She had two cords of firewood stacked against the north wall outside. She had flour, beans, coffee, and salt. She had 238 sheep. She had lost two to wolves in late September, as they grazed on the last dry grass before the snow covered everything. And she had doubts.
Thomas Arnison’s words came back to her at night, when the October wind tested the walls and the temperature dropped to -20 degrees. Wool can’t stop such cold. Elias Croft’s verdict echoed in the background. Those who don’t. She had bet everything on an idea no one else believed in. If she was wrong, she would die. It was that simple.
The first snow fell on November 4th. 5 cm, then 10 cm, then 20 cm. The temperature dropped to 10 degrees above zero, then to 0 degrees, then to -5 degrees. Ingrid kept the stove burning, stoking it carefully and measuring the wood by the pound. 8 weeks of fuel, 16 weeks of winter. The calculations hadn’t changed. But something else had.
The cabin was warm. Not hot, not comfortable, but warm, warmer than expected. With the outside temperature of 5 degrees below zero and the stove turned on low to conserve wood, the interior temperature remained at 3 degrees. The walls no longer lost heat. The wind that had penetrated every crack now pressed against 9 centimeters of compressed wool fiber, and the wool held firm. Textiles and Nonwovens
Ingred pressed the palm of her hand against the inside wall. It was cool to the touch, but not cold, not the icy surface of an uninsulated cabin. The fleece had created a barrier between her and the winter outside.
She didn’t celebrate. It was too early, and the real cold hadn’t arrived yet. November was just a prelude. January would be the test.
But for the first time since arriving in Montana, Ingred Torsdaughter allowed herself to think she might survive.
Part 2
Textiles and Nonwovens
November brought more snow. By the 20th, the drifts had settled against the cabin walls to a depth of 4 feet. Ingred dug a path to the woodpile and another to the small barn where he sheltered the sheep at night. He was burning less wood than he’d calculated, perhaps a fifth of a rope a week instead of a quarter. At that rate, his two ropes would last 10 weeks instead of 8. Still a short time, but almost.
On November 22nd, a blizzard hit. The temperature plummeted from 15 degrees above zero to 11 degrees below zero in just six hours. The wind howled through Musselshell Valley at 40 mph, pushing the snow horizontally and piling it into drifts as high as the roofs. Ingrid sealed the door with rags and sat in the center of her cabin, listening to the world outside go crazy.
The walls held. The wool held.
With an outside temperature of 11 degrees below zero, the interior held at 31 degrees. Her bucket of water didn’t freeze.
But the blizzard was just the beginning. She discovered this later, when Thomas Arnison made his way to her cabin on December 1st to make sure she was still alive.
“It’s not the worst,” Thomas said. He was on the doorstep, shaking snow off his boots, his face red and chapped by the wind. She’d lost five sheep in the November blizzard, frozen in place, unable to find shelter. “The real storms come in January. The temperature will drop to -40 degrees, maybe even lower.”
She looked at the walls, at the wool insulation that had saved her until then. Her expression was unreadable. Textiles and Nonwovens
“It’s working,” Ingred said.
For complete cooking times, go to the next page or click the Open button (>), and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
For Complete Cooking STEPS Please Head On Over To Next Page Or Open button (>) and don’t forget to SHARE with your Facebook friends.
