Saranac Lake is a frozen wasteland, seasonally interrupted by brief periods of agreeable weather. Don’t even let the beautiful foliage or the picturesque landscape fool you. You may think the autumn is a beauty to behold (it is true, there is nothing like it), but for those of us who live here, it is only a polite reminder of what we try to deny: This place is the third circle of hell.
When I moved here 10 years ago, winter was a fantastically alien thing to me. Florida lacked winter as far as I could tell, so living in the Adirondack wilderness was a very new experience. Nowadays I get a horrible depressive ache as soon as the snow begins to fall. I can look outside my ice encrusted window and barely make out a melody akin to something Yoyo Ma might play after witnessing some horrible abuse involving small furry animals and his mother.
It is impossible to wake up gracefully when the cold sets in, especially in the early months when it not completely necessary to use heating. Your subconscious begins to make lame excuses for staying within the warm comfort of your own bed, and your body punishes you for ignoring them. Even showering becomes initially unpleasant as you must bear yourself naked to the chill before finally insulating yourself in hot steam and nourishing warm rain. But you must be aware of how long you stay in that state; for most of us, hot water is limited, and you must balance how long to shower and when to use the precious liquid for other things like washing the dishes or laundry. You can imagine how logistically complex all of this can get, especially if you live with others.
Newcomers tend to underestimate the amount of time one loses in preparation for even going outside. One must wear the equivalent of a space suit to walk EVA. Once ready, you are stuffed all around except perhaps the eyes and the nose. It’s as if some horrible cotton/poly and wool made monster has swallowed you whole for your protection. I feel sorry anybody who lives here suffering from claustrophobia. Once outside, the cold poisonous air fills your nostrils and mouth, freezing any bit of mucus that you had errantly forgotten to expel. If you’re wearing a scarf, remember not to wear it too tightly: your own breath moisture will condense and freeze once present enough.
I mentioned furry animals earlier. Perhaps it would be wise to mention the only rule of winter clothing involving pets: If it can’t be clawed up, it will get covered with hair. This is true in any season, but it takes on new meaning in winter. The surface area to which a cat or dog’s hair can be applied explodes into the colder months, which of course somehow increases exposure to pet hair. You could walk to work and carry all the makings of another cat and not know it.
You learn to hate carpeted floors. Between carrying extra animals, you track in road salt which makes floor vacuuming an all day affair. This is depressing and debilitating on cloudy days as you have very little idea of how much time passes during activities. You might accidentally spend more time than necessary compensating for your pets seasonal metabolism.
Perhaps the most interesting thing is that the over all temperature depends on cloud cover or lack there of. The clouds actually insulate the lower atmosphere as well as diffuse sunlight. In effect, the depressing haze of cloud cover makes the air warmer than compared to that felt on a bright cloudless sunny day. If you wake up in the morning to a cloudless sky, remember to leave extra insulated and keep the heat on high: it’s probably below zero out. Being outside in such conditions is probably as close as any terrestrial creature can get to being on the moon.
The Fahrenheit temperature scale becomes very useful here: as it turns out, zero degrees is where brine water freezes. Since its cheap to use salt to thaw the ice encrusted roads, it’s good to know (and see) when it loses it’s effectiveness.
I’m also convinced that since this is the third circle of hell, some lower demon or damned second-rate city planner must have designed the sidewalks. The power lines are driven into the sidewalks in a way where plowing them becomes impossible, forcing pedestrians, like myself, to walk on the shoulder of the road to get to work. Especially snowy months force me closer to the road which of course increases the likelihood of getting run over by a road plow.
Though, sometimes, it doesn’t snow at all. I recall one particular winter in which it took until February for us to have any significant snow fall. It was in the negatives throughout the month of January, but oddly cloudy. The sight of ice deposition, frozen sod and a frozen lake under a cloud covered sky gave me an idea of what modern Chernobyl must look like. It was oddly silent, like every winter, but the lack of snow made it all the eerier.
It’s only early October, but it’s in the air. I can feel it. I dread it. It’s taken way too long to write this, as it will take too long to do anything in the coming months. Tea is already starting to cozy up to me over coffee. I need to cook through my fresh vegetables and learn a few new soup recipes. It’s time to pack away the air conditioner and get used to not seeing my bare feet.
The winter kills you with tranquility, It seems so peaceful yet so severe. One feels like an invalid for having difficulty coping but it’s only natural: we don’t belong here.