Top This, Griswold

We're kicking off our fun old fashion family Christmas by heading out into the country in the old front-wheel drive sleigh to embrace the frosty majesty of the winter landscape and select that most important of Christmas symbols--Clark W. Griswold, Christmas Vacation.

We enjoy a similar tradition in our family come the holiday season. Every year we venture out into the countryside to find the perfect Christmas tree. This past weekend we joined a three-car caravan that included my brother-in-law's family including my nephew's girlfriend; my son and his new wife; and me and Wendy.

It had rained hard through the previous night, something that didn't concern me initially as we rolled over paved roads to Manchester where we gathered for breakfast at the Whistlestop Cafe. While there, my daughter-in-law Lindsay warned that treacherous icy roads awaited if we ventured off the safety of the paved highway.

Pshaw! My brother-in-law Randy and I are both seasoned drivers of the north country. We have been braving Michigan's wintry roads for more years than my young blonde, daughter-in-law has been around. So after a leisurely breakfast--maybe too leisurely as my nephew Bill had to play percussion at a University of Michigan event in the afternoon--we hit the road again.

Randy led us all, winding into the countryside. Once the pavement ended, the roads did get a little slushy. Then, a little icy. Then, a LOT icy. Still, even when the roads were covered with a frozen glaze two inches thick that caused us to occasionally fishtail, we made uneven if steady progress.

Luckily, there were no other fools, er drivers on the road for us to collide with as we weaved our way towards Hillside Farm, our ultimate destination. We were doing just fine. Just one more obstacle left to cross before we arrived--the hill that gave the farm its name. My brother-in-law's small SUV almost made it to the top, nearly in view of the farm. Our mini-van made it about a third of the way. Neither of us could make it a foot farther if we had pressed the accelerator to the floorboard. And, yes, I tried.

The road by now resembled more of a bad bobsled run than anything traversable by conventional means (see picture below). Luckily, my son Greg riding behind had four-wheel drive. We would figure something out. But when I looked back, Greg had turned around and reversed course out of sight. Maybe to get help? Not likely if I know my own son. So my brother-in-law and I separately backed down the hill, somehow got turned around, then headed back the way we came.

Since the Xmas tree farm was off a major paved highway, we just back-tracked and went the long way. Well, my son and I went that way. My brother-in-law took what he said was a short cut. Took us a while but we finally all rendezvouzed at tree farm at about the same time. Now we had to really rush since Billy's performance was just a few couple short hours away. We had our tree cut and on the wagon faster than Charlie Brown picked out his tree in Charlie Brown's Christmas.

After a quick trip to the warming barn to pay for it all and spending a minute admiring all the beautiful Christmas decorations inside, we double-timed it back to our vehicles. My brother-in-law Randy rounded a corner towards the parking lot, wishing the farmhands a merry Christmas and saying he'd see them next year. The employees' responded with a puzzled look.

"Randy, don't you want your tree?" we asked. All our trees had been baled and were standing there by the shed.

Maybe he wanted to go through this all again another day. Some Christmas traditions you just want to enjoy over and over.