wonderful pine scent going to waste.
Of course, this being a healthy live tree when it was pushed over, there was plenty of fresh, sticky sap to make a wonderful mess of her gloves and everything else around, including her hair by the time she was done moving things around.
An hour and a half later, I was able to start the plowing process, which was no picnic due to the stickiness of the snow. It kept sticking to the plow blade and hindered the winch’s ability to lift the blade. This being the first snowplowing of the season, I needed to establish an extra width by pushing the edges well past the end of the pavement to allow space for subsequent snow events.
I was moderately successful. We may have an opportunity to test this by tomorrow as we are due to get another comparable blast of wind and snow tonight.
Something tells me this is going to feel like a very long winter. Hopefully, I won’t be facing the double duty of lumberjack and plow driver all at the same time again.
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No Thanks
I wish there was a reason to believe I would never have to endure another storm like this one. It started nice enough, Wednesday, with a reasonable burst of good old garden variety spring snow.
Then the wind started to increase. That makes a big difference in any weather event. Wind takes everything up a few notches of intensity. It continued to snow, and the wind howled intensely, all night long. By morning we had 8 inches piled on the deck railing, in the small section blocked from the harshest gusts.
And harsh, the wind was becoming. The first thing I noticed when I got out of bed was a plastic roof panel on the end of the woodshed was flapping loose. The way the wind was raging, that panel would not last without some intervention.
We stepped out into the heart of the storm and struggled to fashion a quick, makeshift fix with rope and a couple heavy pieces of firewood. Meanwhile, the morning sky was growing darker and darker. I paused to clean the sticky, wind whipped snow on the front steps just as we got our first of several rounds of lightning and thunder.
It was scary to be outside. Actually, it was scary to be inside, too. The precipitation oscillated between snow, rain, sleet, and hail while the raging gales surged to frightening levels of intensity.
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The sunrise and stormy sky created a strange, ominous glow that seemed to color the snow on the ground. Later, we learned that the orange-brown hue was actually Texas dust carried here by high winds.
This was a really big storm.
I fear the extremes we keep experiencing are soon to become the norm.
I wish I could say, no thanks, and just opt out when these inland hurricanes blow, but I don’t think that choice is available.
Feels a bit like living in a Hollywood disaster film.
I don’t recall, do those tend to resolve with happy endings?
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Relative Something 