You know that feeling of just sliding through a subway or an elevator door that is already closing? The feeling of "Whew, I made it; that was a close one!"
That is how I am feeling about yesterday.
We spent all of last week in the Portland area, visiting family and friends for Christmas. We had a hard time just getting there last weekend, getting stranded in Hood River when I-84 was closed, and then having to detour up and over Mt. Hood. Our time there was filled with much slipping and sliding on very messy and slick roads, much snow shoveling, and much staying at home when we would have otherwise gone out and about. We had a wonderful time, enjoying the most snow Portland has ever seen for Christmas.
We were scheduled to drive home on Saturday, but the forecast did not look good at all. Spokane, Coeur d'Alene, and the mountain passes in Idaho were scheduled to get dumped upon that day. We decided to wait until Sunday, although that didn't look all that great either.
Turns out, our drive home was pretty easy. We had beautiful blue sky until just past Spokane. The roads were wet, but not icy over Fourth of July Pass, and light snow flurries accompanied us over Lookout Pass, but they were no big deal. Rain fell steadily as we entered western Montana, but cleared up before we hit Missoula, and it was smooth sailing from there. Our driveway was fairly treacherous, as the old snow had compacted and was icy, but the third try was a charm and we slipped our way up to the house.
We made a fire in the stove and soon our little house was as cozy as ever. We slept well.
But this is what we woke up to this morning:
At least four inches of fresh powder fell overnight and more continues to fall this morning. The mountain passes are a mess. We made it just in time.
So grateful. It was a great trip, but we are happy to be home again.
Update: Andy is plowing the driveway with the skid steer. Sure beats shoveling.