It's odd how isolating living at the end of a road can make you feel.
For those of you reading this (thank you very much) who aren't familiar with Valdez, let me give you a little perspective. Our little town of 4,000 sits at the southern end of the Richardson Highway. There is no other road to here. The closest cities are Anchorage and Fairbanks, 300 and 350 miles away, respectively. We are serviced by one small airline whose ability to actually fly to and from Anchorage is extremely dependent on weather conditions. The Alaska Marine Highway provides ferry service to two other tiny towns (only one of which has a road to it), I think a couple of times a week in the winter. That's it. Your only ways in or out of town.
We have been enjoying just-above-freezing weather and torrential downpours for the past couple of weeks. The information I've been able to find indicates we've had about seven inches of rain in the past 60 hours. Flights have been canceled more often than not. Avalanches have been sliding everywhere on our steep 5-6,000+ foot mountains. This afternoon, at least three slid and blocked the highway. Here's what the National Weather Service had to say about the situation:
Important heads up for fellow Alaskans that travel near Valdez, Alaska... Our partners at the Alaska Department of Transportation & Public Facilities have notified us that numerous large avalanches have occurred in Thompson Pass along the Richardson Highway. The largest of these avalanches is reported at Mile 16 and the mass of snow on the roadway is estimated to be at least 30 feet deep and 200 yards wide. The current rainfall has dammed up the river, flooding the roadway near Milepost 17 with reports of the water levels currently over the roadway signs along the road. A Flash Flood Watch is now in effect until 10 PM this evening from Keystone to Milepost 5 of the Richardson Highway. Thompson Pass will remain closed from Milepost 12 to Milepost 64 for at least 24 hours. For further road information see: http://511.alaska.gov And for the latest weather conditions see: www.weather.gov/Anchorage.
Neighborhoods (not mine, thankfully) have undergone voluntary evacuations due to the flooding hazard. When I stopped by the grocery store this afternoon, they were out of milk and eggs (at the very least), and were bringing a pallet of toilet paper up the front of the store. Clearly my fellow townspeople were in emergency mode.
As we drove home, Rowan asked me if we'd be able to fly out right then if we wanted to. I said, "No." At that point, the fog bank by the airport looked too low and thick. She noted that the middle school girls volleyball players had commented on the rough weather when they took the ferry to Cordova for this weekend's games.
While I'm grateful we're in no danger here at Casa Miller, either from flood waters or hunger, it's still a little odd, even eerie, to know you can't go anywhere if you need to. After living in Kaltag, a tiny village on the Yukon River, I vowed I'd never live anywhere off the road system ever again. On days like today, I'm not sure how successful I've been.
When the highway is finally open, I may have to take a drive just because I can. Until then, I think I'll curl up with a strong drink and a good book.
