CHINOOK by Frances Oldham Murphy

 

            My hometown, the farming community of Rexburg, Idaho, is in the high desert of southeastern Idaho, near Yellowstone Park and Jackson Hole, Wyoming.   Winters are very cold with lots and lots of snow.  I was in the fifth grade the winter we had the big “Chinook”.  We were the “Baby Boomers” and there were too many fifth graders who lived “in town”.  There wasn’t enough room for all of us at the local schools, so we had to be bussed to grade schools located “in the country” near the centers of the small farming communities just outside of Rexburg.  It was February and there was still quite a bit of snow on the ground.  Then came the “Chinook”.  The warm wind.  I learned its name from my dad. 

            The Chinook melted all the snow in the valley and in the surrounding mountains over a period of 24 hours.  The roads in and out of Rexburg were flooded. The Teton Fork of the Snake River ran along the north and west edges of Rexburg.  The river was raging.  But “YAY” we couldn’t take the bus to school for a couple of days.  It was a treat for all of us kids who had to go to school “in the country” that year.  The town kids were able to make it to their classrooms.  I waived to my friends as their parents drove them to school in town.  

            I remember how warm the wind felt.  Not at all like the blustery winter wind that drifted the snow and froze the roads.  This was a gentle, almost tropical, wind.  We could go outside in February without a coat!  What fun for a 10-year old! 

            I loved the name of the wind—Chinook.  It sounded like the words of the ancient Indians who lived in the area for thousands of years before the white men came. The name rang of mystery and stories around a campfire.