Living With Ice & Snow – Lots of It
St Petersburg was originally founded on May 16, 1703, the day Peter The Great threw the first dirt, or more likely muck, over his shoulder on a dank, swampy island at the end of the Neva River. It was a barren, uninhabited, place originally called “Hare Island”, certainly not a place where the aristocratic gentlemen and ladies of the old capital Moscow had any interest in moving to. But when you are the boss you make the rules and the rest is history.
So now it is one of the newest major cities in the world and it is the closest to the North Pole of any of the world’s large, great cities. One would think, that knowing where it lies, yes it does get cold the closer you get to the North Pole even with global warming, someone during the last 300 years might have considered the “Ice Issue”.
Even I, not an engineer, not a climateoligist, not a rocket scientist, just a salesman, after only 1 year of having a house in the cold Rocky Mountains, clearly understood that in the winter ice causes problems. Whether it’s on the roof or on the driveway or on the sidewalk, it is at best inconvenient and at the worse deadly. So why can’t the Russians here in this self proclaimed most advanced urban environment deal with the “Ice Issue”?
You are probably thinking, what is this Potrick complaining about. “A little Ice here and there, it’s nothing to worry about. Have another vodka and chill out”.
I beg to differ. Yesterday, a normal day just like any other in the frozen or thawing north we made a journey to the city center. Yeah I’d heard about “Ice Issues”, but didn’t think too much about it, we have our own problems out here in the burbs.
Daily we deal with our own “Ice Issues”. First it starts with snow, lots of it. Of course snow is not ice; yet anyways. Dark and early every morning our building workers are out shoveling the 20 foot entrance walkway clean as a whistle. When that’s done, there done.
Great work guys! Gets us right out to the sidewalk aua (also used as) street without a worry about any “Ice Issues”, but from there you are on our own. The sidewalks aua streets are a bit risky. It’s there one encounters the out-of-control idiots speeding down our street aua sidewalk who don’t know the difference between a Lada (Russian’s favorite car for those who can’t afford a luxury import) and a snowmobile.
Then there are always the guys that think they are only temporally stuck in the snow & ice. The standard Russian vehicle extraction procedure (I think it comes from the factory with these instructions printed on the dashboard) is;
1-transmission to forward & gun motor to 7000 RPM
2-transmission to reverse & gun motor to 7000 RPM
3-repeat 1 & 2 until
a – vehicle is hopelessly stuck and needs professional help, or
b - vehicle unexpectedly blasts out of the snow/ice impediment endangering any living creature within a 30 meter area
4-if 3-a occurs get vodka and begin celebrating day off from work
So we mostly prefer to use beaten down paths, short cuts, that lead to where ever it is we need to go. But it’s getting out of the street where the next challenge will smack you.
With each run of the plow more snow is pushed and/or piled to the side of the road. The sidewalks aua streets quickly resemble deep, white canyons more than transportation conduits. And so every Russian walker, mostly elderly pensioners like myself too scared to drive in this insane place, during every walk will at some point come face to face with The Wall!
The towering, intimidating Wall of what previously was beautiful, white, fluffy snow is now a hard pile of ice. In your heart you know the risks; slipping, sliding, sprained or broken body parts, or worst of all embarrassment of a fall. It’s a formidable obstacle blocking access to your favorite short cut. But if asked why they try climbing such a dangerous pile of ice the answer is simple: “ it’s there, and the producta store with the best kolbasa and kupusta (sausage & cabbage) is on the other side.”
Cultural Oddity - Every Russian has their favorite short cut to get from point A to Point B. Seems they intuitively know the shortest, fastest, easiest way to get where they are going. If you are later trying to go from A to B and forgot the exact way of the short-cut, don’t, I repeat “DON’T”, ask another Russian how to get to the short cut that you used last time. Every Russian knows best and has their own short cut. You will be forced to listen to the following, in Russian of course: “you are crazy, that is the longest way. Listen!! You must go this way…., forget what that other guy told you, he doesn’t know!!! Understand? Dos Vedanya.”
The old pensioner approaches the high, steep ice barrier and knows there is no faster way. Stops, looks up, takes a deep breath, lifts their cane and flips the toggle on the bottom turning a simple cane into a one-legged ice piton. Now pensioner is ready to go forward as he/she has done so many times before; a wall of ice will never stop a Russian on a shopping mission.
The assent begins; their cataract-crazed eyes search each foothold making sure to avoid an ice trap (an icy foot step covered by a thin layer of new snow). Slowly, carefully they scratch their way to the top. Finally practice and patience win the day, at least this part of the day. The pensioner reaches the summit and is on their way without incident. Of course a little unexpected assistance from a foreigner who happens to be around and isn’t familiar the local code of “don’t help anyone” is always appreciated.
As the trek continues and the day warms up, maybe above freezing, the morning snow turns first to slush, and then to water. The hard packed snow of early morning is now a foot or more of some kind of wet, slushy, cold concrete, which you must walk through. “Are your feet wet yet dear?? I sure like my ugly Columbia boots I bought 5 years ago at Burlington Coat Factory! Here let me give you a hand.”
Yeah it’s a mess, none of the side walks are plowed and you’re not getting any where fast; but don’t worry, another hour it will be 3:00 and the sun and thermometer will head down. Then we’re back into the ice mode where a light layer of dirty snow hiding a solid layer of newly formed ice below. Don’t expect to walk anywhere fast on this stuff either.
Everywhere in the world they have modified infrastructure to accommodate handicapped people in wheelchairs. All the curbs now are little ramps so a wheelchair can easily roll up and down. Like all good intentions there are always unexpected results. During the “Ice Crisis” I have learned that if I don’t want to be come a handicapped invalid for life stay away from the handicapped curb ramps!!!!
What’s the problem you may ask? These things are basically miniature ski jumps with the landing zone in the middle of the oncoming traffic lane. The other day when walking I approached the street curb, stopped as normal to wait for the crossing light, but my forward motion continued! I was sliding forward down the handicap ramp headed for the road! Panic!!! I couldn’t stop and cars were zooming by, especially the ones that were making a turn. Irina stretched out her arm to rescue. Franticly stretching and grabbing I snagged her hand stopping my slid into the street. If her glove had slid off I am sure I would have become another news story “Foreign spy stopped by great, patriotic, hero using his Russian Lada to halt capitalist spy’s escape. Government promises hero a new Mercedes replacing Lada damaged when running over both legs of foreign pig.” Now I approach curbs cautiously and stand way back from these dangerous good intentions.
Finally the door of producta store is in my grip, carefully I pull open the door and enter. BAMB, SPLAT and I’m hitting the floor butt first with back and butt to follow. “What’s going on?” I wonder as I end up in an embarrassing position at the store entry. “What did I forget? There’s no ice in here.” Then looking down I see it. “Ahhhh that #@**!!!#** Russian favorite, Italian tile, slicker than ice when wet. Can’t ever get overconfident here, danger is everywhere.” I think getting up off the floor.
So yesterday we venture into town for Advanced “Ice Crisis” Indoctrination. It was just like taken the watermelon wagon to town. We knew all the survival tricks in the country, but now it was bright lights and big city. A whole new game.
Of course we had heard the news over the last weeks. “2 killed by falling ice”. “Mother narrowly escapes death while and child in carriage is killed”. “Family run down, 3 killed, while walking in street to avoid ice danger”. Famous Moscow entertainer refuses major performance invitation; scared of ice threat – “Only idiots and alcoholics would dare walk in that city” she exclaimed. The headlines just go on and on. I think there have been 100s people killed from ice sickle impalement so far this year.
Of course there are strict regulations about clearing ice off the buildings. But, hey this is Russia. Who obeys any laws and who’s the city ice sickle inspector? I am sure he is spending his corruption money while stamping “OK – pass no dangerous ice sickles here” on the building’s inspection reports.
Last time we were in town didn’t notice any ice danger. “But wait! We were on Netskie Prospect the main boulevard where all the foreigners hang out.” Don’t want any tourists going home with bad impressions or dead; no problems here keep moving.
This time we were in a different part of the city and danger was everywhere!!! There were small 10-20 inch long ice sickles hanging from wires, medium 20-30 inch long ice sickles hanging from balconies and windowsills, and then there were monster ice sickles 3-6 feet long up on the roofs.
“Strange” I thought “this is one of the major shopping and business areas of the city and this is really dangerous.” But of course there were the normal Russian precautions preventing danger and possible injury – little red & white ribbons tied to poles, saw-horses or whatever might hold them up (until the next little breeze) to warn people of a direct drop zone.
Oh and then there are the inventive entrepreneurs seeking sales while mitigating risk who used their computer printer to run off an 8x12 drawing of an upward pointed finger. This I suppose was to tell the potential customer “look up at ice sickles, if not falling come on in, but don’t doddle”. “Boy do I feel safe now! Just don’t look up”
I couldn’t stand it – I looked up while walking along the sidewalk with no warning ribbons. “Oh my….! Irina MOVE TO THE CURB!!! NOW, FAST!!!”
There were small, medium and kinda large ice sickles all over the building we were walking under. “Quickly we must walk single file, you first and I behind about 10 feet.” Learned this in USMC, don’t want one grenade or booby trap taking out 2 guys. “Irina, this way if ice hits one of us the other can call emergency rescue. I hope it doesn’t hit you, cause I’m afraid it would take hours for them to find someone that could understand my Russian”.
The lesser problem, which wasn’t death threatening but would be a major inconvenience, was the closer you walk to the street to avoid the drop zone the more likely you are to get sprayed with slush, slop and street water by speeding cars. But such is life in the Ice Crisis. Oh well we leave in March and just to add to the cheer a friend dropped by last night and told us that the weather in February is forecast to be even colder –25 to –30 degrees F. Just wonderful!
NEAR MISS – Irina’s longtime friends Tamara and her daughter Vicky live in an old building in the old city center. A few days ago a panicked Tamara called and told Irina about Vicky’s near death experience. Tamara is very loving and protective of her only daughter and living relative so she was extremely upset.
The other day, just like every day in the winter Vicky was leaving for work. Just like so many days in the winter the weather was gray, light snow falling, the sun still had a couple of hours before it could be detected above the horizon (you don’t actually see the sun the dark gray sky just takes on a lighter shade of gray), temperature was –5C or so – everything normal. Vicky pushes the interior buzzer to activate the unlocking mechanism on the thick, heavy steel security door, struggles to push it open and starts to take a step outside. As her foot hits the slick, icy pavement a loud Swooooooosssshhing sound is instantly followed by a wind hitting her face. Not more than a foot or two directly in front of Vicky’s face she sees a 4 foot ice sickle coming straight down like a missile out of fuel free-falling from the fifth floor. It hits the ground, and disintegrates with a large Craaaaassssh. Large and small ice sickle cubs, chunks, pieces and other debris fall all around her feet and shaking legs. Quiet then just as quickly returns, only to be broken seconds later by Vicky’s hysterical screaming.
Unable to find the keys with her shaking hands she punches the intercom’s access code paging Mom for help. The receiver at the other end hits the floor as Tamara flies down the 3 floors to her beloved Vicky. Together they manage to get back to the apartment where Vicky collapses for the day and Tamara begins her phone champagne calling city hall to find the party responsible her only daughter’s near death experience and sue for pain and suffering.
Of course Tamar’s actions went nowhere – resistance in Russia is futile!
DIRECT HIT – “Potrick, I want lettuce and tomato salad for dinner tonight!! I miss it!”
“Irina, it’s 5:30 already! If we go to OKey we won’t eat until 8:00 or later. Maybe we could go tomorrow during the first part of the day. Besides we still have some cabbage slaw that we need to finish.” Lettuce and many other specially items can not be purchased in our neighborhood so it requires either walking for 30-45 minutes one-way or catching a minibus to get to the big supermaket in our area, OKey. Not only is the walk/bus kinda a pain the store itself it always packed, and just like HEB, at rush hour it is a veritable mad house. Supermarket shopping is still kind of a novelty and Russians drive their shopping carts about the same as their autos – offensive, reckless and without courtesy. So I wasn’t anxious to make the trip and was happy when Irina agreed to postpone the shopping excursion. Besides it’s right next to the metro and is more convenient to combine our trips.
A little after dinner from Mamula’s bedroom, where Irina and her mother spend their time listening to the news on the radio, I hear “You won’t believe what happened!!! OKey, it’s OKey”
“What’s OK?” I am wondering as I amble towards the news/bed room.
“NOT OK, OKey the supermarket!!! The roof collapsed, lots of people are injured, and some were killed. Just happened this evening a little while ago!!”
“Boy Irina, it’s a good thing we decided to eat cabbage rather than go for the greens. Lets check the TV and see what they may have to say.” Sure enough right about the time we would have been there the roof collapsed in the milk department. Probably would have made it out OK, because we were headed for the veggie department, but one never knows what one may remember they need when one’s eyes survey so many sumptuous temptations lying in easy reach.
Turned out that only one person was killed, but over 30 were injured. Don’t know if the injuries were due to the collapsing roof or by hit and run shopping cart drivers. The collapse was due to snow loading on the roof. According to a worker we later met while he was working at another OKey store they apparently they didn’t want to pay workers to clear off the roof. As Irina reminds me of the old Russian truism – “cheap pays twice”.
So it looks like we now have to double the time it will take to go to a specialty food store. But wait there’s more!!! Soon thereafter we find out that our only good neighborhood store, Oasis, is selling out. No telling when they will shut down or who will take it over. Now we understand why the wine and liquor sales area was converted to household cleaning items. Oh well only a week plus 3 days to go.
