Late February Deep in the Truckee Snow
The snowpack hit around 200% of median this month, and you can see it from the front door — icicles as long as my arm coming off the eaves, the shrubs by the house just white mounds now. We strapped on snowshoes right at the porch because there was no other way to move. The spaniel found a tunnel through one of the drifts and used it like a hallway, popping out with a face full of powder every time.
After lunch the sun broke through, so we walked the road down toward the river with the sled in tow. She hauled the pink saucer up the same pitch between the pines maybe a dozen times. The little dog stuck to the packed track in his coat, refusing to test the deep stuff after one bad step swallowed him to the ears.
The Truckee itself was still running dark and open, banks piled higher than the railing on the footbridge. Everything else in town is buried.