How to Build a Quincy: Making The Most of a True Iowa Winter

February 1, 2004
Michael Evans
  

From where I sit this has been a terrific winter!  Gobs of snow and plenty of cold.

In my growing up years here in Iowa it seemed like we had much more severe winters than I have seen in the past decade or so. 

I’ll never forget the blizzard of ’76.  I was 11 years old and the forecast was for a severe blizzard, the likes of which hadn’t been seen in years. 

After the storm moved in the family all huddled around the TV to hear the weatherman give his report. 

Imagine!  Those guys didn’t even have the benefit of super-giga-hyper doppler!   They just stuck their finger up in the air, spit into the wind and went by gut instincts.  Well, maybe that’s not entirely accurate.

The weatherman warned us of the extreme danger of this storm warning people not only not to drive, but not even to walk outside the door of our homes!

Upon hearing this I immediately asked dad if we could go outside and walk around.  He saw the yearnings of an adventurous young man and agreed.

I’ll never forget it.  The gusts of wind and blinding, cutting snow are unforgettable to this very day.  It was a complete white-out.

If dad hadn’t agreed to do this I would have been bereft of a significant positive memory that warms my heart to this day.

We didn’t stay out for more than a few minutes.  We probably didn’t walk more than 200 feet.  That wasn’t the point.  The point was that dad and I did something together that to me was very cool. 

We also used to sit in the garage with the door open and watch summer thunderstorms roll in from the west.

Looking back I don’t remember the moment I first broke 100,000 points on the Asteroid video game or how many touchdowns I scored in high school football. (It wasn’t many but who cares?)  But I do remember moments like these.

We ought not to underestimate the power of positive memories.  Good memories work like compound interest…at least in a perfect world where markets never fail.

They grow and become larger than they really were, larger than seems possible, larger than life, sometimes even achieving mythical proportions.

And I’m not just talking about the fact that nearly all the men in my generation had to walk back and forth from school each and every day… three miles, uphill both ways, rain or shine, tornado or hurricane…backwards, with no shoes or socks…. yea even blindfolded… No. These are the gimmees.

I’m talking about creating lasting memories with your kids by simply being good stewards of  the simple (and free) things God provides…things like snow and snowstorms.

In our neck of the woods we have had gobs of snow this winter.  That’s why the rest of this column will be devoted to explaining what a quincy is and how to build one with your children.

If you look the word up in a dictionary you won’t really find too much.  The closest you will find is the word quince (pr.kwins) and it is a western asian shrub or tree having white flowers and hard apple-like fruit.

That’s not what I’m talking about.  I’m talking about a snow igloo.  I don’t know where the name came from except that’s what my friend Shannon has always called them.   He thinks he saw the word in some Boy Scout magazine in a previous life.

Whatever.  My point is this:  These quincies are very cool and you will become an instant hero to your kids if you help them build one and then sleep in it with them.

Over the years my friend Shannon and I have built several quincies and slept in them in mid winter Minnesota sub zero temps.

Anyone can build a snow igloo in the traditional way, packing damp snow in buckets or blocks and constructing something from the outside in.

A quincy begins on the inside.  To build a quincy you really need to have a minimum of six inches of snow on the ground. 

Son Benjamin and I built one a few days ago, so it’s still fresh in my mind. Here are the instructions for how to build a quincy:

Step One:Pile up a bunch of snow.  This is more challenging than it sounds.   The lighter the snow the better.  If you want to build a quincy big enough to set two lawn chairs inside so you can play games at night you must build it to at least a height of six feet. 

It will assume a conical shape that ends up being much wider than its height.  There  must be a math formula for this kind of thing, 

With six to eight inches of snow on the ground we probably used close to 3000 square feet of our back yard.  It took us a good hour and a half of hard work in zero degree weather.

Step Two:Do nothing.  Simply let the snow settle in on itself.   The lightest of snow, once it is relocated, will settle and pack nicely if it is left alone for an hour or so. 

Do not overlook this instruction.  Since it was so cold we did not wait a full hour and it collapsed!

Step Three: Collect several dozen sticks six to eight inches long and stick them into the snow mound at various points representing all areas of the mound. 

These sticks will become the crucial guage which determines where the digging from the inside must cease.

Step Four:  Go inside the house, or car, if you’re truly in the wild and have some fresh chocolate chip cookies and milk, or your children’s snack of choice.

Step Five: Dig it out.  After the pile of snow has settled for a minimum of an hour you may begin digging. 

Begin by creating an oval-shaped igloo doorway.  I would recommend making it at least a couple feet high and wide enough to crawl in and out comfortably.

Start digging and don’t stop until you begin to see  the sticks covering the inside of the quincy.  Now you may begin to fully understand the importance of these sticks.

The digging part actually takes a long time.  I’ve found that if you take a tarp inside with you it makes the snow removal much easier.

As I already mentioned our most recent quincy collapsed because we neglected to let the snow self-pack long enough and I dug to within an inch or two of the outside in some areas.

No problem.  We just piled all the snow up again and dug it out the next day.  I would recommend that the digger have someone on the outside just in case it collapses.

A mound of snow this size probably weighs a ton or more. 

Step Six:  Smooth down the inside walls and ceiling with your mittened hands.  Trust me on this one.  If you sleep in it the heat from your breath and body will plunge you into a self-made water torture chamber with drips dropping.

Step Six:Make a breathing hole.  From the inside of the quincy shove a broomstick up through the top and wiggle it around. 

This is only necessary if you sleep in it.  Carbon dioxide can make life in close quarters miserable.  Also, no heating is necessary. 

Even if it’s 20 below zero outside, inside you will find the temperature to be in the mid-forties.

After sleeping in it for a night the inside and outside will become solid ice and be virtually indestructible until the spring thaw.

In the most recent quincy we finished it on a Saturday night and were planning on sleeping in it the next week. 

But, Elisabeth was playing in it a couple days later and poked her hand through a couple weak spots and it collapsed. 

If you really want it to last you must sleep in it and watch it morph into a chunk of ice.

Trust me.  These are cool.  Your sons and daughters will rise up and call you blessed.  But they are the ones who will be truly blessed by dad’s adventurous spirit!