The Gallagher Adventure

Chapter 1 - Falling Snow

The flakes fell across the wood deck covering every inch. Not one flake would fall through the gaps between the wood slats; the flakes were bigger than the gaps. In a few hours all would be white.

Snow falls larger each year in this small neck of the woods. There is something about these grand mountains which causes the snow to fall gently and quickly. The old-timers say it is the winter wind winding through the valley blending with the moisture from the stream which brings such a white landscape. Whether they are true or not, it does not really matter. I have been away from this place for so long that I now long for the rushing wind and the driving snow.

The snowfalls in this place are larger than most. As the snow falls, the sound of the brook across the road give it a peaceful comfort. Sitting by the fire, I cannot hear the stream but I know it is there. The crackling of the hardwood in the fire gives warmth to this small cabin. It is amazing how one fallen tree can heat this place.

This place is my home. I never grew up here, but our family heritage dates back several generations to this small place. My great-grandparents used to own the country store. The store sat along the only road in and out of town, so everyone knew who they were. In fact, their surname is found all over this valley; from roads to churches, their legacy is known.

It was that store which my father learned of this seemingly distant land. Even though “town” is only 25 minutes away, the winding West Virginia road makes it seem further to visitors. My father grew up visiting my great-grandparents and helping in their store. The dirt road in front of the store brought a lifetime of play to my father and his brothers. Every dirt road is filled with rocks. Rocks and small boys make for an interesting afternoon. Add to the dirt and rock the small stream winding along the road and you get a picture of a day only a garden hose and bar of soap would cure.

With my great-grandparents and grandparents gone, this place is a little different than years past. The store is now an odd-looking house, the road is paved and the two red barns at the entrance to the cabin road still lean to the right. Times have changed in this small place.

Times have changed, but every year I have to venture to this little place. As I mentioned, I never grew up here, but I feel there is a legacy in this place I want to pass along to my children and grandchildren. This small cabin is nestled in these woods for a reason. It might be a simple reason, but I love to take time and get away to this retreat. The cares of the world take a brief pause as I drive the dirt road getting here. The world events take a break to the unfolding events of nature. Whether it is the doe and her two fawns crossing by the cabin in the morning or the large buck feeding in the grass in the evening, the news of the world stops. The hawks screech among the trees as the valley winds create a draft pulling them to their maximum heights. The owl hoots in the trees ate night waiting for the ground mole to peer his head out of his hole. This place is peace.

As I awoke the next morning, over three feet of snow had fallen over the night. The picnic table on the porch held every bit of three feet on it. The seats of the picnic table had disappeared beneath the snow. The fire still smoldered in the wood burner. Thankfully, I awoke during the night to place a couple extra logs on the fire or I might have had to start all over. My hindsight from years past had taught me to bring in more loads of wood than I could count when the weatherman predicted snow. Throwing a couple more logs on the fire I tightened the belt on my robe and headed for the coffee pot. As I walked over to the coffee pot, I glanced out the window to see my morning friends. Even though the snow was rubbing their bellies, mama doe and her two fawns were making their way up the hill. Stopping to observe this wonder of nature caused me to forget the cold, the snow and the time.

I was supposed to call Carrie and let her know things were ok. Carrie usually made the trip with me, but this year the thought of snow and having three children in a cabin for a week maybe longer was frightening to say the least. This year it was going to be my short trip alone.

After calling and resting assurance that everything was fine and the cabin was still warm, I poured myself a large cup of coffee and sat at the counter to read yesterday’s paper. The coffee was definitely better than the paper, so I folded up the paper and tossed it in the bin by the wood burner. Boring papers make for great fire starters. I believe boring words help start a bigger fire and help it to burn much, much longer.

Drinking down another cup of coffee, I sat down to figure out what I needed to do. You see, knowing that Carrie and the kids would not be coming, I brought a stack of papers and a pile of books I really wanted to finish reading. Taking another sip of coffee, I turned on the radio and began to sift through all the papers I needed to examine. After an hour, half of the papers sat by the wood burner for fire starters and the rest had become another stack for filing.

Within moments of creating my “take-home” stack of papers, I heard the sound of a vehicle trying to make it up the road. I knew who it was. It was the caretaker from down the road. I figure my father told him I would be up here alone and knowing me better than most, he had asked the caretaker to come and check on me during the pouring snow.

As I slide on my boots and headed for the door, I watched the caretakers jeep slide into the ditch on the side of the road. Now this was beginning to be an interesting day. I opened the door and told him I would be out to help in a minute. Heading to the back room, I grabbed my winter coveralls, wool socks, gloves and my wool hat and headed out the door.

Walking down the hill was hard enough, I could not imagine trying to drive in this much snow, but someone had to check on me. After all, what was a 35 year old city boy going to do in this pouring down snow?

After finally getting the caretakers Jeep out of the snow, he headed down the road and I headed for another cup of coffee. Grabbing the creamer from the refrigerator, I looked up to the loft and saw one of my father’s prize possessions – his bear skin rug.