Christmas tree Hunting

Christmas tree hunting is an old and time honored family tradition. There are those who do their tree hunting at the hardware or department store. I am of the old fashioned live tree hunt it in the wild yourself.



I went tree hunting with my husband's family a couple of times before we were married. Grandma went tree hunting the day after Thanksgiving. The whole family would pack into the pickup with a camper shell on the back; 8 children, 2 parents and any cousins or other strays who wanted to tag along and head out the back road to where the pine trees grow. Part of the tradition was to sing Christmas carols while bouncing along in the truck. Whoever was driving would cruise down the road while everyone looked at trees. When a likely candidate was spotted the truck stopped, everyone piled out and the fun began. When I talk about pine trees I'm talking about pinyon pine (Pinus monophylla) the state tree of Nevada. Pinyon pines have a hard time deciding if they are trees or shrubs. They can have a single stem or 2 or 3 stems. Two stems are common so when one encounters a likely candidate you check to make sure it is a single stem. Grandma's ideal tree was fir or spruce but they were unavailable so she would settle for the least bushy pinyon she could find. Pinyon trees are naturally bushy so it took some time and some hiking to find a scraggly one. Each year one was eventually found and carried in triumph home to be set in the living room in front of the sliding glass door to be decorated.



Growing up on the ranch, tree hunting was a casual affair. Most years we had a pinyon, but occasionally we had a fir. There were 2 hills within walking distance of the house that were covered with pinyon pines. My father did the tree hunting. Sometimes we went as a family, but it was optional. Years when the snow was deep before Christmas and he had started feeding cattle he would take an ax with him when he went feeding, After feeding the cattle he would walk on the hill and choose a tree to bring back with him. While I was in College, my sisters and I would take a tree back to school with us after Thanksgiving. I would grab an ax walk over to the hill and choose a tree or trees and drag them to the house. Christmas tree hunting was a simple casual affair.

These two different tree hunting traditions met and married. Tree hunting was more complicated, the trees were no longer within walking distance. My husband makes a big show of playing Scrooge and dragging his feet when its time to go tree hunting. When the children were small we would go tree hunting as a family. My husband saw tree hunting as a opportunity to do his best to get stuck or lost all in the name of exploring new country and garnering a pick-up load of juniper fence posts. In the outback of Nevada washes are used as roads. The most memorable tree hunt was when my husband decided to follow the wash from Rabbit Springs to Sheep Springs. We had bagged our tree and were on our way home the long way. Someone, a deer hunter had been down the wash before us leaving a two track trail. We followed this faithfully since the snow made it hard to see the main wash. the Pinyons and the junipers were thick and their branches reached across the wash and brushed the sides and top of the pickup. The thicker branches pushed the door mirrors in. Occasionally our passing snapped off a limb. It was a long ride with 4 small children. At any minute I expected to be stuck and I had no assurance we were on the right track. I had no desire to be stranded in the wilderness with 4 small children all night in a pick-up truck. I was mighty relieved when we emerged from the PJ at Sheep Spring. Other adventures include the year after an all day expedition scouting new country the tree blew out of the back of the pickup on the way home. We retraced our route but the tree was never found. This year I tried to talk the kids into taking their horses and going on their own to get a tree, but I didn't get much traction. We took the pick-up and had our tree bagged and back home in hour and half. This is my kind of tree hunting.

Louis L'Amour once said, "Adventure is just a romantic name for trouble". The longer I live the more inclined I am to agree with him. But without adventure I would have nothing to write about to amuse my friends.