Winter Memories

Last night, as I listened to the weather forecast which is predicting a cold snap, and possibly even snow to the valley floor, it brought to mind the winter I was in the 5th grade.

The week before Christmas vacation, it began to snow intermittently. I went to school the first two days, trogging nearly four miles to the highway to catch the bus. On Wednesday of that week, the snow was up to my waist. My mom kept me home to help my dad shovel snow. The following two days, school was canceled. By the following week, the snow was almost level with the redwood deck around our mobile home, totaling around five and a half feet.

I can remember the entire forest seemingly transformed into a quiet nether-world. It was how I had always imagined C.S. Lewis’ Narnia. The neighbor kids and I bundled up and set out to discover this new world. We must have been quite the site-- Dale, age 15, Bonnie, age 14, and me, age 11. Dale took the lead, forging our way through unbroken snow. I brought up the rear, working extra hard to literally jump into the footsteps of the other two.

It was so cold that the small ponds we shared were completely frozen over. Using plastic garbage bags, we slid down hills and onto the ice, screaming the whole way. I remember vividly the feeling of jettisoning completely out of control onto the frozen pond.

Once we tired of the multitude of steep climbs back up the bank, we ambled off in the direction of Ken Knowles’ abandoned property. After much pushing and tugging of one another, the three of us managed to climb the 25 feet or so up onto the roof of the metal shop building. The view of the tops of the snow-laden trees was impressive.

After a few primitive calculations and the calling out of a couple triple-dog-dares, Bonnie and I shoved Dale down the sloped roof and into the deep snow below. Bonnie, ever the dare devil, slid off right behind him. I, never quite as agile as the other two, held fast to the roof until my comrades suggested I was a coward and questioned my parentage. With my good name in the balance, I let go from the roof and slid down into the deep snow below.

I’m not quite sure what it is about free falling that I find so exhilarating, but that 25-foot drop was wonderful, each of the half-dozen or so times we did it.

Once we had flattened all of the snow around the building, we decided to wander over toward the old trading post. What normally would have been about a 15-minute walk, turned into over an hour of pushing and pulling one another through the deep snow drifts, only to find ourselves about half way to our destination. We decided to continue on, knowing that there would likely be a warm woodstove at the other end of the journey.

We were amazed at the complete change to the landscape. Where there had once been rocky trails, Manzanita bushes, and other facets to the terrain, was obfuscated by an indistinguishable blanket of white.

While I was in the process of trying to get my foot jammed back into the boot that had become wedged in a tight snow step, Bonnie and I heard a garrulous whoop from Dale, who had vanished in front of us. Bonnie and I looked at each other for an instant before we heard Dale hollering from a snowy cavern below us.

Where Dale had fallen through the snow, there was a huge hole, and down below was Dale, standing on bare dirt among a vast Manzanita forest. Without even thinking, Bonnie and I jumped down as well. We roamed around among the Manzanita bushes, with which we were well acquainted, as if we had fallen down a rabbit hole. I’m still amazed when I think of how those bushes held up five feet of snow.

I was enchanted by what seemed to be our own secret fortress. Comforting for the moment was the fact that we were able to dry off some and warm up our extremities. When we grew tired of our subterranean adventure, we pondered how to get out. After several false starts, we found a place where the snow was perpendicular to the ground and began digging our way out.

Fortunately for us, we actually recognized our surroundings when we resurfaced into the winter wonderland. Since we were closer to home than to the trading post, we tromped to my house, where a warm fire was awaiting us.

If this week's weather brings along this kind of winter wonderland, I hope there are kids out there somewhere enjoying the fun!