December 25, 1915

“It looks different than the last time we were here,” du Bois commented this morning.

I laughed and rolled my eyes. A deep white blanket covered the lake, wildflowers, trees, and rocks.  “There aren’t any naked women swimming in Long Lake either,” I added.

He smiled, “I’ll remember that scene for as long as I live. However long or short that may be.” He stood up, stretched, and adjusted his drying clothes. “I’m already stir-crazy. Give me your slingshot and a few marbles.  I’ll try to shoot a bird or something for the stew pot.” He pulled the shelter door open. Reflected sunlight filled the small room and straw covered floor.

“Be careful out there,” I cautioned. He tipped his hat, and I watched him start for the lake. I took a large pot outside and packed it with snow. The bright snow hurt my eyes and make it difficult to see. Then returned inside and placed it on the stove for melted water. Streaks of sunlight continued to filter through the wall cracks making odd brilliant patterns on the floor. I concluded, Better the sun than the wind leaking in here.

Tired from the trek up here, I closed my eyes and rested for a bit. I dreamt I was being chased in deep snow. I could not move my legs and my pursuers got closer and closer. I awoke startled as du Bois pushed aside the door and said through shivering, blue lips, “I got a grouse.” His pants stayed frozen through every wrinkle.

“Anthony, you got wet. What happened? Remember, Gooding instructed, ‘The most important thing up here is to stay dry. It’s more fun that way.’”

“It’s not my fault. I skied through the fresh snow when six grouse exploded into the sky. They remained covered by the snow last night and must have felt my vibrations. It startled me, I fell and struggled to get up. They flew a short distance to a nearby tree and just sat there. I got closer and fired a marble at this one. I hit it, but it flew with the rest to another tree and I followed. My next shot hit a tree limb. Again, they flew, and I followed. Finally, I hit it again and it fell to the snow but ran around. I chased it and fell down a couple more times. I got it, but I got cold coming back. I’m short of breath too and I can’t see in here.”

“Change into dry, wool clothes. They’re warmer when wet. The cotton sucks up the moisture and chills you to the bone,” I explained.

“The only wool I have is that red union suit.” He pointed above it drying over the stove.

I pulled a pair of old wool trousers from my rucksack. “Put these on,” and started feeding wood to the stove. “All your clothes have to be dry before we start for Rabbit Ears Pass.” I grabbed another pot, packed it with snow and sat it next to the first one on the stove saying, “The grouse will taste good tonight.”

“Julius, I can’t untie my boot laces. They’re frozen.”

“Stand close to the stove.  Here, up on this wooden box to get closer to the fire box.”

“That boiling water would loosen them up and make my toes feel toasty.”

“No Anthony, it will make your boots wetter. If we freeze, we die. All our clothes need to be totally dry before we trek to the Rabbit Ears Pass Road. I’m guessing it is about six miles as the crow flies. I walked it in the summertime and fished the lakes. The route weaved around them, so it’s more like seven or eight miles to the highway summit.”

I grabbed a pencil and started prying on du Bois’s laces. The ice popped off in long twisted pieces and sizzled on the stove foot. Steam rose from the front of his trousers. Finally, I had his boots off, and he rolled down on the straw floor.  With difficulty, his frozen fingers loosen his belt and suspender buttons. I pulled his trousers off by the cuffs. They were rigid. I lifted them like a board and pointed the waist at him.

“Anthony,” I pleaded, “Don’t get wet and frozen again.”

“Alright, alright, gees you’re worse than my mother. Hey Julius, what do you get when you cross a snowman and a vampire?”

“I have no idea.”

“Frostbite.”

I smiled and replied, “Not funny.”

“Come on loosen up. Tell me a joke.”

I looked at his jovial but frosty face and could not be angry. “What kind of pants do clouds wear?” I asked.

“I don’t know, maybe thunder-wear?”

“Yes! How did you know that?” I laughed.

“Just a guess.”

“What a pair we are.”

We spent the rest of the day inside the shelter, asked riddles, told jokes, dried clothes and slept. The grouse plucked and cleaned easy. Then we opened cans of green peas and peeled potatoes for a savory evening stew.