When the power went out the Saturday night before Christmas, it was, of course, not particularly convenient. I had a project rendering on my computer and was just about to send another one into the queue, when … click, darkness. But however inconvenient, I wasn’t very concerned. We are, after all, living in Canada’s largest city and it’s rare to have an outage that lasts more than a few minutes. So, unperturbed, I took my iPad out, went into the living room, got cozy on the couch and surfed a bit to bide my time until the power came back. Our UPS kept our sever and internet up, so we weren’t cut off. Yet. I then played a rousing game of Plants and Zombies. An hour later, it was still dark, so I finally figured I’d go to bed and just restart the renders in the morning.
The next morning, we discovered that we are in no way ready for an apocalypse.
We awoke to quiet and dimness. There was no sound of a fridge, computer or anything electronic. Light switches did nothing. It was a grey day, so not a lot of light to flood the apartment. We were still without power. And the UPS had used up its power overnight.
Monday, folks were still assessing damage and clearing branches.
A walk down the street, again on Monday as I didn’t venture out on Sunday, showed part of the reason for no bus service in this area for days. Two trees had come down across the road, in close proximity, one falling on a bus shelter, both blocking traffic. A live power line was in the street until shortly before I arrived.
This is going up the hill at the other end of this road on Tuesday. This is a few days after the initial onslaught and after some of the debris has been pulled from the road. Ice is still on the trees.
The woods next door was beautiful but scary. I took a quick walk in, going down a path to the right, but I didn’t linger. Too many crashes of ice and trees to pretend to feel safe. This is a popular place for humans to walk their dogs, but I saw a number of people wisely stop at the gate then turn around. I took a longer walk here the next day.
This is a horizontal shot — the horizon of Lake Ontario can be seen in the distance. Drips didn’t always freeze in a vertical direction.
This is the Guild Inn. I was close by when one of these branches crashed down. It was a scary thing to walk through this area. One minute silence; the next, a loud crash as a branch broke or a breeze in the canopy caused ice to break from limbs.
Looking through a veil of ice at the bluffs along Lake Ontario, a day after the above image. After a few days of ice, snow came.
This was the first sunlight I saw. The sun was low, close to setting, but infused the ice with a beautiful glow before it disappeared.
Usually, I would have had my laptop and iDevices charging overnight so that everything was ready for the next day. The power outage happened at the end of a long day of use, which meant that nothing had close to a full charge. The fellow was in a little better shape. His laptop was fully charged and he had about half a battery charge on his phone, so he was able to surf to find out what we were in for. We discovered that the ice storm had left a swath of damage in its wake, some of which we could see outside our windows by way of broken branches on ice-laden trees. Unlike past storms, most of the people left without power in Ontario this time were in the Toronto area rather than rural parts. Furthermore, because we lived in an area that has many beautiful OLD trees, we were in one of the most heavily affected parts of town. Initially, we heard that we might be without power for 72 hours.
We live in a beautiful part of town that is heavily treed. The trees falling over the fence here are part of the Guild Inn park.
Monday afternoon already showed that emergency cleanup was actively in progress. The live wire that had been laying across the street had been safely pulled off the street and deactivated, some of the trees obstructing the street had been pulled aside or cut. A tree that could have fallen over a house instead fell over a bus shelter.
A large branch lays across the tops of power lines. Hydro crews not only had to contend with trees that had already done damage but were about to do more damage.
Many trees were bowed over power lines.
These folk, like many I saw, were so lucky that the tree fell NOT towards their house.
Sunday wasn’t bad. Our car was in the underground parking, so was trapped; hence, so were we, but the freezing rain was still coming down in a fine mist, emergency services were begging folks to not go out unless it was absolutely necessary, the streets and sidewalks were ice, so better to hibernate for the day.
We took stock. Lots of candles, great, so light in case power wasn’t back on before dark. We pulled out our camping stove and made coffee, spreading the love to some neighbours; we had a hot lunch and dinner and felt lucky. Don’t worry. We had a single burner stove, didn’t use it to heat the place, just to boil water and cook simple things. We were very conscious of potential risks and made sure there was air coming in so we wouldn’t become victims of carbon monoxide.
The apartment didn’t get too cold. The fellow let me work on his computer until it died and he took a neighbour who was beloved of the little old ladies in the building to our car to charge his iPhone, so he could make calls on their behalf as the cell towers permitted. (We have a car iDevice charger, but don’t worry, he didn’t run the engine and didn’t drain the battery.)
Some are blaming hydro crews for not having kept branches and trees next to hydro lines properly maintained. But the only way to have pruned enough to avoid this damage would have been to remove the trees. Normally, these branches would be reaching for the sky rather than drooping so low over the road. Power lines and branches were so heavy with ice that they were sagging very close to the ground making many areas difficult for vehicles to pass.
Far from an uncommon sight: police tape warning traffic to not pass. Here, there is a power line falling across the road and a branch very precariously situated. Emergency services must have done a heck of a lot of triage as they worked through the system – address most immediate danger first.
Some beauty in the chaos.
We still hear the sounds of chainsaws, as the work of cleaning up continues.
This was the second street that was impassable to this truck – power lines were far too low.
Dogs still needed to be walked. For the first few days, very few dared venture into the nearby woods, a popular place to let dogs run, but sidewalks were cleared as best as could be done, so dogs could still be exercised. One had to pay attention to the trees, though.
Sometimes walking on the streets was safer than walking on tree (and ice) lined sidewalks.
As for cell phones? I sent out a couple of texts to people who might have expected to hear from me in some capacity as soon as I realized power might be out for a while. Shortly after, I decided to send out another and there was no signal. The fellow had the same experience and a friend down the hall as well. We all had different carriers. Over the course of the power outage, cell reception was sporadic at best.
There may be tree debris on the lawn, but it’s still Christmas!
The ice looks like it could have been part of Christmas decorations.
A branch is hanging precariously over the street. Every wisp of a breeze caused cracking of branches and breaking of ice. Twigs and shards of ice can be seen on the road.
Because of the suggestion of perhaps being without power for 72 hours or longer, and I didn’t know for how long we would have water, I opted to wash my hair in the cold water still coming out of the tap.
I was able to distract myself a little with my iPad after the laptop died, and my iPod containing audio books had a full charge, as did his iPod full of music. It was too dim to read or paint, which would have been a fun way for me to spend some time.
Then it got dark. Electronic devices were dead. We were fortunate enough that we could make a hot meal, the apartment hadn’t gotten too cold, so we had a lovely dinner (in the circumstances) by candlelight.
Nothing much to do after that but go to bed.
This decorative fir succumbed to the weight of the ice and is being held by the glassy fence. We passed a number of like trees doing a “wave.” Today, the tree is still leaning over the fence, but not nearly so much..
Day 2 of no power began with discovering that the apartment was a little bit colder, the news that power might not resume until the weekend, there was not enough fuel to make coffee and that spare canister we thought we had was nowhere to be found. A neighbour, however, knocked on our door early to greet us with some hot coffee he had picked up while running errands for some of the older people in the building. The parking garage door had been opened! Streets, while full of obstructions to traffic, such as fallen trees and limbs and power lines, could be navigated to head out of the disaster zone and pick up supplies. The fellow checked out 3 Canadian Tires for stove fuel, but everywhere was sold out. Mountain Equipment Co-op had it in stock, so we headed into the downtown part of the city.
Our trip into downtown Toronto was without traffic lights and often dodging felled trees or tree parts.
Hydro crews were always a happy sight. Folks had to be reminded to leave them to do their work rather than distract them with conversation and food and beverages. They were working with power and dangerous ice and tree situations. Then the snow came to add to that. Then the melt happened, causing more ice damage, this time as it fell.
Street lights were out, we had to avoid some fallen tree parts, and we travelled through a surreal crystal landscape. It was beautiful. There was a block here or there which miraculously had power and occasionally a street light would be working, but for the most part, lights were dark until we got to The Beaches. All of a sudden, we were in a different world. No ice, lights everywhere, people walking around, being all normal (well, you know what I mean), with last-minute panic shopping on their minds.
When the sun came out, it was dazzling.
We continued downtown, feeling transported into a different world, and then we were in MEC. There was free hot coffee. Yes, thank you! And, yes, coffee should be expected to be hot, but it’s an important adjective when you are living without heat. We picked up the fuel then found ourselves standing in a horrendously long lineup that wended its way all around the backpack section of the store. Fortunately, they were an efficient lot, so the line that looked overwhelmingly long as we joined it moved very quickly. And it was warm and bright, so we were smiling a lot more than the last-minute Christmas shoppers sharing the line with us. We stopped at a bar on the way home to finish warming up, to feel a little normal, then it was time for the return. We drove east and re-entered the crystal no-man’s land.
The parking garage was once again closed, so we had to park in the outside parking lot — away from the trees, of course.
That night, we found a deck of cards and amused ourselves in old-fashioned ways. (We really need to find the chess and backgammon boards that exist here somewhere before the next brush with an apocalyptic event.)
Then…a hum! The fellow looked quizzically at me. “What’s that?”
“It’s the fridge! Power! Turn on the light switch behind you!”
He did and a wonderful brilliance appeared, turning the many lit candles into inconsequential glows. “Woohoo!” No sooner said then candlelight once again was all that kept us from complete darkness. But now the “no hydro until Saturday” seemed to be more of an outside chance. They were checking on where the points of breakdown in our neighbourhood were, meaning there were active crews in our area.
Beautiful.
But around every corner could be this or worse.
Tuesday arrived with the ability to make coffee thanks to our jaunt into town. It’s the little things, after all, and, again, the apartment was a little cooler than the day before, so the coffee tasted extra special. And…the fellow had to head into work. I tagged along with all my devices and batteries and assorted chargers. I was glad that I had braved the cold water and washed my hair. We passed a few car accidents on the way in – it was still icy, snow had fallen overnight and some folks were in too much of a hurry to consider the driving conditions — what a way to begin the holidays!
We got to our destination safely, and as the fellow did computer sever work, I plugged in everything I could. I recharged 4 camera batteries, 1 laptop, my cell and iPod and almost fully charged 2 iPads before we had to head out. I almost felt human! A bonus: this was a half day at the company, which ended with a big lunch that I was invited to attend along with the fellow. Charged up and a hot lunch not made over a camp stove. Luxury. I also talked to a number of other people who were also without power and it was interesting to hear different strategies for coping.
Roadsides looked beautiful. Looking past the glitter, though, was a lot of devastation. Once everything has settled, a lot of trees will have to be cut down.
Exceeding driving conditions isn’t worth this! This is Dec. 24. I hope whatever the rush was was worth it.
This day, the blanket of cloud cover had disappeared, the sun was out, making the world sparkle, and the temperatures began to drop. By the time we got home, about 3:30, the outside temperature was the lowest it had been since the power went out and was continuing to fall. But as we got closer to home we noticed that streetlights were working! Could it be? The underground parking garage door opened, the elevator came when beckoned, when we opened our door and flipped the light switch, the light obeyed our command … our power was back!
Long, hot showers! Heat! (It actually took our building a couple of days to feel warm again, but knowing that many more were still without power had us feeling very grateful. We knew it wasn’t going to get any colder inside.) A real stove for cooking our Christmas dinner! It was going to be a good evening anyway, but now, it felt decadent.
Furthermore, if the power had not returned and we hadn’t the means to cook dinner, we could have gone down to the Pizza Nova on the corner! While the entire neighbourhood was in blackout, they had a wood stove and were disinclined to allow the weather to dictate that they loose buisiness. Staff who usually took the bus to work cabbed, since the local bus route was closed. They stayed open until it was too dark to work. Of course, folks needed to pay in cash, since electronic payments couldn’t work, but, hey, it was open!
Christmas day began with a beautiful, soft, lazy snowfall, the kind you see in Christmas movies and on cards. Fluffy piles of snowflakes accumulated on top of ice that still hadn’t melted away.
By the time I got outside with my camera, the best of the snowfall had ended. But there was beautiful snow on ice. This was still a dangerous place to walk and I darted between empty spaces in the sky. While one could make the case for “if it was going to fall, it would have already,” there was also the case for, ” branches have now had to hold up many times their weight for a longer period of time.”
Thursday, temperatures became mild again and the big melt began. By the end of the day, I could see no ice remaining on the trees outside my window. This turned out to be a bit of a setback for the hydro crew, as some falling ice took out more lines. The following week, temperatures again plummeted, but at least the ice was gone. Snow? Well, we had some of that, but it was much lighter.
New Year’s Eve still had some city residents being hooked back into the grid. The hydro workers had been working non-stop, with workers coming in from outside the province to help and it still took that long to get the grid back up. It’s not over. There is still massive work to do to clean up the debris, to take down badly damaged trees that won’t last another wind, to remove branches still hanging precariously, and it’s going to be a long while before many trees still standing fully recover from their time covered with ice. I’ve experienced ice storms and freezing rain before, but none that had ever had the ice lasting the day. Walking under and around trees felt like walking through a war zone — full of unpredictable danger. One didn’t know when the next branch was going to fall or when melting ice was going to break off. Often breezes made the branches creak ominously, then one would hear the sound of glass breaking against the pavement. If you think that you would hear a branch break before it fell, allowing you to jump nimbly out of the way, think again. The branches were fighting against the strain of a lot of weight. When they surrendered the battle it wasn’t usually with a groan and gradual release — it was with a loud, sudden crack as the branch plummeted to the ground or tree fell over.
The snowy, icy world turned dry, dead leaves from last summer into things of brilliant colour.
The day before, this tree had been upright. Gulp.
Snow and ice turned branches into delicate-looking lacework.
Each pine needle was encased in ice.
A splash of colour!
A new version of a snow globe?
There was a lot of tree damage in the Guild Inn.
The only thoughts in this fellow’s head seemed to be, “fun!” By the end of that first week, more people were feeling comfortable with walking through the wood trails, though attention was still needed.
Fortunately, winds were calm during the restoration process. I hate to begin to imagine how much more devastating the damage would have been if those heavy, ice-laden trees had also had to contend with winds on top of the weight.
We were lucky that we were only without power for 2 1/2 days, that the building never got too cold, that we were never without hot coffee in the morning, that we weren’t without water or plumbing. There were many who weren’t so lucky — who were in the cold for 12 days! In the largest city in the country.
Some recommendations: always make sure you have cash in your wallet and a full tank of gas; matches and candles in case batteries have run out; some easy to prepare food that doesn’t depend on refrigeration.
The disturbing thing about discovering that we weren’t ready for the apocalypse was that no one else was either, neither the city, nor building managements. Scary thing. Scarier than walking under a canopy of creaking, ice-laden branches.
But the ice was beautiful to behold.
