On Little Scraps of Paper

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The Christmas of the Bobsled Run

The Christmas of the Bobsled Run

It snowed before Thanksgiving. For the first time in many years, the annual Thanksgiving gathering was cancelled. There were several more snows between Thanksgiving and Christmas but by Christmas Eve, the major roads were dry and clear.

Our tradition at that time was to spend Christmas Eve in Broadwater with Norm’s family. We were living in Dawson County and had to start right after lunch to meet at the home of two elderly aunts. There we would share supper and a gift exchange. Then most of us would noisily walk the long block to the candlelight service at the Lutheran church. After church we would return to the Aunts’s house for cookies, coffee and ice cream bars.

Then the other families would return to their homes and we would travel about 30 miles up the Broadwater road to the home of my parents.

Even driving on the clear, dry Interstate, we could see that the snow cover was deeper the farther west we came however the secondary highways were also clear. We talked to several people at church to make sure the Broadwater Road was passable. We were assured that it was open all the way to Alliance but that there were some one way stretches.

It was about 10:00 p.m. when we left Broadwater. There were stars but no moon and our headlights cast a narrow beam into the darkness. As we came to the end of the graded road we encountered a “one way stretch.” The road was the width of the snowplow and the snow was piled 6-9’ high on either side. The rest of the way to my parents was a series of “one way stretches.” Every two or three miles, usually at the end of a ranch driveway, there was a wider area where two cars could pass. Had we met anyone, someone would have had to back a considerable distance so the two cars could pass.

The headlights created strange shadows as we passed between the high piles of snow. The children began to “see” images in the shadows. One thought he saw Santa, another saw the reindeer. None of them fell asleep as they usually did. It was a magical, beautiful drive.

It was later, after watching the Winter Olympics, that our older, silver tongued daughter dubbed the drive the Christmas of the bobsled run.


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