# A Christmas Story



## oldmanLee (Dec 13, 2009)

If you travel up into New Hampshire,and find yourself in the town of Warner(Wana),take the old Rt.103 out towards Bradford(Bradfad).Just past the Henniker Rd.(the only Henniker on earth!)you'll see Center Road on your right.Travel down Center,crossing the wooden one lane covered bridge until you see a dirt road going up into the woods to your right.This is Cheny Rd.,and at the top of the hill on your right is whats left of the Pogue Palace,a battered old New england farmhouse and former homebase of my friend,"Namgay Doola".Namgay and I had meet up a couple of years before this story takes place,and the shared interest in things that go BOOM,compleatly polar opposite political stands,and general interest in metalworking,books,and way too much coffee ahd sprouted a friendship that was as different as it was solid.
About the year when my son turned 5,the area was going thru one of the periodic downturns of the N.E. economy(translation:everybody's broke).Being one of those weirdos that has great memories of Christmas,and stocking full of candy and oranges and nuts and some toys,as well a the scent of a indoor tree;I had resolved that my son would have a classic Christmas.To this end,Namgay and I set out one day to find THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS TREE.
Now,as it was also one of those deep snow winters up in the N.H. hills,this was no light undertaking.We packed as if we would be spending a couple of days out,including sidearms.We had spent a couple of days earlier that year hiking the sandhill area near his home,and Namgay was sure that THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS TREE could be found near enough to the roads to get it out.
We lolloped along thru the brush for a few hours,most of the time managing to walk on top of the rather thick crust,which is much prefered to sinking up to yopur waist,when we arrived at a sandpit.To those of you unfamiliar with the N.E. sandpit,it's a area that has occured due to erosion or mining of one of the local sand hills,and this one was a beauty!from a flat area where a bunch of tree stumps clustered,the side of the former hill rose over a hundred feet,at an almost verticle angle,to a sharp defined rim.The snow blanketed the whole thing to at least two feet,and there,at the very edge of the rim,practically glowing in the sun, was THE PERFECT CHRISTMAS TREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well,when perfection is found,especially when it's almost 7 feet of glory will be comming down with the spring thaw(as the cluster of broken branches,trees,and stumps at the foot of the hill showed),what else can we do but reach out for it?The wall of the slope being a bit steep to climb,I left my pack with Namgay,and acsended the hill from the back side.On reaching the tree,it proved th be everything we had hoped for,and was soon chopped free and slid down the slope to Namgay,along with my woodsknife.It was then that A POOR DECISION WAS MADE.
The slope was indeed a bit too steep to climb up,but it struck me that perhaps it was not too steep to climb down.I carefully slipped over the edge,cleating my boots firmly into the crust,and began to work my way down.As would happen a root caught on my jacket,and I paused to snap it free.
Timne elongates under certian circumstances.The root was apparently the only thing that was counterbalancing an extra pound or so of me/gear/clothing and the shear strenght of the snow crust.When I snapped that toothpick size root,the crust let go.The next thing I know,I'm on my back.The next thing to regester is I am moving VERY FAST.The next thing was I was headed right for a rather large stump with all sorts of protruding branch stubs,which all seemed to be aimed right for my crotch,VERY FAST.Somehow,one of my feet(both were in the air)came down,contacted the snow,and sent me off to the side.My velocity was such that when I reached a small hillock of snow,I slid up the hillock,cleared the top by 4-5 feet(Namgay will attest the truth!),slid back down the hillock and slowly spun to a stop almost at the feet of my friend.
When finally I got my breath back under control,and was able to lower my arms and legs fron the 'dying cockroach" postion,Namgay had a bottle out and I had a rather stiff shot.I noticed at that moment that his .44 revolver was in his other hand,and when I enquired,he noticed it himself.After a few more drinks,he admitted that when he saw me heading of certian evesceration/enmasculation on the stump,he had made the decision to do the merciful thing and make it look like a suicide.
What a friend.I miss him to this very day.
So to Namgay Doola,wherever you are,I'll raise a glass this season.Luck to the man out on the trail,health to his dogs,and a warm place to winter up.


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## finn (Dec 13, 2009)

Something like this happened to me in the woods too, there was an ice storm after it had snowed, and I slipped on the top of a hill which was clear of trees on one side. Given that my feet couldn't dig in, I got out a dagger and plunged it into the ice and snow. Unfortunately, I did it the wrong way, I used both hands to stick it less than a foot to the right of my waist. It was a crappy knife without a proper pommel, so the back of it cut up my hand pretty good, but worse than that, I didn't stop, I merely slowed down slightly and swung my body 180 before my blade lost grip with the surface. Instead of sliding feet first, I was sliding down head first on my back, now with my palm ragged from that stupid knife. This way I wouldn't see my death coming. Great. A stump that I barely missed by a few inches sped by my shoulder and I swung my foot out to catch it. My boot laces snagged on the bark and frayed as chips flew off, but it did the trick. I stopped carrying that knife around and learned the proper way to stop yourself on an icy slope with a knife or pick.


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## bote (Dec 13, 2009)

a noble hunt, great story. Put me in the spirit.


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