FORT KENT, Maine — It’s an established fact that animals in the wild sense shifts in the weather.
They prepare in any number of ways from gathering seeds to flying south to simply hanging it all up and sleeping their way through winter.
Human evolution has taken a somewhat different trajectory that has dulled our internal weather sensing radars and desensitized us to the subtle changes in nature that tell us when storms are looming.
In their stead, we have the National Weather Service, The Weather Channel and the ability to share up-to-the-minute weather information through a myriad of online social media outlets like Facebook and Twitter.
So unless you’ve been cut off from civilization for the past several days, you know what could be shaping up as the storm of the century is bearing down on Maine and you have no excuse to be unprepared.
Looking out my window this pre-storm sunny Monday morning, it’s hard to imagine in 36 or so hours from now I may be out there shoveling, blowing and otherwise moving mounds of snow from one spot to another.
While I am holding out hope this storm will fizzle out before it hits, there is an unsettling unanimity among the weather forecasters that we are looking at double digit amounts of snowfall, high winds and extreme windchills.
Clearly, it’s time to get prepared — just in case they are right.
First on the list — heat. It’s going to get cold, so it’s a good idea to have your heat sources lined up, especially if you are dependent on any that require electricity that could go out at any time during the storm.
My primary heat source is wood and my wood room in the cellar is stuffed full of dry, seasoned wood ready for the woodstove.
In fact, it’s a testament to my level of wood-obsession that we are almost into February and my wood room is still three-quarters full.
Not everyone has the luxury of an indoor wood cache and for those who keep their stash outside, now is the time to lug in a several-day supply, or at least bring some closer to the house and cover it with a good, old fashioned blue tarp.
What if the power does go out?
Here on Rusty Metal Farm there is a generator that kicks on automatically in the event of a power outage, but for those with generators that require manual starts, caution is the key.
Make sure they are in a safe, well-ventilated area. The time to check them to make sure they will start in the first place is now — not when the power goes out.
Which brings me to the general topic of fuel.
Again, the time to top off tractors, snow blowers, generators and fuel cans with gas or diesel is now. Not when you have to slog through several feet of snow.
Since it’s going to be bone chillingly cold, if you are using anything requiring diesel, make darn sure you are getting “winter mix” diesel. It’s also a good idea to dump in a bit of fuel additive with it.
Failure to do so results in gelling — with the diesel fuel actually turning into a sticky, thick glop that plugs fuel filters and renders tractors and trucks powerless.
Been there, done that, and have lovely memories of spending hours with blankets, heat pads and propane heaters thawing the tractor out.
In addition to winter fuel and additives, I also use a small magnetic heater gizmo I can attach to the tractor’s fuel tank, plug in and heat the diesel.
Now that I think about it, I actually spend more time assuring the tractor’s warmth than I do my own.
Like it or not, sooner or later we have to move all that snow, so it’s not a bad idea to take a quick inventory of your snow-removal gear.
Since I am only slightly less obsessive about my shovel supply as I am about my wood supply, here on the farm there are shovels placed in strategic locations near doors, on decks and in the Rusty Metal sled dog yard.
Speaking of shoveling, now is a good time to cast your eyes upward and gauge how much snow is on top of buildings.
Once that variable is pinned down, engage in some snowy calculations to determine, based on individual building structural integrity and anticipated amount of snow, when to arrange for a cadre of roof shovelers.
All that shoveling works up a great appetite, so before the storm hits take stock of what you have on hand, make a list and head into town for supplies.
Not only is this common sense, it’s a great pre-storm social outing since you are likely to run into your friends doing the exact same thing and can trade past snow storm war stories as you peruse the aisles for necessities like popcorn, Oreos, ice cream and toilet paper.
While you’re at it, in between talk of how much snow the storm of ‘78 dumped on you, toss some batteries, candles and bottled water into the cart, just in case.
Ditto any prescription medications that may be running low. Not to mention the over-the-counter painkillers and ibuprofen needed after all that shoveling.
And let’s not forget our furry and feathered friends. I always make sure to have a good supply of cat, dog and bird food on hand lest the little dears run out.
I like everything to be out of my way in the face of anticipated heavy snows.
So I’ll spend a great deal of time playing what I like to call “Three Dimensional Garage Tetras.”
I know all my car, pickup, tractor, snowmobile, ATV, manual snowblower, dog sleds and even the lawn mowers will fit in the garage. It’s just finding the right combination to get them all in there — and back out in the right order when needed.
I also go around picking up anything that can go from object to projectile if laying beneath the snow and sucked into the tractor’s snowblower.
Ever see a three-foot section of two-by-six after it’s gone through a tractor’s snow blower? It’s impressive how far those wood splinters can fly.
Check on your neighbors and family. Are they all set? Is there anyone who can’t make it to the store for whom you can do some shopping? Is there anything or help they may need after the storm blows out?
We are all in this together. This is Maine. We help each other so don’t be afraid to ask for or offer some of that help over a cup of coffee or hot chocolate.
And if all else fails, there are still those options of flying south or curling up for a long, winter’s nap.
