Pictures

My family has never just gone down to a store and bought a Christmas tree. See there's this guy who owns this ranch who my parents have this deal with. In exchange for a loaf of my mother's homemade bread, we can go Christmas tree hunting on their summer horse range. What's summer horse range? High mountain forests where the horses live in the summer when there isn't too much snow. They like clearings in the forest so that more grass grows. Anyway, my parents have been going to the same ranch for more than 30 years. This time I brought my camera along to show you all you city folk how it's really done.

We don't usually start out at the crack of dawn, but this year we did because we went on a Friday and we had high hopes of getting in a half day's work when we returned. We took my car because it can hold three people and two Christmas trees. I love my car.

We've arrived! I've never seen so little snow up there as there was this year. Of course the little dirt track was still snow-covered, but we've never been able to drive up that high before. (For family members who've gone in the past - this is beyond the bridge, up the hill, around the corner, up another hill and around a really scary corner. Dad says there used to be a saw mill up here. All that's left is a big wide spot to turn around.)

Dad got right to work. He later said he decided this one was a little too tall.

Don't let the lack of snow fool you - this is December 17th. My dad knows how to dress for the weather - just like the old mountain men.

I had to get some pictures of the scenery up there. It's unbelievable. Again my camera doesn't quite do it justice.

Is there a special lense that helps define depth of field? Those distant mountains are far, far away and there are some even beyond that the camera lost in the sky.

You really have to be there to appreciate it fully. But at least these shots bring back memories for me.

This tree was a serious contendor. Mom liked it because it came "pre-decorated" but we decided the lovely cones probably wouldn't survive the drive home, and that was its strongest feature. The hunt continues.

This is how you measure a tree to see if it will fit in your livingroom. No need for silly tags saying "six feet" - no no, just have mom (known to be five feet tall) go stand by it and hold something up at arms length. Get your pen or whatever in the right perspective so it looks as tall as her, then see how many pens (at that distance) it takes to get to the top of the tree. Wait a minute, that's not a pen Dad's using to measure. What is it?

Oh. Something he found while he was out walking around. He even knew the caliber, though I've forgotten what he said. You don't generally need rifle shells to hunt Christmas trees.

Another contendor. In fact, I think this is the one we came back to and cut down.

But you can't just cut down the first tree you find. Must wander about the forest looking at all potentials until your feet start to freeze. Otherwise, you might as well have gone down to a store. Actually, each person on the trip had to find a tree to nominate. This was my suggestion. It didn't win. Something about too bushy and double trunks.

Jordon found this tree, so it was his job to defend its attributes. He pointed out that it was conveniently flat on one side so it could go up against the wall.

This is hunting after all, so once you chase it down you have to kill it. Dad sawed till he got tired. Then Jordon took a turn. Mom helped... push the tree down on Dad? I stood around taking pictures. I cut down my fair share when Jordon was little.

Dad shows another way of measuring Christmas trees in the wild. Of course, this one is best after they're already dead, so you have to be careful about using it. As you can see, we needed to cut the tree again once we knew how tall it really was.

The law of the hunt. Once you kill it you have to skin it and clean it. Quote of the day. "Oh yeah, this is why I threw the hatchet in the car." Of course, the car was way back there. So the deed got done with the saw. Not as elegant, but it works.

Once we found the family Christmas tree, we had to find one for my house. I prefer mine to be a more manageable size. Thanks for cutting it down for me Dad.

At this size, a more appropriate metaphore seems to be fishing.

Jordon carried the family tree (hee! pun!) all the way back to the car. Usually we can drag it easily on the snow (or, when we were little kids, ride it like a sled down the hill) but as previously mentioned - very little snow this year.

Here in what they call the "high desert" (we get less than 10 inches of precipitation in a year, most of it - usually - as snow) we don't have holly and ivy for natural red and green colors. Instead we have sage brush and.... the scrubby little red plant that always grows underneath them. My dad would know its name.

The trees fit in the car and made it all the way home. Usually they're very fragrant as they adjust to room temperature from sub-zero. But... a common lament... not cold enough this year. They were pretty, but not as pine-fresh. (Which, by the way, is nothing like floor cleaner.)

Here's the traditional post-hunt meal. Grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup. Jordon said when he saw this picture that he wasn't praying, he was falling asleep.

And here is the tree on Christmas eve - all dressed up for a real party. We were quite pleased with it.

And here's my little tree all decorated and with presents. I think this was taken Christmas morning before I went upstairs.