Wildcat Winter

Posted On March 4, 2025

Before I go any further, I fully acknowledge that, at least in terms of pure total snow volume, winter 2025 was far worse for others than it was for us at The Monroe Wildlife Area here outside of Watertown. Several communities throughout New York State, predominantly along the Tug Hill Plateau, are still reeling from the aftermath of nearly 300 inches of snow.

Here at the Monroe hacienda, just off Lake Ontario’s east shore, we somehow managed to escape the worst of it, with what I would guess was just over 100 total snow inches, the bulk of which fell in just two major storms. For us, it was more like the winter of “death by a thousand cuts”. It began snowing in earnest the 1st of December, and other than a brief thaw right after Christmas, it stayed cold and snowed nearly every day, all winter long.

Once it began snowing in earnest, it

JUST. NEVER. STOPPED.

We never saw the mid-winter thaw that we usually get. That made it harder on everyone, including the wildlife.

For me, this year’s wildcat winter slowly buried my north woods boy’s spirit in a series of challenges. The season’s first big storm broke my snowblower. My machine’s throttle cable snapped right in the midst of the worst of it. My wife & I spent the bulk of the weekend shoveling best as we could through the heavy wet snow. I finally broke down and did something I don’t like to do. I asked my neighbor to step in with an assist and lend me his snowblower.

Not knowing how long my own snowblower would be out for repairs, as soon as we dug our driveway clear enough for me to get out, I found a local dealer with one in stock and went out and dropped two grand on a new top of the line 30 inch “King of Snow” Ariens.

That new machine was a beast! It threw snow half a mile. Two weeks later my repaired Toro returned. I kept it as a back-up. I figured it didn’t hurt anything having it for insurance as winter moved forward.

Speaking of beasts, through the first part of winter, our Monroe Wildlife Area was graced by a bobcat. It appeared on our trail cameras once or twice weekly.

We saw it regularly until winter weather descended in earnest shortly after the new year. The last time cams picked it up it was on January 11th. I’m not quite sure where it went, but given what followed, I wish I’d taken mother nature’s hint and gone with it.

From that point forward, daily life was a battle. Not only were we combatting deepening snow, but major ice dams developed off the ends of my roof valleys. As a result, several times weekly my wife and I could be found executing our “bucket brigade”, with me on a ladder and her handing me bucket after bucket of hot water as I cleared tons of ice from our gutters and downspouts.

That became our routine: up at 5am, clear all the snow, take a break and eat breakfast, then break out the roof rake & ladder to clear snow & ice from our roof.

I know ice dams are pretty common, but our house is so well insulated, I couldn’t for the life of me quite understand why I was getting such a dripping melt every night, even when the outdoor temperatures were well below freezing. Then one day I looked up and it dawned on me. We had an old school mercury vapor light, sitting up high right outside our garage door, mounted right under the soffits. For the past 35 years, as nighttime driveway illumination & security, we had always left it on 24/7. A photocell switch turned it on and off automatically at sunrise & sunset.

So, with a constant flow of electricity running to that light, I began wondering: “How hot is the ballast getting on top of that light?” I got up on the ladder and felt it with my hands. Sure enough. It was almost too hot to touch.

All of a sudden, things began making sense. I understood. The heat from that ballast was going up into the soffits, following the roofline up to the peak, and melting the snow on our roof. So, I called our electrician, who confirmed my suspicions, (“Yup, those old school mercury lights are reliable & last almost forever, but they sure do get hot.”)

So, our hardy electrician came over one cold winter morning and replaced it. We now have a just as bright but not nearly as hot LED light in its place. And just to be safe, we no longer leave it on 24/7.

While that appeared to solve the bulk of our mysterious roof snow melt problem going forward, we still had a whole winter’s worth of built-up ice jamming the valleys and gutters coming down off our roof. So, while my wife and I continued our bucket brigade to take maximum advantage of everything remotely resembling the least chance of thaw, we continued clearing the daily snow from our driveway and walks.

Then, in early February, our second major lake effect snow event hit. I broke out “the beast”. On the 2nd or 3rd pass down the driveway, my new machine ground to a halt. Something inside the drive train had broken. I did not know what. The wheels would not turn at all and the clutch didn’t work. So, I dragged it back to the garage and broke out my back-up. Up to that point, I hadn’t been sure I really needed two snowblowers in my garage. Now I’m convinced.

My new machine is under warranty and eventually got fixed. By that time, I was operating on fumes, but didn’t feel like I could complain too loud, because I well knew that folks in communities not far from us had gotten buried far worse.

I’ve never lived anywhere where major winter snow was not a factor. I’ve spent a lot of time this winter contemplating that. My boyhood hometown of Saranac Lake and Watertown, NY are the only two places I’ve lived. One or the other is on any given day the coldest or snowiest place in the lower 48.

I was online chatting with a close friend of mine who grew up with me in SL. He lives in Rochester now. When I shared my snowblowing adventures with him, he said “I’ve never owned or operated a snowblower.” That left me speechless.

My son RJ and his wife now live in southwestern New York State, down near Waverly, NY. He’s had bare grass for a while now and spends his time prepping clover food plots while I’m still looking at six hardened inches of full cover glacier like snow. Recently, I was watching a spring training Mets game on TV. The announcer was talking about the young minor league pitcher making his debut on the mound. One of the comments he made took me aback; “This kid has never seen snow.” He’ll see it soon now, I reckon! The Mets AAA team plays in Syracuse.

I was thinking on all this, mulling the fact that other folks, even folks living IN New York State, never in their lives have dealt with what north woods folks see as routine daily snow. Just as I was contemplating the fact that it is actually possible to live life without spending four months of the year moving snow by the feet, this fishercat showed up on our trail cameras and helped change my frown to a smile.

Fishercats are so cool. We’ve had them out back on our land before, but not very often. I think the last one we had show up on trail cameras was a couple of years ago. One spring while I was out back turkey hunting, I was even fortunate enough to get to sit and watch one for a while. They are gorgeous animals, at one point in time in the United States, nearly hunted and trapped to extinction.

A few interesting facts about fishers that most folks won’t know: Fishers aren’t actually cats. They are a carnivorous mammal more related to martens. Despite their name, fishers aren’t really fishermen. They don’t eat fish. The fishercat’s primary food sources are in fact porcupines and rabbits, both of which we have here in abundance. Fishers are also one of the few mammals that prey on porcupines as a primary food source.

Two other interesting facts about fishers: Though they live on the ground, they are great tree climbers and are one of the few mammals that can go up and down a tree headfirst. I also learned that fishers will sometimes actually prey on bobcats! That gives real insight into just how strong and aggressive they can be. They are definitely a force of nature and while beautiful to watch, not something to mess with.

So, as I sit here watching the snow slowly melt & wondering “What the hell just happened?!?”

The answer is clear.

It was a wildcat winter.

Even if fishercats aren’t really cats.

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Until Our Trails Cross Again:

ADKO