Maine winters are no joke. For the uninitiated, they can be quite dangerous.
Maine winters can be excruciatingly cold. That cold will sometimes sneak up on a person. Just this year, a few weeks ago, my lady, Laura, and I were walking the Farmington, Maine sidewalks as if it were just another late autumn day, which it was. Actually, I guess you’d still consider today a day in late autumn, even though we’ve been blessed (or perhaps not so blessed for some people in the area) with over 10 inches of snow this past weekend. Beyond the snow, the temperatures, which were a balmy 50° just a few days ago, have plummeted to -4° for the past two nights. Laura and I have lived in western Maine for 10 years, so we’re used to the cold. But what about someone who’s recently arrived in the area? How would they fare? Perhaps what I share below might help them out. I’ll discuss a few experiences Laura and I have had as well as some experiences I’ve heard about from others. Some nuggets of wisdom, if you will.
Winter is an exciting time in northern New England. Locals wait all year for the heat of summer to disappear so they can head back outside to play (northern folk oftentimes don’t enjoy the heat so much). They ski and snowboard, ride snowmobiles, hike around in the snow, ice fish – you name it – Mainers live for freezing weather. While I’ve definitely heard a few of them complain about icy roads and frozen pipes, overall, most of them thrive in the colder weather.
We moved to Maine from Florida in 2013. It was a short six month stint in Florida, yet many of my friends like to call me a Floridian. Before that, it was Connecticut and before that, New York. They tease me, these friends of mine. That’s fine. After 10 years, I’d hope they’ve gotten used to me. I’m actually not so sure they have. Maine’s an interesting place. I once asked one of my native-born friends when people in the area would accept me as one of their own. He replied, “Never.” I actually liked that answer. It means that Mainers are proud of what they’ve got. It’s a good thing.
We arrived in November. The weather was gorgeous. It quickly turned cold and snowy though and for the next few months, feet and feet of snow fell upon us and I swear, for about a month there, the temperatures didn’t rise above 0°. That was the winter of 2013. I’ll never forget it, especially because I didn’t know what to expect. You know, being a Floridian and all. The heating pipes in our home froze and exploded, I used a kerosene heater to warm the interior of our house up and above a chilly 39° (every morning), installed a wood pellet stove – did everything I could to deal with the cold. Anyone else would have run far away. Not us. To us, it was the beginning of a new and very fun adventure.
Many of the friends Laura and I have in the area are senior citizens. They generally range from the ages of 75 to 92. I say 92 because one of our friends is exactly that age. He’s been living in western Maine his entire life and tells me stories of the way things used to be. I love those stories.
The reason I mention these friends of ours is because they’ve got an entirely different perspective on how they think people in our area should survive during the winter, as opposed to the more modern existence so many of us enjoy. Each one owns and operates a wood burning stove. Each one shovels or clears their own driveway. Each one sleeps with lots of blankets and nestles into the cushions of their couch to stay snug. Each one makes do. I once asked one particular woman how she manages through the winter and she replied, “I just do what needs to be done. I do it.” And then she looked at me as if I were crazy for asking. What else was she supposed to do? Not do what needed to be done? I suppose I was expecting some sort of complaint. Something like, “Oh I don’t know. It’s tough to get by.” Not in this case. Actually, it’s not that way in any case I’m aware of.
The friend I speak of lives alone in a lovely farm house up on a hill a few miles from Laura and me. The home and its setting are stunning to look at and if the farm house wasn’t enough, there’s a huge old barn attached to it. Inside the house is an antique wood burning cook stove as well as a fireplace. She purchases firewood from a local dealer and splits the larger pieces to smaller ones on her own. It’s true Maine living and if she were so inclined, she could possibly write a book describing her experiences. Or in today’s world, start a YouTube channel.
Another one of our friends recently turned 80 years young. She relocated from Massachusetts when she was just 15, got married, and started a family. She’s been settled nearby ever since. She’s absolutely astonishing with what she accomplishes and she’s one of the toughest people I’ve had the pleasure of befriending. If I ever want to learn anything about how to get by when the wind is howling and the snow is falling, I’d ask her.
Ted is 92 years old. He’s been a long-time volunteer at the Clearwater Food Pantry and will tell you pretty much anything you’d like to know. I ask him about the nearby homes and local roads and he tells me that those homes haven’t arrived on the scene until recently and that the roads used to be dirt. He lives in a beautiful farmhouse and has been for decades. Just this week, he expressed dismay at how frequently people move from home to home. He said, “When I move into a place, that’s it. I’m staying there forever.” In today’s world, that seems like a unique way of looking at things. It’s nice though. I wish it was still that way.
Simply put, these are some of the toughest and most inspiring people I know. I’ve got tons of respect for them.
To answer the question, how does one survive a bitter cold Maine winter, the answers are straightforward and practical. The first thing to address is the heating system in your home. If you’ve got oil or propane, fine, keep it. But also get a wood stove. Firewood is one of the least expensive fuels to burn and a wood stove comes in handy when the lights go out. Plus, you can cook on most wood stoves. I should know – I do all winter long. Winter’s soup season and I prepare my fair share of soups.
You’ll also need an all-wheel-drive vehicle. I’m not saying you need to go out and buy a pickup truck, but a small hatchback Subaru would be nice. As long as it’s all-wheel-drive, it should be okay. Oftentimes the roads in northern New England aren’t completely cleared after a snowfall and you’ll need the superior traction to get from place to place.
Get used to wool. Wool sweaters are warm and there’s a reason nearly everyone in Scotland wears one (Maine’s European twin – even the land area is almost the same). Sure, you can try an imitation material, but you’ll eventually make your way back to wool. Luckily there are ample second-hand shops in Maine in which you can find stupefying bargains. A friend of mine recently purchased an incredible wool sweater at one for just $15.
Seal any air leaks in your home, buy some plastic covering to put over your leaky windows during the winter months, buy an axe, and get used to reading. In my area, the darkness arrives around 4pm. If it weren’t for my reading, I’d venture to say I might just get bored. Books are friends and Laura and I are lucky to live near the Farmington Public Library and many other libraries that sell their unwanted books at least once per year, sometimes twice. There’s no shortage of books in our home. We purchase boxes of books by the dollar.
If you drive around Maine, you’re likely to see more propane tanks than people. I think oil used to be king when it comes to heating, but oil is falling out of fashion. Besides wood, propane is now king. We’ve got a propane heating unit attached to one of our walls. We don’t use it because of all the wood we burn. It’s there for emergency though and that’s reassuring.
If you’re handy and if you own some land, but yourself a good quality chainsaw. Cut some trees for firewood. Split the wood. Enjoy life. Live the Maine vibe. It’s a good one. One of my favorite pastimes is to cut firewood and split it. It’s alone time to me and I can tell you that there’s nothing quite like perusing the forest for my next tree. And the feeling I get when my firewood is all stacked up, dried out, and ready to burn – well, I guess you wouldn’t believe me unless you experience it yourself. Firewood is stored energy. It’s security and it’s prideful, meaning, it’s something to be proud of – all the work that goes into it. Come to Maine and ask anyone how much firewood they burn each year and you’ll find yourself in a nice long conversation about what they burn, what the guy down the road burns, and what their brother burns. It’s just the way it is and it’s awesome. I love it.
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