Early Snow
The snow was about 12 or 14 inches deep out on the level, the running gear of the Model A Ford just skimmed over the top of it and in the washes and low spots it deepened causing the bumper to push snow. Such places often required that I shovel the way clear. This had been the method of travel all day since Claude Bracken, Dad, and I had left the Grassy Mountain camp that morning. Many times Claudy had made several runs at the lower spots to get through, and much extra time and fuel had been consumed traversing Agway Flats. We were now approaching the crossing of upper Mule Canyon where the terrain was even rougher with lots of little hills and dips where the snow was collected in deeper drifts making progress even slower. Heavy clouds lay overhead from whence a few flakes of snow fell silently, bringing with them a sort of twilight. We thought the sun must be setting beyond those banks of clouds.
The crossing of each draw required much shovel work and repeated runs with the Ford, but we were making progress and that was what counted. I was young and tough and problems or difficulties were all in the days work, then the engine sputtered a few times and stopped. I hadn't realized we were short on fuel, but that engine had been laboring most of the day so I guess it had done well to come this far. It wasn't like a saddle horse that kept going till camp was reached even if it took all night. I now wished for three such animals to carry us the 20 odd miles to my uncle's ranch.
I had matches in my pocket, an item that I always carried. Every knowledgeable man of this western land could be depended upon to have in his possession at all times a pocket knife and a bunch of matches. Few of them carried water very often even though the water holes were far between, but matches were easy to carry and often used. I remember that every morning I would check my match supply. There were now two choices of actions to be taken: sit around a campfire till daylight, then make the trek to Uncle Whip's ranch, or we could start now and walk throughout the night. The snowfall thickened, coming down heavy and restricting visibility to about 30 yards but I was confident of being able to lead the way.
Claudy, luckily had a bunch of gunny sacks in the rumble seat of the car, so we wrapped a couple around each foot and headed out. Our course led north until we crossed Mule Canyon, which was not too deep at this point, then east to parallel Poverty Mountain on the north. I broke trail through the snow with Dad close behind me and Claudy brought up the rear.
After a couple miles, Dad asked me to shorten my steps a little so his steps would fit easier. We were traveling through cedar trees, not real thick but growing 50 to 100 feet apart, making our way easy except for the snow. After awhile I looked around to see how Claudy was getting along but could not see him. He may have been only 50 yafds behind, but I was not sure. I asked Dad if he thought we ought to wait for him to catch up and he said we'd better.
There was a big dead cedar tree close by which I started on fire so we could warm ourselves as we waited. At the rate the snow was coming down our tracks would cover up in a short time. Even though heavy clouds covered the sky and snow was falling thickly, the whiteness and lay of the land made it possible for me to know where I was going. If this had been a rainstorm total darkness would have prevailed making night travel very difficult.
The fire increased in size till we had to move off a ways to get away from the heat. Claudy didn't show up for 15 to 20 minutes and I was thinking about back-tracking to find him when he finally hove into view. I felt like asking him what he had been doing all that time but restrained myself. After all, he was a fully grown man of medium stature and strength and should have been able to keep up easy and I was only a big kid of 14 years. He didn't offer an explanation, so after allowing him a couple minutes to warm himself, I headed out with Dad trailing in my tracks. The snow was now knee deep, but soft, so the going wasn't too hard. After another couple miles Dad suggested that we build another fire and wait for Claudy. There were good dead trees every so often from which a nice fire could be made. This time he was only about 10 minutes behind and the wait gave Dad time to rest for he was not feeling well and in poor shape to travel.
As we walked along I drug my feet some-what to break a better trail through the snow for Dad, but still the long distance was difficult for him. I kept a lookout for good trees to set on fire and tried not to travel too far without allowing time for rest and catch up. I could easily have traveled steady for I was full of vim and vigor, but those "old codgers" just couldn't pull the grade.
Somewhere in the night when we passed beyond the east end of Poverty Mountain the clouds moved on to the east, leaving a bright, moonlit sky. The temperature dropped way down, the snow developed sparkling crystals that shimmered more beautiful than a field of diamonds. The snow and moonlight were so bright that visibility was almost as good as in full daylight. The trees thinned out here leaving few places where a fire could be built to warm us. The cold penetrated our clothing making us long for those good warm fires we had enjoyed earlier in the night.
Finally we arrived at the old Alcorn home-stead cabin where there was a fireplace in which we hurriedly built a fire. Even though we got it burning good, most of the heat went up the chimney and scarcely any came out to warm us. About daylight we gave up and headed out for the last 6 or 7 mile jaunt to my uncle's place. The sun came up bright that day and melted this early winter snow down quite a lot. Our relatives were surprised to see us show up but they fed and took care of our needs. The next day Meb, my cousin, saddled up 3 horses and a pack animal along with a 5 gal. can of gas, a bed-roll and some grub to take Claudy and me back over to the Model A Ford, leaving Dad with his sister and brother-in-law for a few days. That night we rolled out the bed in 10 inches of snow by the Model A Ford. Next morning after a skimpy breakfast Meb tailed the extra horses together and headed home.
We cranked up the Ford. The snow had melted down to where it now traveled along with no trouble. I was relieved to have the tribulations of that episode behind me.