Winter in Cresco

One of the big things about living in northeast Iowa, and I think I have mentioned this before, is that the winters can be brutally cold. In case you don’t know what I’m talking about when I say “brutally cold,” I am talking temperatures that regularly fall past ten below zero, measured in Fahrenheit. Add in some windchill unimpeded by trees, and you have temperatures comparable to what you might find in Antarctica.

At this point, some snow has fallen, but it’s not the kind of snowfall that really signifies winter is here. It’s more the accumulation of one or two light snowfalls, coupled with the kind of ice that a few alternating temperatures above and below the freezing point can produce. It’s unusual, because by the time the middle of December starts coming up, at least one blizzard, with white-out conditions and enough snow to literally shut down the town has arrived. It’s an adventure when this happens, but it’s not exactly something to look forward to. I’ve ventured out in two blizzards so far, once because I had to get to work and once because I severely underestimated the strength of the snowstorm, and both times have been two driving experiences I am not anxious to repeat. As much as I’d like to regale you with double-fisted stories of what driving in a blizzard is like, there’s not much to tell. Mostly you drive along at speeds under 25 mph, and sometimes even that can feel much too fast when the snow reduces visibility to maybe five feet in front of you. You grip the steering wheel until the blood drains from your fingers, and you feel your car slide along the highway as you fight to keep it in your lane.

On the other hand, if you are a farmer, this why you probably have at least two vehicles that are equally at home plowing through the snow or being used as a mobile base of operations in Afghanistan. It’s easy to tell who the farmers are in Iowa because of their utter nonchalance in winter weather. Worrying about the roads is for people who have vehicles that need to travel on them. I think the only kind of weather that might stop a farmer is a hurricane, and I have to be honest, I can’t really see a farmer worrying that a tornado will pick up one of those monster tractors and move it any appreciable distance. In fact, I can see farmers making safety plans if a tornado does approach. “Get into the tractor!” they’d say, and then practice drills for which child works the accelerator and the brake.

One of the nice parts about winter in Cresco is that the Catholic church has started playing Christmas Carols. It sounds like they are being played on a carillion, and while I suspect that’s probably not true, they’re definitely being played live. It’s one of the all-time greatest things about living where I live. There’s nothing like listening to Christmas carols echoing throughout the town at night. It makes everything seem very, very peaceful.

Now that the crops have been harvested, the deer are a lot more visible. For you hunters reading this, apparently the state of Iowa frowns on the use of high-powered rifles in northeastern Iowa. The firearm of choice is shotgun slugs, which seems to be missing the point to me. After all, you’re hunting for meat, and I would think a shotgun slug would damage quite a bit more of it. Then again, I can see why Iowa doesn’t approve of hunting with a high-powered rifle and scope when you can see a deer coming literally over the horizon. I’ve never hunted with shotgun slugs, but those who I’ve talked with say that it’s like throwing a baseball—you have to take into account the drop in height the further away your target is. Depth perception is a crucial skill when hunting in Iowa.

So that’s winter in Cresco, at least initially. I’ll be honest, I was hoping to have a nice blizzard to talk about, and perhaps get some shots of people wading through the sidewalks up to their knees. On the other hand, if you think for one second I’m going to bemoan the fact that six inches of snow hasn’t made moving outdoors all but impossible, you’re crazy.