Life in Maine

Recently, I had to opportunity to participate in this sport at a friend's house. In order to become a member of this elite roof shoveling team, you had to have the poor sense to volunteer to show up for the event. Denise and I were assigned to the "ground crew," which suited her just fine but ticked me off no end. As someone who climbs frozen waterfalls for fun, the idea of sticking to the terra firma while having snow periodically poured down the back of my neck was a far cry from what I thought I had signed up for.

Alas, since the ground crew was only responsible for clearing the walkways and porch of the relocated roof snow, we ran out of shoveling opportunities well before the roof crew had finished their efforts. Ignoring the wishes of the team captain, I snuck up the ladder and onto the roof, where I joined the three other "roofers" in their quest to clear the foot+ of snow off the back side of the roof.

Key to becoming a successful roof shoveler is to live through the experience. Shoveling snow on slanted surface can be a bit "slick," especially when there is ice underlying the snow. It is a delicate dance between man (and woman) and snow-covered shingles. Those who aren't cut out for it tend to find out quickly (and painfully).

Our team proved to be more than up to the task on this day, completing the course in just over an hour and a half. Tired, but proud, we made our way into the house - thankful to be under the roof rather than on top of it - and collected our reward of hot beef stew and cold beer.

The SUV Slalom

In this event, course preparation is paramount. Today's sport utility vehicles are designed to handle just about anything you can throw at them, so if the course is less than perfect, the challenge just isn't there. So what constitutes a perfect course? Three things: ice, curves, and change in elevation. Having all three of these things in abundance, my driveway could be considered the "Pebble Beach" of SUV slalom courses. Let's listen in on the play-by-play by legendary SUV slalom commentators Vern and Marty:

Vern: Well, Marty, it looks like we have perfect conditions once again. That last snowstorm turned to rain at the end, the plow man scraped the course down to a smooth layer, and then the temperatures plummeted, leaving the course a shimmering, glassy glaze of ice from end-to-end.

Marty: You can say that again, Vern. We couldn't ask for more dangerous conditions. I think we're going to see some really good rides out here today!

Vern: We sure are. And speaking of rides, we're ready to start the competition. First out of the gate today is Greg in his green Ford Explorer. I don't think you can find anyone with more experience on this course, Marty. But as you know, sometimes experience doesn't count for much when the ice takes over.

Marty: That's right, Vern. And I think Greg would be the first to agree with you on that. After all, he was involved in that famous collision two seasons ago when he couldn't get out of the way of the Ford Pickup that careened head-on into his green machine.

Vern: Oh, yes, we all remember that one! It looks like Greg is ready to go. Take it from here, Marty.

Marty: And he's off! This first hill usually doesn't cause too many problems, but it does cause the vehicle to gain speed quickly. He seems to be taking it pretty well. And here comes the first turn. Uh, oh, I think he might be going a bit too fast here!

Vern: I think he's thinking the same thing. It looks like he's attempting to brake, but it doesn't look like it's doing much good.

Marty: No, it isn't, not on this ice. But look at that, he's doing a great job of getting the front end to turn, and the back end is only fishtailing slightly. It looks like he's got this corner under his belt.

Vern: Yep, he pulled out of that pretty well. Now he pulls into the straightaway. There's a huge pine tree at the end of this straightaway, but in all my years covering this event, I've never seen anyone hit it.

Marty: Nope, me neither. I think, as far as that tree is concerned, the danger is more psychological than real. And Greg has no problem pulling past the tree and into the next turn.

Vern: Out of the frying pan and into the fire, Marty. This stretch is by far the most difficult. By now, you've picked up a lot of speed and there are just enough turns in the course to make things interesting. It will be interesting to see how he handles this ice puppy.

Marty: It looks like he's got it completely under control this time, Vern. His experience is really showing...whoa! Look at THAT! He's lost control. He's lost all control!! That vehicle is going where it wants to, Vern. Oh my, this is going to be interesting!!

Vern: Wow! You can see that he's trying to get things under control, but there doesn't seem to be anything he can do at this point!

Marty: He's headed for the snowbank! I don't think he's going to pull this one out! OH MY! Look at THAT! The back end smacked into the snowbank and bounced right out! He's back in control, again. He's made it!

Vern: Unbelievable! Lady Luck was riding with him today.

Marty: That's for sure. You have to wonder how that's going to affect him coming into the hairpin curve. One wrong move here, and you're in no-man's land.

Vern: And the curve is pure ice. I don't know how he's going to pull this off.

Marty: All we can do is watch and see. He's got it half way. Now comes the big turn. Uh-oh, it's starting to look iffy. I don't think he's going to make it. He's heading right for the edge.

Vern: Oh no, the vehicle just isn't turning. I can't watch!

Marty: Oh MY! Look at that! Once again, he's pulled things out. The tip of the vehicle was extended out over the ravine, but at the last second, he straightened things out!

Vern: Impressive! This kid is a real pro. He's home free now - it's just a coast down to the finish from here. My, oh, my, what a run!

Marty: I'll say, Vern. They just don't get any better than that!

Precision Snowplow Passing

For sheer gut-wrenching, white-knuckle entertainment, few events can match that heart-stopper known as precision snowplow passing.

First, let's set the scene. You are driving home from work. It is dark, of course - it seems it's always dark in the winter in Maine, no matter what time of day it is - and the snow is coming down in a blinding, billowing puffs. Ultimately, the plow boys are pretty good about getting the roads cleared, but you are in the thick of things and they haven't been able to keep up with it. The road is a blanket of white, making it difficult, if not impossible, to discern where your lane is. Your headlights illuminate the falling barrage of flakes, creating a mesmerizing kaleidoscope of dancing dots rushing towards your windshield. As you round a bend in the road, cautiously travelling at 35-40 MPH, you suddenly come upon the orange flashing lights of the snowplow.

There is certain comfort getting behind a snowplow in conditions like this. For one thing, you have someone to follow, making navigation in this white wonderland infinitely easier. For another thing, the snowplow is actually plowing the snow off of the road - it doesn't get any "cleaner" than this. So you settle in comfortably behind the snowplow, secure in the knowledge that you'll get home safely - right?

No, of course not. There are two problems with your current situation. One is that you are still about 20 miles from home and the snowplow is travelling about 20 miles per hour. At this rate, you might as well turn around and just stay at work. After a few miles at this snail's pace, your frustration mounts. The second, more pressing problem is that the snowplow, in addition to plowing, is spreading sand on the road. Around these parts, "sand" is a euphemism the DOT gives to the pea-sized and larger pebbles that they toss on the road. Unleashed from their pile, these "grains of sand on steroids" are hell-bent on colliding with your windshield at high speeds. If you've lived in Maine for any amount of time, you have had to replace your windshield, probably more than once. It's a pre-requisite for state citizenship. So given the choice between a slow, safe trip, replete with broken windshield, behind a plow, or risking life and limb passing the beast, your choice is clear. Let the event begin!

Given the potential dangers, precision snowplow passing could be considered an "extreme" sport rather than just another event in the Maine Winter Olympics. After all, get this one wrong, and you could buy yourself a one-way ticket to the emergency room. But we Mainers are a humble lot, not taken to speaking in superlatives, so we'll do what needs to be done and let the results speak for themselves.

We wait until we get to a portion of the road that we think we remember as relatively straight. With luck, there will be no headlights coming from the other direction. We pull to the left, leaving the comfort of the well-plowed road for the snow-covered opposite lane. The snow pulls the car a bit, giving us a momentary feeling of a loss of control. But we have no time to think about that. We accelerate. And while it's probably just an illusion, it seems as if the plow has speeded up as well. Time is running out. The snow fills our headlights. We pull up even with the plow truck. Then we realize that the plow itself is HUGE and sticking out over into our lane. We have to pull over even further, risking a run off into the opposite shoulder of the road, where the snow is even deeper. At last, we get beyond the plow, and make the merge back into our rightful lane. Victorious!

And smack back into the reality of a snowy, slippery road with no taillights to follow.

The No Power Pentathalon

The Big Daddy of all the Maine Winter Olympic sports, the no power pentathalon presents the ultimate challenge to mind, body, and spirit. Unique in the fact that it picks you to compete rather than you choosing to compete in it, the no power pentathalon has been known to bring even the strongest men and women to their knees.

The no power pentathalon has no official starting time and no official ending time. The event occurs whenever Mother Nature sees fit to brew up a wintery concoction that brings down power lines, and trees, and trees on power lines. Unlike the "junior" no power events that occur in other parts of the country, which may last a matter of minutes or, at the most, a few hours, the Maine No Power Pentathalon is counted in terms of days. Shaped by this prolonged lack of electricity, the pentathalon events grow more challenging as the hours pass. Let's look at the quintet of athletic misery that makes up the pentathalon.

One-Flush Follies

Unless you happen to live in a town large enough to have a public water source, you get your water from your own drilled well. The water gets from the well to your faucets through the use of a pump. The pump operates on electricity. No electricity, no pump, no water.

As all savvy potential "No Power Pentathalon" participants have learned, you keep several gallons of drinking water in storage at all time so you are ready for situations like this. What you really can't plan ahead for, though, is the fact that without water you can't flush the toilet. Once the power goes out, you have one flush - the water that is currently stored in the toilet tank.

The objective of the one-flush folly event is to maximize the use of this single flush, taking into account that you have no idea how long the power is going to be out, and understanding that if you don't respect the true gravity of the situation, things are going to get really disgusting really quick.

Pee outside? Absolutely - as often as possible and certainly during the daylight hours when you don't have to worry about slipping on the ice or tripping over downed branches. Hold it until later? Sure - especially if you are heading out to work or the store.

I won't go into any more detail on this event. Suffice it to say that it's a good thing that people burn candles when the electricity goes out, because they not only help illuminate, but help to mask odors as well.

Body Odor Marathon

This even is closely tied to the previous one in that it stems from the same source - no water, no shower. One day without a shower, no big problem. Two days - starts to become a problem. Three days - people won't be shy about telling you it's a problem.

The key to winning this competition is to be creative in your methods to counter-act the problem. Heavy use of deodorants and/or perfume will work for awhile, but ultimately you have to bite the bullet and seek alternate cleansing venues. Going over a friend's house who has power will work in the short term (you'll both agree it gets old after a while). Try the YMCA, or the local health club. Be creative. Remember, jumping in the ocean should only be used as a last resort - after all, you have no way to warm up after doing that.

Frozen Pipe Prevention

No electricity, no heat. Well, no easy, furnace-supplied heat, anyway. In this event, you develop a strategy to keep the house warm using non-traditional methods like kerosene heaters or burning wood. Again, since you have no idea how long the no power pentathalon is going to last, you have to plan your efforts carefully. Sure, you might have enough wood and kerosene for a few days, but what if it lasts longer? And how to you get heat into that corner upstairs bathroom, where the pipes are sure to be the first to freeze?

Seasoned competitors in this event know that the key to winning is to retain the house's existing heat as long as possible. Keep the outside doors closed, of course. Inside, keep the access to any outlying plumbing open so that the inner heat can do it's job as long as possible. Crank the fireplace. Hope that outside temperatures don't become outrageously cold.

If things persist and inside temperatures start to approach the freezing mark, it's time for extreme measures. Buy a propane heater. Or two. The expense will far outweigh the potential expense for fixing burst pipes.

Bored to Near Death

Whether you're one of those that believe TV is the bane of modern society, or that it is the greatest invention of mankind, believe me when I tell you that if it is removed from your rotation of entertainment possibilities, you will miss it. Reading by candlelight or flashlight is exotic at first, but after awhile, your eyes are begging you to quit it. Good, old-fashioned conversation? You don't have that much to talk about, and when all involved are dirty, smelly, and cranky, you probably don't want to hear what anyone else has to say anyway. Board games? Face it, they're really only fun if you have a bunch of people playing, and, even then, they, too, grow boring all too soon.

If you start thinking you are seeing the latest episode of "Friends" after spending a few hours staring at the blank TV screen, it's a pretty good indication that this Olympic event is getting the better of you. Just go to bed - even if it is only 6 o'clock. It's a whole lot warmer under the covers anyway.

Putting Up With Complainers

Perhaps the only thing worse than having to live through the no power pentathalon is having to hear everyone else complain about it. Yes, you've suffered. Yes, you're miserable and cold and dirty and sick of surviving on a diet of slim jims and pretzel sticks. We all are - deal with it!!

Winning the pentathalon is perhaps one of life's most bittersweet victories. For, you see, you can only win by being the last one standing without power. To the victor goes nothing more than the realization of knowing that they have suffered at least a little more than the next person. Earlier this month, nature dealt us with the most severe version of the pentathalon we've encountered in these parts since the infamous ice storm of 1998. Our 24 hours of misery paled in comparison to the 4 1/2 days of uncomfortableness endured by the victors. They didn't celebrate their victory too loudly - they merely reveled in the delight of hearing a toilet flush again.

The Maine Winter Olympics

Synchronized Roof Shoveling