Photographic Evidence

Yes, I have pictures. Lots of them. And they're forthcoming. Thanks for your patience.

Edit (2008/09/15). Here are Hurricane Ike pictures.

A Green, Powerless World

The rest of the day was a strange mix of manual labor (cleaning up), exploration (biking south to my apartment and Rice), and communicating with our extended circle of friends and family (lots of phone calls).

Not in any particular order, we managed to pile all the branches in one place on the lawn, we cleared several storm drains of leaves, and we raked lots and lots of those pesty leaves. Communicating with everyone by phone was a strangely cathartic experience. It's hard to convey the mixed sense of awe and relief that one has coming out of a storm like Ike. It will have to suffice to say that we appreciate the kind thoughts of all our friends and families.

The exploration part of the day deserves a bit more explication. We avoided clogging the roads with our car, opting instead to bike to check on my apartment just north of Rice. What we saw on the way was not unlike what we saw near Loren's house: many branches were down and some entire trees had fallen, but not too many vehicles or houses were directly damaged. This isn't to say there weren't such tragedies. For instance, the BMW crushed by the fallen oak that did manage to miss the corner of the house on the way down. Or the dead end street cul-de-sac blocked by five fallen trees. Or the corner of another house clipped by yet another tree. And wet, green leaves, though not tragic, seemed to coat everything, everywhere and provide some iconic definition of this storm to remember it by.

The number of people out and about was astounding. For once, many people (though there were numerous obnoxious exceptions) went without the use of their cars. There were far more pedestrians and bicyclists than we're accustomed to seeing. Some people were simply gawking. Others were already hard at work clearing their yards and streets of Ike's detritus. Many people seemed inclined to chat about their experiences. If there's any redeeming social effect from Ike, it will be people having met their neighbors from outside the confines of an air conditioned vehicle. Hallelujah!

I also found the variety of reactions to clean up interesting. Some people just went to work. Others gawked and figured someone else would come take care of it. Others, like us, did a little bit of both. In our case, we hope that the city of Houston or the power company, will be able to take care of the still hanging, but broken branch near the power line. We did clear some storm drains and concentrate the mess into piles, but we still have a lot of work to do. The branches will need to be cut, and that fig tree will need to be sliced and diced for removal.

Finally, I'll tell you the story of two worlds. I intend no judgment of either because both groups of people worked hard today. The driveway of an apartment complex two doors down on our block was entirely blocked in by a fallen, 100 foot tree. The trunk was solid and there were numerous branches. A group of men went at the trunk with machetes flashing and handsaws jamming. Opposite our backyard, one block away, a smaller, but not insubstantial, tree had fallen over the neighbor's car. One man calmly brandished a chainsaw as he cleared his driveway.

The Aftermath

It was too quiet. That's what finally woke me up around 8:30. It was still raining, and the wind was still blowing, but at a dramatically reduced intensity.

Loren and I surveyed the house, and its environs, with some trepidation. First the back yard, with the fig tree. And the driveway with the cars. At first glance, all was well, though the fig tree definitely lacked about half its foliage. It was only later that we realized that the fig tree had actually broken off at its base, and keeled over in a way that made it look, from our vantage point on the porch, like it had only lost its top. There were several branches in the driveway, but nothing too crazy.

In the front, the house survived the pecan tree dropping about half of its midsize or smaller branches. Somehow, none of these branches landed on the roof, though they were strewn all over the front lawn and driveway. One branch hung limply over the street itself, broken, but not fallen. It was an impressively depressing sight, yet we possessed a certain sense of glee that the house (and we) had survived. We could only hope that Galveston, and other southeast Houston communities had fared okay as well.

Finally, the leaves. Did I mention the leaves that were everywhere? There was a veritable layer of green covering the deck, the driveway, the roof, the street... The trees weren't quite stripped bare, but I'm betting that there'll be about half the amount of shade there once was when the sun returns to Houston.

After a quick phone call to our loved ones on the west coast to announce that we wouldn't, after all, be moving on to the next life at this time, we fell into a much deeper sleep until late morning.

Ike's Visit

I lost my bet with Loren. The power went out at 1:10 am, only 20 minutes before the time when Loren supposed it would go. I guessed 11:30, so I was way off. :) We didn't, as I suggested, immediately break out the left over chocolate ice cream from the freezer. Pity.

By this time, the wind had picked up a lot, and it was raining hard. Staring out the window was almost irresistible at this point, even if all we could see were the shadows of trees whipping in the wind. Some places in Houston must still have had electricity, for the sky had an eerie gray-yellow back glow to it. Sleep was elusive. Too much nervous energy, really, coupled with a lack of information now that the power had gone out. We slipped in and out of consciousness and woke often, each time to the warm, stale air that filled a house that was all shut up with no air circulation.

We had set the alarm for about 5:30 am, some time in the middle of the period we knew the forecast had specified as having maximum winds. I woke up to the alarm, groggy as could be, having slept as well as if I were in the middle of the woods with no mosquito netting. The howling of the wind outside the house stirred me to action, though. I peered cautiously out the back window: some horizontal rain, lots of trees bending to and fro, and the omnipresent howl of the wind. That was the "safe" side of the house, though.

All the action lay at the front of the house, where the pecan tree loomed over us. Again, I peered out the window between the mini blinds. It seemed to me that more sky was visible between the branches of the tree...perhaps we were missing some branches. The street was completely flooded, and the rain was pretty much all horizontal. That was all the impression I allowed myself in the 15 seconds I looked out the window. The pecan tree's remaining branches waved about all too ominously.

Satisfied that the house was intact and that we were safe for the time being, we went back to sleep, or at least what passed for sleep the night of Ike.

Safe and sound

We don't actually have power or internet access at either Loren or Pascal's house, but we are safe and sound. Tree branches fell, the streets flooded temporarily, and the power is still out. We're at Rice, where there is power and net access, to check up on the news and get in touch with everyone.

There are lots of pictures on my camera; some pretty dramatic. Those will have to wait until I once again have those "necessities" of modern life like power and net access. Cheers to everyone!

Waiting

Waiting and trying to act like it's a normal Friday night was challenging. Loren and I challenged ourselves and kept finding distracting activities like reading to one another and watching an episode of Planet Earth.

It's after midnight now and there's rain on top of the wind, but we're among the lucky Houston-ites who still have electricity. The latest reports seem to be saying that nearly 600,000 people have none. The lights are flickering quite a lot, however, so it may only be a matter of time before ours goes as well. Hopefully not.

Galveston may be turning into a hell of a tragedy from what it sounds like right now. I feel so, so badly for what may transpire there, and am afraid of what I'll read in the morning or the next few days. My most positive thoughts go out to those affected.

Alright, see you all in the morning!

Well, Sunset Was Pretty Anyway!

Afternoon Naps Rock!

I just woke up from a two hour afternoon nap. I hardly ever get to do that! It felt great! So far I like this hurricane day... ;)

Things are calm. It's been alternately overcast or party sunny all day so far, with a bit of a breeze. There has been rain and no gusting wind at all yet. This morning, Loren and I cleaned up the yard and deck, moving a bunch of stuff into the garage. I also climbed a ladder onto the roof in order to clear the gutter which, incidentally, looked like it hadn't been cleared in at least a couple of years. I took some pictures of the house and tree as well:


In the lower picture, it's easy to see that the tree towers over the house, but as it seems very healthy and robust (see the trunk in the upper picture), I think it'll be branches that shear off of it, instead of the entire thing, if anything bad happens at all.

Right now, it looks like here, just west of downtown Houston, we'll see a maximum of 70 mph sustained winds, which is just short of hurricane status (73 mph for Cat 1). In fact, we occasionally see winds this high during thunderstorms in Houston. But, of course, these only last between 5 and 30 minutes, not for 12 hours or so!

After we cleaned up this morning, Loren and I went on a bike ride with Lance:

It was a nice opportunity to expend energy and to tire Lance out before he gets cooped up for a while. Some houses boarded up their windows, many did not. There were a surprising number of people out, both as pedestrians and bicyclists, and less surprising, lots of people out by car. In passing by the shopping center, it was fascinating to see that some places boarded up, while others did not.

Some businesses were open (mostly restaurants, I think), while many others were already closed. I'm glad that I don't have to work, and hope that the workers at open businesses have the afternoon off to take care of their families. You can also see Houston's downtown in the background of this picture, with the overcast skies above:

So that's the boring state of affairs right now. But remember: "boring" is good in this scenario!

Hurricane Day

A hurricane day is like a snow day, in that you have the day off, except you don't get to go outside and play in the white stuff afterwards. Instead, you cower inside a dark house hoping the winds don't get strong enough for anything particularly bad to happen. At least, that's the plan so far with respect to this guy, with the innocuous-sounding name.

Loren and I made most of our preparations tonight. I packed some stuff, put the most valuable stuff that wasn't with me in the most sheltered places at my house, and then left my garage apartment to its own devices. We trekked up to Loren's house (a whopping 2 miles north of mine) where we eyed the large pecan tree outside rather suspiciously. "Are you going to pick an inopportune time to die?" is basically the thought that has passed through our heads. We'll shelter ourselves, plus the beloved dog, Lance, here unless things (like the forecast) appear to get worse. We also shopped for some food, but we were pretty well stocked already. To see the supermarket picked clean of so many essentials (like water, canned food, and beer) was impressive. We wished we had a camera with us at the time to document the damages. After picking up some chocolate soy milk (how come nobody wants a tasty drink that doesn't have to be extensively refrigerated?), we pondered a stop at Blockbuster, but opted out in favor of more homy past times (see below).

Ike _is_ a big hurricane, though. Maybe not in strength (a cat 2, with winds less than 110 mph, for now), but certainly in size. I mean, look at it:

It nearly covers the entire Gulf of Mexico! Damn!

So, should we worry? From what I've gleaned from reading various sources, but especially this very calm and rational blogger, we face the greatest danger from wind. Flooding isn't going to be a big deal because Houston often gets more water than this in a day's time. Storm surge isn't a problem with us being 50 miles inland. But, the wind will be fairly strong. Estimates are that we'll face 12+ hours of tropical storm-force winds (between 40 and 70 mph) and a few hours of hurricane-force winds (70 to 110 mph, if it stays a Cat 1 or Cat 2 storm) in the middle of the 12 hours (if we get hurricane-force winds at all). The National Hurricane Center has description of the hurricane strength scale, which describes Category 2 level damage: "Some roofing material, door, and window damage of buildings. Considerable damage to shrubbery and trees with some trees blown down." My opinion is that we'll be in good shape unless a certain tree decides to complicate things. We're prepared for anything short of that in terms of food, shelter, light, and such.

In the mean time, we've stocked up on pre-electronic age entertainment in the form of books and conversation with one another. Gasp! We might throw a ball to the dog, too. It's always a laugh and a half when he goes skidding across the parquet floor scrambling madly to reverse his momentum. I'll probably take some pictures too, and maybe post them here if there's still power and an internet connection. So, wish us luck and hope that the pecan tree decides to live a long, long life. Cheers!