Growing up Adirondack by Mitch Lee

Burning time and energy in anticipation of Santa’s arrival

The snow had piled up pretty good around our Lime-kiln Lake home in that week prior to Christmas 1974.

Heavy snowfalls were typical back then, and at the age of eight I couldn’t wait to get out and explore the woods behind our house.

Prior to setting out for a hike I followed my usual routine.

I ate a steaming bowl of cinnamon oatmeal and some peanut butter toast to warm my insides.

Then I gathered my outdoor gear from my box of winter wear in the closet. (I was lucky if I could find a matching pair of wool socks, but if I couldn’t, a pair that kind of matched would do.)I peeled off my pajamas, slipped into my long johns and a sweatshirt, and covered it all up with snowpants, my jacket, a hat and mittens.

Mutt waited at the door, patiently awaiting the zip of my jacket and the sound of my last boot buckle being set in place.

My mother was sitting by the Christmas tree in the living room, wrapped in an afghan and reading as she sipped her coffee.

She lifted her eyes from her book and gave me a top-to-bottom glance to make sure I was properly attired for the outdoors.

I pulled a pair of over-sized wooden Army snowshoes from the corner of my father’s office.

Just as I was ready to go out the door my mother said, “While you’re out there you should fill the wood ring with fire wood.”

My vision of the trip did not include that chore, but once the request was made there was no avoiding it.

I stuck the snowshoes upright in the snow and rolled the old wheelbarrow to the wood pile and filled it up.

I used it as a battering ram and plowed it against the snow piles as I made trips back and forth to the house.

Once my task was complete, I went to strap on the snowshoes. They were about a foot too long for me and I had some difficulty tightening the dry leather straps through the small buckles.

Eventually I was able to adjust them and we were off.

I thought it would be a good idea to test the fit of the straps before setting on my journey, so I headed straight over the tallest of the snow banks in the yard.

Mutt raced around me for much of the climb.

With my snowshoes securely intact, we headed for the leafless woods.

The winter birds chattered as they scolded us for entering their domain.

Mutt plowed ahead and broke trail for me.

However, when she got tired we switched positions and she followed my tracks.

We spent the next two hours zig-zagging down hillsides and tramping through my woods.

Throughout the adventure, only once did I lose a snowshoe.

Even though we followed our same tracks, the trip back home seemed to take quite a bit longer.

Once we were back inside our cozy house, Mutt and I warmed ourselves by the wood stove as we reflected on our hike in the woods.

It was great way to eat up some time and energy as we anticipated the arrival of Christmas.

Mitch Lee, Adirondack native & storyteller, lives at Big Moose Lake.ltmitch3rdny@aol.com

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