The mail was delivered to West Hancock last Saturday for the first time all week. Hancock, with a population that barely clips 300 and just over 18 miles of traveled state and town roads, can usually do without the sophisticated East/West designation, but these are not usual times.
A week ago Monday, August 7, I had hiked off of my property, around the chasm that was once my driveway, past Charles and the construction crew stitching the town road back together, and down to my car, where I drove to Granville to work at the home of friends whose internet service was not disabled in the storm, as it was here. The Granville friends had been out of town during the August 3 storm, so after mopping out their waterlogged basement, I logged on to check emails, update clients, commit a couple of code changes to various projects, and refresh the FEMA website a few times waiting to see if Addison County had been added to Vermont’s emergency declaration.
A call came from the selectboard chair (who happens to be my spouse): the state had condemned the bridge at the bottom of Tucker Brook Road. The bridge would be closing in a few hours, for an indeterminate length of time, probably weeks. To get from west of the bridge to Hancock or other towns in the White River Valley, one would now drive over the Middlebury and Brandon gaps, turning a five-minute drive into a 45-minute 2-mountain-pass scenic adventure.
Charles’ excavation service would build us a temporary access to get our second car off the property, but I needed to get home or be stuck on the other side of the river. As I was receiving this news, an email came in from VTrans to the same effect. Then a screenshot of that email alert, this time to a local Facebook Messenger group of neighbors. This is how local news travels around here.
By the time I returned to the bridge that afternoon, the construction crew was in full swing: men in hardhats and high-vis outfits were taking control of the highway, road signs announcing the closure were being set up, and neighbors who had gotten the message were stationing cars on both sides of the bridge in anticipation. The fire department had positioned a fire truck west of the bridge to address any emergency needs on that side, which would be stored at night at the fire chief’s home in the evenings. Others were unloading bicycles, asking neighbors with adjoining property for permission to stage temporary parking lots. Unlike the Irene flooding of 2011 which turned Hancock abruptly into an island community, those of us who got the memo had time to prepare.
With the privilege of a flexible work schedule and the ability to navigate the physical and social terrain, the weeks haven’t been entirely unpleasant. Our town temporarily has the equivalent of two walking city blocks of distance. As we’ve made the passage the past couple of weeks, we have made fast friends with the repair crew, made small talk on the temporary pedestrian bridge, and left the keys in the car so that others can run errands.
We’ve also been late for meetings, arrived at the post office or grocery store just as it had closed, gotten caught in downpours, and tried unsuccessfully to navigate the narrow footbridge with parcels or bicycles too wide to fit. We’ve delivered groceries to people who don’t have the privilege to leave their house or cross the chasm. We’ve done plenty of doomscrolling. And many days, living in Vermont has, indeed, become a full-time job.
Ongoing onslaught makes building back unbearable
Yesterday, I crossed from West to East in the morning, to drive to a client’s home. Work is a good diversion from the endless voice system prompt navigation that is at-home disaster recovery, after all. To prepare the installation of the new culvert, road crews successfully diverted Tucker Brook, leaving an Old Testament scene as the crew stood in the freshly dried waterbed, assessing the channel. When I drove back a few hours later, after another hard and fast downpour, the road bed had broken open again.
So that’s why the Daily Grouse is publishing today, without fanfare and somewhat belying its name (we won’t be publishing daily for a while!). While we’re lucky to live in a place with excellent statewide news coverage, there are plenty of tiny pockets of communities that need more. So, watch this space for updates on local school and road closures (and, hopefully, reopenings), local businesses, municipal meetings, and explainers on basic services as I endeavor to connect some of Vermont’s most isolated towns. Sign up below for local information delivered straight to your inbox.
What’s your grouse today?
Lastly, what’s your Daily Grouse today? Mine is that I actually like running into people on the streets — Vermont needs more walkable spaces. When I moved here I was told that people here LIKED the outdoors. Of course, I guess that was before this became a not-so-tropical rainforest.
Send me an email at [email protected] and let me know your best grousing today — I’d love to feature the best ones.