Frank “Snowshoe Fritz” Plautz was a true mountain man, and one of NID’s most dedicated lake tenders at Bowman Reservoir. 

For 22 years, from 1960 to 1982, Fritz and his wife Ramona lived year-round at the remote 5,600-foot reservoir, helping keep water moving from the Sierra into NID’s system. In winter, the access road vanished under deep snow, leaving them 15 miles from the nearest plowed route and effectively snowbound for six to seven months at a time. 

Fritz earned his nickname honestly. While most would have turned to snowmobiles or skis, he preferred snowshoes, and he used them every day to make his rounds. He monitored lake levels, adjusted water releases, and operated a small weather station, moving through deep snow on foot regardless of conditions. Over the years, he used multiple types of snowshoes depending on the snowpack.

Life at Bowman was remote by any standard. The couple prepared for winter like a long deployment, stockpiling food, firewood, and supplies before the first major storms arrived. Their only regular contact with the outside world was a weekly helicopter flight that delivered mail, newspapers, and fresh vegetables.

Modern conveniences didn’t exist in any meaningful way. Fritz relied on a landline phone that often failed during storms and a shortwave radio when communication lines went down. Electricity came from a small hydroelectric generator at the base of Bowman Dam, and a small antenna brought in Sacramento television signals when weather allowed.

Despite the isolation, Fritz took pride in the work and in the weather data he collected. In a 1979 Sacramento Bee interview, he said each winter brought new challenges, but that he and Ramona had been snowed in as early as November 9 and as late as June 7.

He recalled December 1964 when in one month he measured 45 inches of precipitation -- the equivalent of 37 feet of snow -- at the stone and wood cabin that he and Ramona called home. In the winter of 1969, they had to climb in and out of the house through a third-story window.

Through it all, Fritz became known not just as a worker, but as a steady presence in one of the most remote and demanding posts in the NID system. It’s a reminder of the grit it once took to keep Sierra water flowing year-round to the communities below.