by Wylie Dougherty
guest writer
Mil asked me to write something about snow on the Frio, 20 miles north of Clovis, where we ranched and farmed in a place called the KD Ranch. Many times during the late 40s, following WW II, we had to hitch a team of horses to a bundle wagon, an under-slung affair with four steel wheels, loaded with several tons of bundles of feed, then out in the North pasture. We didn’t have a truck that could negotiate the snow, pre-4 wheel drive, the cold was amazingly penetrating. We would dress in all of our clothes, with mackinaw coats and rubber over-boots, to try and keep the cold out—but it didn’t work. We didn’t have caps with ear flaps, so we wore our hats with a scarf tied over our head and ears. One Christmas we had to go out and feed the cattle, after a great big Christmas breakfast; after freezing our fingers and other extremities, we came back in to mugs of hot chocolate and popcorn, which made the feeding worthwhile.
guest writer
Mil asked me to write something about snow on the Frio, 20 miles north of Clovis, where we ranched and farmed in a place called the KD Ranch. Many times during the late 40s, following WW II, we had to hitch a team of horses to a bundle wagon, an under-slung affair with four steel wheels, loaded with several tons of bundles of feed, then out in the North pasture. We didn’t have a truck that could negotiate the snow, pre-4 wheel drive, the cold was amazingly penetrating. We would dress in all of our clothes, with mackinaw coats and rubber over-boots, to try and keep the cold out—but it didn’t work. We didn’t have caps with ear flaps, so we wore our hats with a scarf tied over our head and ears. One Christmas we had to go out and feed the cattle, after a great big Christmas breakfast; after freezing our fingers and other extremities, we came back in to mugs of hot chocolate and popcorn, which made the feeding worthwhile.
During the snow storms one of the dangers was coyotes who were hungry. The rabbits could run on top of the snow, but the coyotes couldn’t. So –the coyotes would chase the young calves, which also sunk into the snow. Once in a while the coyotes would nip off a calf’s tail, but the mama cows would generally save the babies, another example of the survival of the fittest.
There was always the danger of snow-blindness because of the reflected sunlight off the snow, so Daddy would cut goggles with slits out of cereal boxes, tied on with cake-sack strings, not very pretty, but quite practical. Even though we wore sheepskin mittens with gloves inside, our hands would require some thawing after a day of feeding. Those were days that I treasure, since I lived through them with minimal scarring and pain. I still marvel at all the things our Daddy knew and could do on the ranch; he was truly a jack-of-all-trades.
ALBUQUERQUE
Richard wrote about a snow fall in December of '56. I was working for the Air National Guard on the west end of Kirtland AFB, where the old Terminal is located. My route to work was up Yale to the airport. Being a farm boy, I did have chains, which I put on the Ford Convertible and started up the hill on Yale. The farther I went, the more cars were spun out, finally blocking the road at the railroad tracks, so I was forced to walk the last mile or so in the foot deep snow. So much for being prepared.
MADISON, WISCONSIN
In December of 1970 we moved from ABQ to Madison, WI in search of fortune and fame. We had been to Madison in November to be hired by the Board of Directors who then had us escorted around to find housing. It was perfect Indian Summer with the flowers blooming all around the Capitol building, near our hotel. Needless to say, we didn’t see the lawns at our new house till the following April, when the snow finally cleared. On December 29th we were to meet the moving van and unload our belongings into our new abode, but there was a foot of new snow in the driveway. Our first two purchases in Madison were two snow shovels at Treasure Island, a JC Penney subsidiary store. Since the 29th was a Sunday, our van driver told me he had no swamper to help unload, and asked if I would hire on as his helper. Imagine here I am a budding executive doing the hardest work since leaving the ranch. Before Sunday was over we had another foot of snow, which caused me to have a very sore back on my first day on the new job.
In this Arbor Hills neighborhood there were some great sled hills, so we bought a sled and a friend loaned us a toboggan. The first time to the top, my oldest son stood there with the new sled and asked “what do I do?” I said to watch the other kids, and then he went belly-down and zipped down the hill. The first winter was not bad, only 75 inches of snow. As I was driving past the sled hill one day, I saw our #2 son, Bret, surfing down on the toboggan. Later I asked him how the sledding went, he complained that he was bruised and beaten by sledding. When I told him I had seen him surfing down the hill, we all had a good laugh.
BOY SCOUTS AT UPHAM WOODS
I was asked to help with a Boy Scout trip to Upham Woods, near Blackhawk Island on the Wisconsin River in February of 1971. Our sons, who were Scouts, had just got their ice skates, but were not proficient on these hockey skates. The Scouts had flooded the volleyball court and it made a great hockey rink. Our two sons, being the worst skaters, were elected to be goalies, and spent a lot of time on their bellies blocking shots. There was a great toboggan run which kept our scouts very busy climbing up then rocketing down the icy sled-run.
One day one of the scouts came up to me and said “Mr. Dougherty, we found some skis in the barn, would you take us skiing?” This to a desert rat who had never worn a pair of skis. The skis happened to be WW II surplus, with leather bindings—no quick release here. Five boys and a reluctant adult took off, stopping every few feet to fasten someone’s straps. We skied across the frozen Wisconsin River to Blackhawk Island, which was pretty hilly. We came up on a hill and one of the Scouts asked “Mr. Dougherty, what do we do now?” As I was the only adult there I said “I would suggest you sit down on the skis and go down the hill”. Amazingly it worked and we traversed the hills, skied back across the River for Supper. The boys talked about the skiing part of the Scout camp for years. Another case of ignorance working out okay.
One of the benefits of living in Madison was the variety of winter activities. In order to avoid cabin fever you learned things to do outside…. never went ice fishing though. Since each of the kids and I had ice skates, we would go out on one of the lakes….there were four lakes in a chain through Madison. The greatest concern was crevasses that appeared in the surface of the ice, which could break a leg or a blade of your skate, if you weren’t alert.
One February we had a warming spell causing a nice rain, instead of the usual snow, which melted the snow on the lake and put a glassy finish on the ice. That day was the best skating any of us had ever seen, no cracks or holes to worry about. Our boys would open up their coats to catch the wind and just fly across the lake. You could go a mile on the best ice not made by a Zamboni. We watched some skaters take cardboard sails and just fly across the lake with the wind behind. Coming back after one of these runs took some effort as you had to go into the wind. A rare and wonderful day of skating.
One February we had a warming spell causing a nice rain, instead of the usual snow, which melted the snow on the lake and put a glassy finish on the ice. That day was the best skating any of us had ever seen, no cracks or holes to worry about. Our boys would open up their coats to catch the wind and just fly across the lake. You could go a mile on the best ice not made by a Zamboni. We watched some skaters take cardboard sails and just fly across the lake with the wind behind. Coming back after one of these runs took some effort as you had to go into the wind. A rare and wonderful day of skating.
Wylie at Mil's
----30----
for Mil's Place
Wylie Dougherty
CHS '53
12/9/13
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