I didn't think I had it in me to be so into the snow. Russell, like me, was up and checking for snow each and every morning. The night it was falling there was a little bit accumulated on the ground, but I still live for the hush of a perfectly white and undisturbed sheet of snow for as far as the eye can see, and waited patiently til morning. I got up at 6 and found the digital camera and took pictures. It's gorgeous here.

Yesterday, I added some adventures to the annals of Red-neck Ruby. (Red-neck Ruby was a nickname I had in college because I worked on a Wilderness crew, landscaped, and often wore a pair of shitkickers and plaid flannel in the winter.)

I heard that the next several days are supposed to be a lot of snow and blow and I really had been wanting to cut a Christmas tree. I'd found out for $10 I could get a Christmas tree cutting permit from the US Forest service, so I hit my local office and bought my permit. I turned down the offer of two permits, thinking,"What kind of lunatic wants to cut down and haul two Christmas trees home?" Of course, I thought that and then watched some older guy walk in and get two. The ranger showed me the various locations and I found one that seemed closest and she informed me that the road was a dirt one and suggested that I have four-wheel drive. In my complete ruby-ness, I smiled and said no problem.

I took my permit and went home. I found my trusty tree saw. I've had this tree saw for 12 years -- since college -- and have always loved it and usually have used it about once a year to trim the end on my Christmas tree freshly before I drop the tree in water.

I packed warm clothes into the car -- wool mittens and socks, a couple of warm coats, food, and water. I called Mike, told him where I was going to be and that I'd leave him a map. I told him if he didn't hear from me by 215 to pick up Russell at school and if he didn't hear from me at 400 to send people out looking for me.

I stopped and bought sorel boots on the way and drove down the highway looking for the turnoff to Leviathan Mine Road. As I got down the road, I realized just how freakin' far I was from anything or anyone. When I turned onto Leviathan Mine Road, I felt a little nervous. I thought about some of those horny miner guys and got more nervous, but I wanted a Christmas tree, so I drove. Leviathan Mine Road varied in texture from a muddy swath winding through private land (houses and a weird truck trailer graveyard) to a washboard brain scrambler complete with boulders and potholes heading ever upward in elevation with steep expanses of white fir and sagebrush on either side.

Leviathan Mine Road. The name should have been a warning -- Gigantic Mine Road-- probably a leftover from the days when the primary modes of transportation were donkies and workhorses and then widened by the USFS for logging trucks or something, though, I don't know how you could log on slopes as steep as that.

It was because of that steepness, that I'd decided I was definitely cutting a tree above the road versus below it. I figured I'd make gravity help me to gently roll my perfect Christmas tree down onto the roof of my subaru, where I'd tie it my vehicle like a proper mountain momma.

The side benefit of that is that I was more likely to drive off the side down the hill, as I looked for my perfect tree on the windiest mountain road I've been on in a while.

Finally, I found a widened place in the road around a drainage. I looked up and saw the most lovely Christmas tree. From where I sat in my 1986 Subaru it looked perfect, so I got my trusty saw and started hiking up through the sagebrush, slipping and sliding on mud and snow until I got to my tree to discover that the backside of my tree was um, limited. A small tree hidden behind it made it look fuller than it was. After hiking up a steep slope at twice the elevation I'm used to (about 8000 feet), I was a little dejected about the whole thing and started looking around. I saw what looked to be a reasonable tree above, but having learned the lesson of the two trees make things fuller, I decided to hike up to it and check it out.

It was my tree. I started sawing. I sawed and sawed and sawed. Then I remembered that not only have I had that saw since college, but I've also had that blade since college. Then I started huffing and puffing and calling on God and every so often trying the tree to see if I could just get the damned thing to break off. As I was sawing on this thing, I realized just how truly huge it was and started to contemplate trying to get it to the car. I saw a big truck drive by on the road and nearly flagged them down, but I figured that other cars might be through and I could just flag them down. I figured wrong.

After an hour of sawing, I got the tree cut off and had it fall the wrong way down the hill. Then I realized just how big and heavy the stupid thing was because I could hardly move it. I finally managed to mash a few smaller trees and get it facing the right way and then started to heave it through the sagebrush. Mind you, by this time, I was a good 500 feet from the road and this was a 15 foot white fir being dragged through underbrush. Suffice it to say, there was a lot more huffing and puffing and calling on God.

When I got it down to the car, I realized,"Oh, shit. How the hell am I going to get it on the car? "

I spent an hour or so fooling around with pulleys and knotting to no avail. I had the back stuffed with winter clothing and supplies and assorted kid crap. Then I was finally getting desperate...I could toss it down the ravine and come back with Mike to get it. Then what to do with the kids crossed my mind and I scratched that idea. I even took the time to cut another 18 inches off it. I still couldn't lift the doggone thing.

Then it dawned on me that I could probably wedge it in the back of the subaru and rope it up so it wouldn't fall out. I didn't have a warning flag, but I was in the middle of wilderness USFS hell, so it wasn't like anyone would give a rat's buttcheek. I then thought, well, I could use the permit tape on my tree as a flag, though that little bit of reddish tape looked pretty lost in all that tree. I could pick up a flag later -- the permit would do.

With this beloved plan in mind, I shoved everything from the entire filthy car into the front passenger seat. I then shoved the 15 foot white fir into my car and bungee corded the hatch back down so it wouldn't beat the tree to death. I got about 5 miles down Washboard Lane and heard gun shots. I thought for half a second,"Gee, the car must be backfiring." Then I came across a truck with a guy and his three sons, checking over their guns and realized someone was out there hunting and may have mistaken my light brown car for a deer!

At which point, I thanked my heavenly father for the color fuschia and the fact that I was actually wearing it. Shocking pink...bright pink...yup...NOT A DAMNED DEER!

As I'm driving down, I'm realizing I have truly driven to the bowels of hell and back and start getting frantic about the time. And I realize, I'm a little woozy.

You know, thank God for Dole Fruit cups. That and water, God. I mean, what could be better when you're huffing and puffing over a Christmas tree in the middle of hell? Refreshing and light!

I finally get to the road and am thinking I have a half hour to call Mike. As I drive, I realize I wasn't paying attention to just how long it took me. I got to the first phone at 245 at a 7-11. They gave me a bright red "out of order" sign which I tied to my tree.

When I got it home, we didn't have a tree stand that was nearly big enough to hold it. I went to Costco stumbling about like a zombie to get their cast iron yee-haw tree stand and brought it home.

Mike was totally in horror and awe that I'd brought this 15 foot monster down the hill all by myself. You should have heard how appreciative he was AFTER I made him move the tree.

We get the tree in the stand, fill the stand with water, and start putting on lights and a few ornaments. Mike decides he'll climb the ladder and put the angel on it. He downed the tree. He not only downed it, but he broke the tree stand. Water spilled everywhere, and we both started panicking about pitch everywhere and hauled it out front.

Then Mike sawed 3 feet more off my lovely tree, which at this point was starting to look a little afflicted.

So, this morning I go to Costco and exchange the tree stand. And tonight, we have the perfect Christmas tree, in a stand with lights and decorations on it and we're not moving it until June.