The Icing on the Cake

[ornoth]

Most of us will remember 2021, when Texas’ mismanaged electrical grid suffered near-complete failure due to a series of winter storms. Texas’ 2021 power crisis was the most expensive disaster in state history; 11 million people went without power and between 250 and 700 residents lost their lives.

How many tons of ice can one tree hold?

A world of frozen tears

Ice sickles

The scene outside our cul de sac

Who puts utility lines thru the root ball of a tree?

Our two broken water lines sticking out of the ground

So it’s understandable that locals were shellshocked and traumatized when a heavy winter ice storm fell upon the Texas Hill Country this past week. I too have ominous memories of previous ice storms, specifically the 1998 ice storm that wreaked havoc on an immense swath of Central Maine woodlands.

So when the National Weather Service issued its first warnings about light freezing drizzle, I weighed my options. Although we were adequately stocked, I could go top off our groceries. But I didn’t want to deal with either a frenzied mob scene at the grocery store, nor risk any icy roads, especially the steep descent into our cul de sac. So I chose to just sit tight. That was on Monday January 30, as the first rounds of rain and evening icing began.

Tuesday featured light rain and temperatures above freezing, but a worsening forecast. The NWS ice warnings were expanded to a much larger area, and intensified their language from “light and isolated” to “significant” impact. As evening fell several auto crashes were reported, but the major freeze and rainfall was expected after midnight.

Wednesday February First I woke up to what everyone feared: bent-over trees and slick roads coated with half an inch of ice. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but I knew how dangerous and damaging that much ice would be… Which was driven home when a shade tree in our backyard came down in three separate chunks, barely missing our fiber optic internet line.

We nervously stayed inside and helplessly waited it out. Meanwhile, tens of thousands – nearly a third of Austin – were without power. Fortunately, other than losing that one tree, it was a quiet day for us, without much additional rain or ice accumulation.

But it was a nerve-wracking night. Windswept thunderstorms came through, keeping us awake and adding more water and ice. It was impossible to sleep through rolling thunderclaps and the rifle cracks of huge branches being torn from the surrounding trees.

At 4am I heard activity outside and went to see what was going on. The huge hundred year old live oak that straddled the line between our property and the neighbor’s had toppled over. In the process, it had landed on his Land Rover, blockaded his front door, and ripped up the two water lines to our house and the one next door. Water was jetting a meter or two across our yard and undermining our driveway. Paul – our neighbor – was out there in the pouring rain and darkness with a manhole lifter trying to get at the city’s water shutoff valve. We got that done and retreated to our respective homes to wait for daylight to assess the damage.

That’s how Thursday began. Fortunately, above freezing temperatures allowed me to drive to the still-quiet grocery to pick up two 5-gallon jugs of water plus needed supplies. The neighborhood looked like a war zone, with Valleyside Road closed and trees down everywhere. Paul had lost another sizable tree out back, and a branch was leaning against our power line. As the day warmed, ice began falling off the trees in dangerous chunks. And shortly after my grocery run, a water main break developed on Hart Lane just a couple hundred meters uphill from us.

Everyone came out to do triage, which gave me the opportunity and excuse to meet all our neighbors: Paul, Maureen, Mario, Allison, Gary, and John. All were kind and overflowing with empathy after having helped one another through the 2021 storms. Despite his own power outage and downed trees, our landlord spent much of the day on-site, taking stock and trying to get a plumber out to repair our water pipes.

By evening we still didn’t have water, but the storm was over and everyone was in recovery mode. I was surprised that none of our black walnut trees had come down, but I was more stunned that we never lost internet or power, since those lines come up through the heavily wooded gully behind our house where Dry Creek runs.

After our first restful sleep in days, Friday was a full-on cleanup day. The plumbers arrived at 7:30am and got us reconnected by mid-afternoon. We got our first showers in 3-4 days, but had to later recall the landlord to fix a broken toilet ballcock and valve.

Meanwhile, our landscaper neighbor had a crew trimming back the limbs of the fallen live oak, as another crew took down our fallen tree and the limb that was resting on our power lines. It was, as Inna called it, the day of “dueling chainsaws.”

Outside our neighborhood, things were still dire, with ten percent of the city without electrical service. Battery backed-up traffic lights were running out of power, leaving intersections uncontrolled, while the Austin police – who have had a combative relationship with citizens since the “defund the police” movement – refused to direct traffic.

Saturday the live oak was finally fully cut up. Despite the ongoing noise of chainsaws and gas-powered electric generators, for us it was a blessed day of rest and a return to normality after six days of discomfort and anxiety.

The most lasting impact of the storm was the loss of that great oak, which shaded our driveway and defined the visual appeal of our street. That’s a tragedy.

But on the positive side, everyone seems fine and we had no major damage to contend with. But it sure was a memorable part of our first month here in Austin!