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It seems that everything that we do is an adventure, even if
it entails something as simple as going to the forest to cut our Christmas
tree. Two years ago, for our first Christmas together, John and I obtained a
permit from the U.S. Forest Service to cut our own Christmas tree. We ended up
getting stuck in near-blizzard conditions coming home on US 60, when a freak
snowstorm blew through Globe. (Serves us right for taking the scenic route
home!) Last year - our first Christmas in our new house - we were so busy
working on the house that we never had a chance to use our Christmas Tree
permit. Instead, we gave it to John's cousin Melissa. When she went to the Mogollon Rim to cut her tree, it was a warm, sunny day, without even a
snowflake on the ground.
This year, since it was going to be Mary's first Christmas, I thought it would
be nice to have a real tree again, freshly cut from the forest like we had
done in 1998. Although John thought I was loopy (considering that Mary will
never remember her first Christmas, as she will only be four and a half months
old), he agreed anyway, so we applied for our permit. We barely made the
deadline, but we still managed to get a good permit, for the Chevelon Ranger
District, near Woods Canyon Lake...for the same place where we had cut down
our first tree!
We decided to go get our tree on Sunday, December 10. After loading up the van
with all of our equipment (axe, saw, sled, and diaper bag), we started our
journey to the Mogollon Rim. Of course, when we stopped for breakfast at
Einstein's Bagels, we realized that we had forgotten the most important thing:
the permit! (Need I say that having a baby makes you a big forgetful?) We
returned home to retrieve the permit; then, we set off again.
It was a cold and cloudy day on the Mogollon Rim, much like it had been two
years ago. The forecast had called for slight chances of snow in the high
country that day, and I just knew that they were going to be correct. It was
just a question of when it was going to snow: would it do so while we were
cutting the tree, or on the way home? And would we take the scenic route home
again?
There was a lot of snow - and ice - on the ground when we arrived at FR 300
(the famous Rim Road). There were also a lot of people on the road, all of
whom seemed to be there for the same reason as us: to cut down a Christmas
tree. There were convoys of pick-up trucks, coming and going; those that were
leaving already had nice looking spruce or fir trees strapped in their beds.
That was the type of tree that we wanted, too, so it was a good sign to see
that there were so many nice trees to be found.
Now our goal was to turn our Christmas tree search into a short hike - that
was why we brought the sled. Once we entered the Christmas tree cutting area,
we pulled the van off to the side of the road and parked there so that we
could proceed on foot. John loaded the axe, his handsaw, and the diaper bag
into the sled, and I put on the Snugli so that I could carry Mary. When we
were ready, we started walking into the forest.
We hiked into a low area, where John and I had hoped to find a nice spruce or
fir tree - he figured that we could find those types of trees in the low-lying
areas, because it would be colder there. Instead, all we found were
long-needled pines, which we thought made ugly Christmas trees. After walking
about a quarter of a mile, we gave up and hiked back to the road. We ended up
about a quarter of a mile away from the van, though, so John told Mary and me
to wait there. He then ran to the van and drove it back to us.
As we continued driving along FR 300, I suddenly noticed that there were
flurries falling from the sky. "Um, is it snowing?" I asked. I wasn't sure;
it's not every day that I get to see snow fall. It could have been snow
falling from the trees, for all I knew!
"Yes, it's snowing," John replied, sounding a bit annoyed. Of course, the
reason he was annoyed was that he was having problems with the van. He had a
loose connection in the steering column that was causing the van to stall out
every time he hit a rough section of the dirt road. Now that it was snowing,
he was getting worried that we were going to get stuck there.
We continued driving until we reached FR 169, which was where we had found our
Christmas tree two years ago. We parked the van along a snow-covered side road
off of FR 169 then got out and started walking. "Let's hurry up and get this
over with," John insisted, "before it starts snowing harder."
Mary and I followed John into the forest to search for our Christmas tree. We
weren't gone more than ten minutes before we finally found a nice tree to cut
down. It was only four feet tall, but it was wide and not at all bald like all
of the others we had seen. "Good enough for me," John said, and so he kneeled
down and began cutting it. As he did so, it started snowing harder.
"I better get Mary back into the van," I suggested. "I don't want her to get
sick." Even though this was Mary's first snowfall, it was getting colder out
there by the second, and I didn't want to keep her out there for much longer.
John asked me to wait for him so that I didn't get lost; then, I followed him
back to the van. Once the tree was loaded and Mary was safely in her car seat,
we climbed in and drove like mad to get out of there.
Well, okay, we didn't drive like mad. We actually had to drive slowly -
especially on the rough sections of road - so that the van wouldn't stall out
on us. It stalled out a couple of times before we finally made it back to the
pavement, but after that we didn't have anymore problems with it.
Instead of taking the scenic route home through the snow, we returned the way
we had come - through Payson. By the time we reached Christopher Creek, it had
stopped snowing, and we safely made it back to Phoenix. We spend the rest of
the afternoon decorating our Christmas tree and wrapping presents to put
underneath it. |
