Monsoon Windstorms . . . No Power for Four Days (Climate Change)

The first pole north of Alvernon.
The one behind on the other side of River Road
is metal and gives a sense of scale.

As if moving wasn't stressful enough, we had two particularly powerful monsoon storms with gusts stronger than we had ever seen.

Weather is always big news. After the polite "How are you?" — which never intends or elicits a real answer — the most common subject of polite conversation has to be the weather. "Lovely weather, isn't it?" When the weather gets a bit extreme, some of us reflect upon climate.

We are only in our seventeenth year in the Old Pueblo. Witnesses who have spent a lifetime here tell us how monsoon season used to be regular afternoon downpour. Nowadays, the afternoon clouds still gather but only occasionally do we actually get rain. Rain here is typically preceded by a vanguard of strong winds. The two monsoon windstorms we experienced last month are beyond anything we have seen. We are getting less rain overall, but more extreme weather.

A utility pole torn into toothpicks.

We were driving back home to San Simeon on the afternoon of July 17th when the first one hit. There was a big traffic jam on eastbound Skyline Drive. The traffic lights at Campbell Avenue were dark. Power outage. An extremely busy intersection had become a four-way stop. After about a half an hour we got through to Sunrise Drive and saw a half mile of devastation: scores of huge palo verde and mesquite trees broken, some completely uprooted, even saguaros, bus stop benches and commercial pylon signs blown away, and standing street signs twisted and deformed.

The only way to get to our house is via Alvernon Way.* The Finger Rock Wash cuts across Alvernon just north and just south of our street. We tried crossing from the north, turned around, tried crossing from the south, and turned around. The wash was dangerously flooded. So we had dinner at the Tucson Racquet Club and a couple of hours later the flood had receded to become a shallow, debris laden stream. We drove across.

There were ten huge and old wooden poles along this part of Alvernon.
Only part of one was left standing.

We were relieved to find our house still had power, but trees were broken and uprotted all along the way. Not just scores along Sunrise, but hundreds in the Foothills neighborhoods.

Two weeks later, Friday the 28th, the second storm hit. Rain always gets us outside to stare and marvel, but the wind gusts and hail we saw that afternoon were something we had never seen before. At six that evening, the power went out.

Saguaros were broken in two.

The next morning, we drove around. Alvernon by San Simeon used to be lined by ten huge wooden utility poles with wires and cables that ran up the hill from River Road to supply electricity and internet to thousands of residences. The eleventh is a huge metal pole. It remained standing. The ten old wooden poles had all snapped like toothpicks.

We had four days without power. By the first and second day Tucson Electric had restored power to all but thirty-one customers, the thirty-one clustered around our San Simeon Drive where we live at the dead end. We were in the dark until Tuesday afternoon.

At the top of the hill,
the metal utility pole stood its ground.

Inconvenient? People in the neighborhood fled to hotels, stayed with friends, and borrowed generators to keep refrigerators operating. Inconvenient? We are trying to move to our new house as quickly as reasonably possible so we can sell the old. Hell yes, inconvenient. We took a couple of pads and our small television to Dove Mountain and camped on the floor. Thank goodness we already had internet installed.

I read that this year is the hottest in recorded history, courtesy of modern life and our addiction to burning things for fuel. Regardless of the impact on climate, we as a society are unwilling to make changes. We are propelled by "freedom," the profit motive, and vested interests that buy politicians. We are a ship of fools.

Four days later, ten new metal poles.
The cable lines left dangling with a piece of the old wooden pole.

 

 

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* Alvernon sounds very Spanish, but it isn't. No one really knows the origin but there was an Al Vernon working for the developer of these parts.

Crossover Dinner & Calories

Last night we had our first home cooked dinner in our new tract home on Dove Mountain. Our very first dinner was about a month ago, a week or so after we closed the purchase. That was take-out pizza so it doesn't count as home cooked, but it was with family which made the gathering particularly special.

CS Road. We know which house is ours because its garage door opens when we press the remote.

Two days ago, Delivery Doctors brought over our heavy furniture, including our bed. I like the mover's name. It's a local moving company with the slogan, "We deliver everything except babies." We had brought over some frozen Bolognese sauce leftover from San Simeon, so last night Shari made some salad, we boiled some pasta and heated the sauce. Presto! Spaghetti Bolognese! A crossover dinner at CS (our abbreviation for our new street, Chaparral Sage).

Delivery Doctors carrying Shari's elliptical.
Backing up that truck in our driveway was no small feat.

Moving is complicated, confusing, discombobulating, exhausting, stressful, unpredictable and expensive. If the new house is a new build, triple the foregoing. The intended benefits from the move are there, but in the process, one has severe doubts. Simple pleasures, like a home cooked meal, even a crossover one, are significant milestones.

Among other expenses, moving costs calories. Every day for the last five weeks we have been driving one or both cars packed with boxes and small furniture the twenty-five miles from San Simeon to the End of the Universe on Dove Mountain Blvd. That's about a forty-five minute drive one way, which is about what our drive from Whidbey Island to Seattle used to take, assuming no ferry line or traffic (highly unlikely). Or, for those familiar with Seattle, the time it takes to drive from First Hill to South Lake Union.

Over three days we packed a fifteen foot rental truck twice. My god how Shari and Stephen labored to help! Then it was time for Delivery Doctors to do the heavy lifting.

Tom's new profession.
Phase I, getting the CS house habitable.

All that packing and carrying burns calories. Each day I stepped on our bathroom scale, I found I had lost yet another pound. Turns out, moving can be a good way to lose weight. My suspicion was confirmed by the three young men from Delivery Doctors who efficiently and energetically lifted refrigerator, couch, elliptical, stacked washer-dryer, beds, dining tables, and the rest of our heavy items, stuffed and tied them inside a truck too big to negotiate our driveway, then unpacked and positioned them inside our new home. Each of the three is muscular and trim. One admitted he eats seven meals a day

I expect to regain some weight but it may take a good many weeks. There is lots of stuff to move before we move into Phase III, getting San Simeon ready for sale. Phase I was getting CS habitable, a never ending process that takes either a lifetime or another move. In this case, the initial adaptations were garage floor coating, painting some spaces so they don't look institutional, installing window coverings, and a new fridge. Phase II is the move. Phase III by itself will be daunting. We will need a dumpster or two just to get rid of downed branches on our little acre from monsoon winds, an aspect of why we are motivated to make this move: too much to maintain.

Still, eating a spaghetti dinner at home is a step on the endless journey towards normalcy — and probably, towards gaining some weight.