My Snowshoes

They looked so nice and shiny leaning against the wall of my den. I felt like Sergent Preston of the Yukon. “Ho King! On you huskys!” I saw myself rushing into the log cabin and saving the fair young damsel from the clutches of Black Bart. “Curses! Foiled again!”

I carried her off into the sunset on my brand new Vermont Tubbs 10 x 56 inch Alaskan trapper snowshoes.

It really doesn’t take too much to stir up my imagination. It’s the simple things in life that please me the most. I promised myself that at the very first snowfall, I’d give them a real tryout. Until then, I had to be content with walking around inside the house for practice.

I did pretty good through the hallway and into the living room. It was turning the corner from the dining room into the den where I got into trouble. Wives have a tendancy to throw cold water on any really important project. It was just a small scratch on her old feudal oak table leg anyway. Luckily I didn’t hurt my Alaskan trappers in the process! Reluctantly, I put them away and waited.

My first chance came one blustery day in early November. A heavy snow was falling and by evening there was about four inches on the ground! The kids were headed out to the hill for sled riding!

“How ‘bout it gang? Do you want ol’ Dad to go with you?”, I asked. This would be a good time to try out my “trappers” and impress the family at the same time!

“That’s ok, Dad. You really don’t have to.”

I was hurt to the quick! “Just kidding,” I said. I managed a weak smile.

After they left, I slipped out into the back yard and put them on. Pure joy! Exstacy! Effortlessly, I clomped over the snow! Now I could see why no instructions came with them. You just sort of slid your feet along and the snowshoes did the rest! No more struggling through waist deep snow when I went hunting this winter!

My inhibitions relaxed a little as I ventured out front, toward the street. There’s one nice advantage about living in a small village. They don’t plow the streets until spring.

My next door neighbor was out shoveling his walk. I suppose every village has it’s own type of kill joy. They sure do know how to spoil it for everyone else, tho!

I stomped proudly by, on my way to the hill. “Hey Nanook! How’re things up north?”

I paid no attention. “Nothing but plain old petty jealousy!” I thought, as I continued on my way.

I crossed the flats toward the hill. The snow was heavy on the pines. I half expected a gigantic polar bear to come charging at me. I climbed the hill and looked down over the village. I knew how Thoreau must have felt on his nightly sojourns from the village to his cabin at Walden Pond. “I went to the woods, because I wished to live deliberately, to front”...My thoughts were interupted by the voices of children sliding on the hill.

“Look out!” A toboggan, loaded with four young boys came rushing down the hill toward me! I made a quick move to get out of the way. My left shoe was caught under the right one. I froze in my tracks!

The toboggan thundered past, just missing me, as it slid over the rear tails of my brand new snowshoes! My heart was still pounding, as I moved out of the way of further injury. I made a quick inspection for damages. I was heartsick.. A huge gash, about a quarter of an inch deep, ran completely across the backs of both shoes!

I know you can’t keep something brand new forever, but what really made me mad was that it looked like they did it on purpose!

Sadly, I trudged slowly homeward. Back inside, I tenderly wiped off my damaged snowshoes with the same loving care a mother would take in soothing her little ones hurt. Gently, I hung them on the wall of my den.

It’s really a shame. Some day a huge snowfall is going to cover the whole area. Then, they’ll come to me and plead with me and my snowshoes to help save the village.

But then, It'll be too late! I’ll refuse!...

They asked for it!..................

- George Volgstadt