Christmas in the Colestin

Looking out our back door on 12/25/08








Here’s how we do Christmas in the Colestin, campers.  We love our kids and of course we want to spend the holidays with them, but given the historic amounts of snow in Portland, and a not negligible amount here with more in the forecast, we encouraged everyone to stay home. Arly Sue and Paul, however, were not to be dissuaded.  After many phone calls and solemn admonitions to be careful, they bought the last pair of tire chains in Eugene and set out south.  They made it to Ashland without a problem, but it was snowing hard on the pass and chains were required.  The $80 chains they had purchased that morning were refundable if they were returned unused, and since their car would never make it up our road even with chains, Sequoia drove to Ashland and picked them up. 

At the last minute, he decided to take my Audi instead of his truck so he would have room for their gear and presents.  Now the Audi is an admirable little car and handles a snowy pavement with aplomb, but it wasn’t really built for our road.  I leave it parked at the top of our driveway when the weather is this bad. So, Sequoia drove his truck to the top of the drive, made the transfer to the Audi, proceeded to Ashland, picked up Arly and Paul, and made it almost all the way home without incident. Almost. The hairpin turn above the last bridge brought him low.  He got half way up before the car fishtailed, slid sideways and almost jumped the embankment.  There they were, less than half a mile from the house, stuck. It was about that time that Paul realized he’d left his shoes in the other car and had nothing but his Birkenstocks.  What could he do but sit in the car while Sequoia and Arly spent the next hour digging, spinning the wheels, digging some more, spinning some more, catching traction, backing into another ditch, and digging some more.  They finally had enough and called me for reinforcements, which must have been a heartbreaking moment for Sequoia. Asking for help violates something deep in the core of his being, and asking ME for help is torture, plain and simple.

While all this was going on I was sitting by the fire all warm and cozy reading my book and drinking hot cocoa.  Upon receiving their call, I pulled on my snow gear, hiked to the top of the drive, fired up the truck and went in search of my intrepid travelers.  Sequoia had managed, by dint of massive effort, to back the Audi down the hairpin all the way to the bridge, so the vehicle was off the road. Once I reached them, he chained up the truck so we could make it back up the hill and we loaded the presents, gear and Arly, Sequoia and Paul into the front of the truck, which looked a little like 40 clowns piling into a tiny car.  I hopped into the back of the truck, settled onto the snow drift behind the cab and we headed home.  We made it about a hundred yards before being pulled up short by a large tree branch blocking the road.  I had just passed that spot not 30 minutes earlier, but the snow was still falling and, when a branch has to go, it has to go.  Whaddayagonna do?  We all jumped out and started heaving the branch for all we were worth.  After a couple of tries and much discussion, we finally got the road cleared. Arly declined the honor of the front seat and jumped in the back of the truck with me, and we bounced and shimmied home.  In all, it was a two and half hour trip from Ashland to our house, and another memorable Christmas in the Colestin.