In case you missed it, we had an earthquake on Monday night. It was pretty spectacular.
At first, I was baffled by the strange groaning sound that was more of a feel than a noise, but was quickly followed by a horrible sonic boom and then shaking and shaking and then some more shaking. I could hear the aftershocks creaking and groaning before I could feel them, and for someone who gets motion sick in an elevator, the whole thing was quite unsettling.
The Boyer Bunny Ranch is south of town and west, close to Sheckler Reservoir and somewhat near the epicenter of the first big one, rated by the USGS at 5.7 on the Richter scale. What followed, by my count just now on the website, is 147 aftershocks ranging from 1.1 to 3.9 on the scale.
I’m not really sure about the rabbits, they didn’t say much, and the goats were oddly silent too, but holy cow, the chickens did not love the experience any more than I did. For several minutes after the earth quit shaking, my poor chickens were squawking and flapping themselves about in protest.
We’ve all grown up here listening to stories about the big quake in 1953 and taking field trips out to the earthquake faults. Our way of life in Nevada includes this sort of activity on a fairly regular basis, but I would be lying if I didn’t admit that this one wasn’t the worst I’ve been in.
Thank goodness the damage was minimal, except for Walmart, where several local people posted online photos of the aisles littered with inventory that had been shaken off the shelves.
I hadn’t actually thought of earthquake etiquette other than what they teach us in school, get under a table or in a door frame, but one of my friends said to check all the water lines and make sure nothing had ruptured. Gas lines too. My sister suggested charging the phones real quick.
So while we all take a lesson and do a little emergency preparedness, we’ll still be right here…
…Keeping you Posted.
Rach
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