I entered my first writing competition! It had to be under 750 words and the theme was “youth”.
The air was thick and heavy with falling snowflakes. Each inhale coated my throat with frost as my Father pulled the sled up front. I was its cargo. Every step he took slid me a foot forward. As he trudged through waves of snow, I could only watch his effort. His breath. His strength. The sky was so white and bright that it seemed like heaven. If we stopped moving forward, it certainly would be heaven. In these temperatures, winds, altitude, and wilderness, stillness was not an option. My Dad’s silhouette, along with sporadic batches of green pine trees were the only objects in view. All else was white.
At just 3 years old, I was too small to hike in the deep snow, my Dad too impatient to wait. The sled was easier for both of us. Between my legs lay a water jug and a bag of of groceries. I sat at the back, surfing my hands across the snow on either side of the sled, tiny snowbanks piling up on my mittens. The water jug felt good between my legs. Two heavy objects pushed the tail end of the sled down, the front rising up like a bicycle doing a wheelie. My Father riding out front.
Our home lie waiting just a mile ahead. An old mining cabin at nine thousand feet in the Rocky Mountains. Its walls were stacked logs filled with old carpet as insulation. No electricity, no running water, no warmth. He’d need to build a fire on arrival for the both of us. But first we needed to get there. One step at a time. One pull at a time. One slide at a time. My upper-body swaying back with every step he took.
As my Father pushed forward, the final descent awaited ahead. A steep hill that ran down a meadow with trees sporadically placed throughout and a wall of pines at the end.
“Riv, you ready to sled down the last stretch? My father asked.
“Yes! I replied. Sledding was a favorite activity of ours. The speed, the exhilaration, the race. He pulled me out in front, bent down and gave me a running start. Slow at first, but the acceleration picked up quickly and I was off to the races. The wind whipped my face, but excitement was the only thought in my mind. Gaining speed, I raced downwards.
As I neared the bottom, we both realize that I was headed straight for a tree. Moving at a fairly rapid, it was clear that impact was eminent.
From behind, I heard my Father scream: “Riv, BAIL! BAIL! Without hesitation, I tossed myself over the side, snow and ice exploded around me as I hit the white powder. Snow engulfed me entirely; eyes, ears, and mouth completely filled as I dug my way out. Once surfaced, I looked over and saw that the sled had indeed smashed into the tree, jugs and groceries lying everywhere. My dad laughing hysterically in the background.
“HAHA Nice one, Riv!”
After clearing the snow from my eyes and nose, I joined in the laughing, my body shaking from the close call. Trees were hard and I was grateful that I had abandoned ship. He joined me at the bottom, re-situated the sled, and we continued our journey. Back in my original seat, my adrenaline pumped at full speed. Arms and legs shaking, my mind was at full alert. Fully awake.
Reaching the cabin, we unloaded and started a fire, still full dressed in our snow gear and giggling about the close encounter. Then we had ourselves a snack and settled down for the night. That was enough fun for one day.
I love this story! By the way, did you know Kiera is thinking if moving to Spain some time? Y'all should make contact! I'll message her # to you if i have it.
Great story! So glad you survived!