Winter came early. And while I look forward to powder days as much as anyone, the expedited transition from relatively warm weather to snow was a bit of a downer. The leaves were blown off their branches before autumn had a chance to show off its colors.
To be sure, the Flathead Valley was spared the worst of the most recent storms. In late September, when the National Weather Service predicted a “historic” weekend blizzard, many of us woke up and wondered what all the fuss was about. Yes, it was cold. True, the wind was blowing. But there wasn’t any snow and the power still worked. The forecast, it seemed, was wrong… then the internet broke, followed by cell service.
That Saturday, home alone and with no way to communicate, I wandered down to a Whitefish restaurant to watch football (cable was still up). Soon, a friend, also alone, showed up. Then another one. About an hour went by and the place was packed. It was nice see so many people seeking a human connection after their respective screens froze.
Once the computers and smartphones began functioning again, it became apparent that in the surrounding areas Montanans were dealing with far more than the inability to check their Instagram feed.
The wind had downed trees along the east side of Flathead Lake, temporarily closing MT Highway 35. At Dayton Harbor, at least two sailboats sank. The storm was still bearing down on parts of the region when Gov. Steve Bullock declared a state of emergency.
The numbers were staggering. Forty-eight inches of snow in Browning. Twenty-eight inches in East Glacier. Sixteen inches in Choteau. September snowfall records fell across the state, including in Missoula. Several schools closed in what may have been the earliest snow day ever, according to one superintendent.
It was supposedly a freak early-season event. Except then it came back.
A week later, the temperature dropped again and snow returned. Fall gave way to winter again. I looked out my window and shook my head. Choosing to live my entire life in states with four distinct seasons means I should get to experience four distinct seasons.
Meanwhile, up the road in Spokane, my childhood home saw a record 3.3 inches of snow in one day. It’s already the city’s third-snowiest October on record and there are still two weeks until Halloween. Farther south, in Denver, the temperature plummeted more than 60 degrees in less than 24 hours as a storm barreled in.
Those of us living in the Rocky Mountain region are a resilient bunch. We’re accustomed to embracing the elements. Case in point: last week’s Montana Class AA state golf championship at Meadow Lark Country Club in Great Falls. Videos and photographs from competition went viral because of, you guessed it, lousy weather.
In addition to overcoming the pressure of competing for a state title, these golfers had to putt on greens covered in snow. Golf Digest picked up the story and headlined it: “Montana played its golf state championship in snow because the players there are tougher than you.”
They are. Cooper Knarr, whose Bozeman Hawks won the title, told 406mtsports.com, “Honestly, my ball flight wasn’t affected that much by the snow. I stuck with what I was doing well, but putting was a struggle.”
Tough kid. I bet he would still rather be golfing under the sun.