Having just experienced my first Christmas as a parent, I have decided to write about my favorite Christmas prior to the arrival of my son but after my leaving my parent's home - the period of time in between, where my wife comprised my entire immediate family. I meant to post this on Christmas Eve but stuff kept coming up. You know how it is.
2009
The small town of Seven Devils had received more snow than anyone had expected. More than a foot had fallen in the week prior to my arrival at the cabin my parents had rented. Still, not thinking to check any of this, I decided to drive my front-wheel drive 1997 Ford Taurus up to the mountains.
As a graduate of Appalachian State University, I figured I knew how to handle some snow and, what's more, that same Ford Taurus had survived my years as an undergrad at ASU.
When I arrived at the entrance to the cabin driveway I had a choice: the driveway was a gravel path down a steep incline into a large, mostly level ground on which rested four other cabins, culminating in one direction with a sharp drop and a spectacular view of Grandfather Mountain.
I knew that my car could handle to drop down the hill, steep as it was, though the snow on the ground was packed thick. It was noon and ice wouldn't form until later in the afternoon. I drove, slid rather, down the slope without any incident and, feeling cautious, parked my car some distance away from the cabin, to avoid having to drive up another slope to the front door – I didn't want to risk becoming stuck.
I stayed at the cabin with my parents and siblings until 23 December, planning to leave that day for Charlotte to meet up with my wife at my mother-in-law's townhome. Snow had fallen in the days while I had been in Banner Elk, though, and the cycle of melting and freezing over that period had made the driveway a bit more dangerous.
I shuffled through the snow to my vehicle, affectionately known as “Fred”, and began to try to reverse. My wheels hard into the early-afternoon ground, all ready re-freezing. My wheels spun wildly again, and to no avail. I was stuck, after all. I waddled back to the cabin and called my wife, informing her that I would most certainly be able to leave the next day - at least I hoped so.
On the day of Christmas Eve I returned to my car with my father in tow behind me, the both of us trudging through the crunchy, thick snow. We took turns pushing, begging, swearing at Fred, and again, to no avail.
My dad produced a snow shovel from the cabin and I began to tediously clear the area around my tires. Freeing the tires, my dad took the wheel and began to slowly grind up toward the slope which, days before, I had slid down so uncontrollably.
The wheels became stuck once more, this time spinning in the icy mud of the driveway itself at a curve in the slope - what's worse, the car began to slide backward, digging small, tire-width holes in the ground whenever my father was fortunate enough to brake.
Salt. Fortunately, there was a huge bag of salt inside the cabin, as well. I knew how to use it well enough, having had to spread it onto the lightly dusted pavement of a multi-use complex where I had worked as a security guard years earlier, before I had become a teacher.
Finally, tires squealing, swears-a-flying, Fred broke free and haltingly darted up the rest of the hill, coming to rest on the shoulder of the main road.
Not daring to return downhill to formally part with my family, I waved from the crest of the ridge instead and then climbed into my car, cautiously slipping, sometimes driving, back down into the valley and the Highway 105 Extension. I called my mother-in-law, telling her that I would indeed be home for Christmas and she could, in fact, plan on me - and all that.
My wife, in her days before becoming a college professor, was working retail in Charlotte at the time, so I decided I would surprise her by being there when she returned to her mother's after her shift.
Christmas itself was lovely but one of the best aspects of it was being able to break free of the icy corner of the state where, years before, my wife and I had first met, and in breaking free, return home for Christmas.
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