Adventures of Pudge

THE BLIZZARD

It was the day after Christmas. Pudge and his parents were in their car heading for a cabin they had rented for a week in

northern Maine. Mrs. Hammond had answered an ad that had appeared in their local newspaper which said, “Snug winter

cabin for rent, on lake, near all winter sports.” When she called to inquire she talked to the owner and, after a brief

conversation during which she was given more information, made the decision to rent it, sight unseen. “Let’s hope it’s as

good as it sounds,” said Pudge’s dad when Mrs. Hammond informed him what she had done.

In preparing for the trip they had loaded the car with snow shoes, skates, and sleds in addition to warm winter clothing,

all the blankets they could round up, and what seemed to Pudge enough food to last a month.

“You never can tell what we will need,” said Mrs. Hammond. It’s best to be prepared for anything and everything.”

Late that afternoon they arrived in Ledford, the small Maine town where the cabin was located. Mr. Hammond stopped

at the post office to get directions. Mrs. Quigley, the postmistress, was quite helpful. She gave him directions and also

suggested he contact a local farmer, Mr. Greenwell, who had a truck with a plow attached. “You’ll find that Winkle Pond is

covered with snow right now, after last week’s snow storm,” she stated. “Walt has cleared the pond before and knows what

he’s doing.”

The directions proved to be accurate and within a short time they arrived at the cabin. They were delighted with what

they saw. The cabin was set back from the road about 100 yards and, as they had been told, was close to a large, snow-

covered pond. The inside of the cabin was also a pleasant surprise. Mrs. Hammond oohed and aahed several times as

they explored their new temporary home.

There were three small bedrooms, a large kitchen, and a large living room with an attractive stone fireplace. Each room

was neatly furnished with old, but sturdy looking furniture. The living room opened onto a huge back porch which looked out

over the pond. At one end of the porch was a large stack of fire wood, already cut to size for the fireplace. Under the porch

was an even larger supply of uncut logs. The only saw in sight was a large buck saw hanging on a nail under the porch. “It

looks like we’re going to get some exercise cutting fire wood,” said Mr. Hammond.

Pudge and his dad each grabbed an armful of wood from the porch and deposited it next to the fireplace. Soon, Mr.

Hammond had a cheery fire blazing. The fireplace proved to be a good one, with a good draft; in no time the cabin was cozy

and warm.

Next morning the Hammonds woke up to a crisp, clear day, a rarity for Maine mid-winter. Pudge was eager to go

skating. As soon as breakfast and morning chores were finished Pudge suggested they call Mr. Greenwell to see if he

could plow the pond that day. His dad agreed; the two of them drove to town to find a telephone. Mr. Greenwell agreed to

come out that afternoon with his plow.

Shortly after lunch was finished Pudge saw an old truck drive into the yard. A man about the same age as Pudge’s dad

walked up to the door. “Hi, I’m Walt Greenwell, your dad talked to me about plowing the snow off Winkle Pond,” said the

man when Pudge went to the door.

“Let me call my dad, he’s around back cutting fire wood,” Pudge replied.

“Let’s just walk around there and talk to him,” was Walt’s answer.

When they approached Mr. Hammond he was stacking freshly cut fire wood on the porch alongside the other wood that

was already there. Mr. Greenwell introduced himself and told Pudge’s dad that he was familiar with the pond and had

cleared it of snow once before, several years ago. “Once it’s cleared you’re going to have all the youngsters in town here

with their skates,” he said.

“That’s okay, it will give Pudge someone to play with,” replied Mr. Hammond. “As long as they leave room for the adults

to take a turn or two around the pond.”

With that they wandered down to the edge of the pond where Mr. Greenwell showed the opening through the trees that

led from Winkle Road to the pond. “That’s the road to an old boat launch. I can drive the truck through there onto the pond,”

he stated.

“Won’t the truck fall through the ice?” asked Pudge.

“No, by now the ice is about two feet thick. It would take a lot more weight than my truck to go through,” was the

response.

In about two hours Walt had driven his truck back and forth several time across Winkle Pond, each time clearing a wider

swath through the snow which covered the ice. When he had cleared a section about half the size of a football field Mr.

Hammond suggested that would be enough. Before Walt left Pudge asked if there was a nearby hill where they could use

their sleds.

“About two miles up Sandy Hook Road is a hill all the local folks use,” he replied. “You’ll be made welcome there,

especially after the kids find out about the skating on the pond.” Sandy Hook, Pudge remembered, was the last road they

had driven on before turning onto Winkle Road.

For the rest of the afternoon Pudge and his parents spent the time skating. They were all excellent skaters and took

turns playing tag, or a makeshift game of hockey.

They used a broom and a tennis ball they had found in the cabin. Hockey was one game at which Pudge excelled. As he

was much quicker than his parents he easily outplayed them. Towards late afternoon it clouded over and a light snow began

to fall.

“I hope the snow doesn’t ruin our skating,” said Pudge. “If it snows very much we’ll have to have the pond cleared again.”

“We’ll see,” responded his dad.

The next morning, when they looked out the window, more than a foot of snow had fallen. The entire countryside was

covered with a deep blanket of white. The snow was falling heavily; with the wind blowing hard snow was piled into drifts up

to two feet deep.

“It looks like we’ll have to get out the snow shoes,” commented Mr. Hammond. “If this keeps up we could find ourselves

snowbound.”

To Pudge, the idea of being snowbound sounded like fun.. When he suggested this to his mom and dad they both shook

their heads. “It won’t be a picnic being trapped here with no heat or electricity,” said Mrs. Hammond.

Mr. Hammond turned on the radio to listen to a weather forecast. “Continuing heavy snow throughout the day,” was the

report they heard.

“We had better prepare for the worst,” Mr. Hammond said. Pudge and I can get more firewood ready. Marsha, you

make sure all other supplies are readily available. There are some kerosene lanterns hanging in the shed, and I saw several

five gallon cans which might have kerosene in them. I hope so anyway.”

Mrs. Hammond made the suggestion that they round up all the containers they could find that would hold water. “I’ll fill the

bathtub too,” she said.

Pudge went out with his dad to the woodpile where, together, they worked for about an hour cutting logs into fireplace

length. The wind blew so hard that at times they had difficulty seeing. Finally, they had cut what Mr. Hammond considered

an adequate amount. When they went inside to thaw out they were practically covered with snow. Mr. Hammond got a

roaring fire going then he and Pudge stood in front of it for a time to shake off the chill from their exposure.

The snow continued to fall and soon was almost two feet deep in front of the cabin. “Let’s tackle the driveway next,” said

Mr. Hammond. “We may need to get the car out, so if we can we’ll try to keep it clear.”

This proved to be a hopeless task. As soon as they cleared a section of the driveway the wind blew the snow back into

it. “No good,” said Pudge’s dad. “We’d better save our energy for other things, we might need it.”

In the meantime, Mrs. Hammond had been busy. She had filled water containers and gathered lanterns and kerosene

cans. Extra blankets had been brought in from the car as well as all the food that had been packed in the car’s trunk. She

also had brought in their snow shoes and set them out on the porch.

“There’s no much more we can do,” Mrs. Hammond exclaimed. ‘We’ll just have to hope the storm lets up soon,

otherwise we’ll spend all our time cooped up in here.”

The snow continued all that day and through the night. Radio weather reports indicated that the storm was weakening

and should be over by early afternoon. From what the Hammonds saw they found the report hard to believe. The snow and

wind, if anything, increased in intensity and the drifts around the cabin were up past the bottom panes in the front windows.

Visibility was so poor they could no longer see either Winkle Road or Winkle Pond.

“This has to be the worst blizzard I’ve ever seen,” commented Mr. Hammond. “Let’s hope the weather forecast is right

and the storm ends soon.” Unfortunately, they were not to find out if the weather forecast continued good. About 10 A.M.

their electricity went out and with it the radio. Also, an electric water pump that delivered water from a well on the property.

“Water shouldn’t be a problem,” said Pudge’s mom. “We can always melt snow. We’d better keep a fire going so

things don’t freeze up on us.” Pudge decided this was a hint for the men to cut more fire wood. He didn’t wait for his dad but

dressed as warmly as he could and went out to the wood pile. It was bitterly cold, Pudge’s hands were soon too cold to

hold the saw. He gathered the wood he had cut and carried it to the porch where he stacked it with the wood already there.

When Pudge finished stacking the wood he glanced in the direction of the pond and wondered what it was like out there

during the storm. While looking he thought he saw something moving. He wasn’t sure but, there it was again, something

moved. Could it be a person in trouble, or an animal? Without further thought he stepped down off the porch and headed in

the direction of the pond. As he drew near the motion he had detected became more definite. Something, or someone,

was out there. What was it?

Pudge continued in the direction of the pond, at times floundering in snow up to his waist. As he approached the area

where the movement had been observed he could see more clearly. It soon became evident that he was looking at a small

deer that had become mired in a deep drift and was barely able to keep its head above the snow. The deer had to be

rescued but Pudge knew he couldn’t do it by himself. He would need his dad’s help.

Pudge turned to make his way back to the cabin and discovered he couldn’t see the cabin any more and the path he had

taken was no longer apparent. The wind had blown the snow enough to cover his tracks. How was he going to find the

cabin? If he went in the wrong direction he could become hopelessly lost. Then he remembered something he had been

told, perhaps when he was in Cub Scouts. If you’re lost, it’s better to stay in one place instead of wandering around and

getting into more trouble. He had to stay where he was, sooner or later Dad would come looking for him. The problem

would be keeping warm; it was very cold and already Pudge could feel his toes getting numb.

He decided to jump up and down to warm his feet and at the same time hope that his movement would help his dad

locate him. He also began to call out in his strongest voice, “Dad, I’m here, near the pond.” His motion startled and

frightened the deer so that it began squirming in its trappings, causing it to sink even deeper into the snow. At this, Pudge

became even more concerned for the deer and his hopes of rescuing it before it was too late. He called out again and

again and swung his arms back and forth, trying to warm up his body, which was getting extremely cold. Each time he

moved the deer reacted violently but he had to keep moving or freeze to death.

After what seemed like hours Pudge thought he heard his name being called. The wind was blowing so hard he wasn’t

sure. Then he heard it again and this time responded, “Dad, I’m here,” in the loudest voice he could muster. In a few

minutes his dad was at his side, an anxious look on his face.

“We’ve been looking all over for you. What in the world are you doing out here?”

“I saw something moving and came out to see what it was, then the snow came down so hard I couldn’t see where the

house was. I decided to stay right here until you came. I’m freezing, though. There’s a deer trapped in the snow over there,”

Pudge pointed. “We need to rescue him.”

“Let’s get you back to the house first, then I’ll tend to the deer,” Mr..Hammond replied. “You look blue and the deer can

wait.” With that he picked Pudge up and, despite Pudge’s protests, carried him back to the cabin.

Pudge’s mom had him take off all his wet, cold clothes and stand in front of the fire while she got some warm, dry clothes

for him to put on. Soon Pudge began to feel the warmth as his mom put a warm sweater and ski pants on him. All except

his feet, they felt like two blocks of ice. To remedy this Mrs. Hammond massaged his feet until Pudge felt some warmth in

them. She also held a bowl of hot soup for him and helped him to eat it, a slow spoonful at a time. “It helps to get the warmth

inside you too,” she said.

In the meantime, Mr. Hammond had taken a shovel with him and gone back out to see what he could do about the deer.

He returned in a short time with the news that the deer seemed to be okay. “ I was able to free it. It probably suffered more

shock from being close to people than from its ordeal in the snow.”

By mid-afternoon Pudge felt more like his normal self. His feet no longer felt like blocks of ice and he no longer shivered

every time he tried to move.

“People have to be very careful when they stay out in cold weather that they don’t get too cold and have their body

temperature drop,” his mother said. “It’s called hypothermia. People have been known to die from it; you probably had a

touch of it.”

Apparently, the weather forecast they had heard that morning was right. Late that afternoon it stopped snowing and the

wind died down. Mr. Hammond was happy to see the weather had improved. “If it stays like this we should be able to shovel

our way out in the morning,” he exclaimed.

When they awoke the next morning they were disappointed to see it snowing again. “It looks like it’s coming down even

harder than before,” said Mr. Hammond. “I didn’t think that was possible. After breakfast I’ll see if I can get out to the road

on snowshoes. Perhaps there will be some sign of life out there.”

As soon as breakfast was finished Mr. Hammond went to the back porch and strapped on a pair of snowshoes. He then

started working his way around to the front of the cabin, sinking to his thighs on almost every step. In about ten minutes he

was back inside. “It would take an hour to reach Winkle Road,” he stated. “We’ll have to wait until it stops snowing and then

try again.”

Pudge had been given the task of keeping them supplied with firewood, so twice that day he went out to the porch and

cut more logs to size. Mr. Hammond kept the kerosene lanterns full and made sure their water supply was always plentiful.

Fortunately, together with the fireplace, the kitchen stove provided enough heat to keep the cabin temperature at a

comfortable level. It was connected directly to a large tank of fuel oil near the back porch. They had tried letting the fire in the

fireplace go out for a little while but soon found that unless they had both sources of heat going the cabin soon was too chilly

for comfort.

By mid-afternoon the snow had again stopped falling. The countryside was a winter wonderland. The trees all had

snow-laden branches; some of the lower branches were completely covered. Except for the trees all they could see was a

blanket of white that covered all the tracks they had made on previous ventures outside. Pudge was fascinated by the

beauty of everything.

Mr. Hammond again went out with the snowshoes. In a few minutes he was back at the door asking Pudge to get his

snowshoes and come with him. “If we sidestep with our snowshoes we can pack down the snow enough to make a track out

to the road. That way we will have made some contact with the outside world.”

Pudge soon got the knack of sidestepping but found it very tiring. His dad made it out to Winkle Road before Pudge

was half way there. “Rest a while, we’re making good progress,” Mr. Hammond called out. “I saw a snow plow coming

towards us on the road; I’ll let them know we’re okay.”

Next morning they awoke to another sparkling, clear day. A brilliant blue sky shone down on an expanse of white

extending as far as Pudge could see. He was overwhelmed by it all. Winters in Wayton always had snow, what Pudge had

thought was a lot of snow, but he had never seen as much snow as he could see now. Every tree had garlands of snow

hanging from it. Pudge went outside and looked back at the cabin; it looked like a fairyland. He ran back inside and asked

his mother if he could take some pictures with her camera. “It’s so beautiful out there, I hope it will show up in the pictures,”

he excitedly told her.

While Pudge walked around taking pictures of everything in sight his father came out to join him. “It’s beautiful,” Mr.

Hammond stated. “But all this snow means a lot of work for us. We have to shovel our way out of here.”

The next two hours were busy ones. Pudge and his dad shoveled the driveway clear all the way to Winkle Road. When

they reached the road it took a half hour of hard shoveling to break the snow left behind when the plow cleared Winkle Road.

That afternoon they were able to drive the car to the sledding area on Sandy Hook Road. Their ordeal was finally over

and they could take time to play. The snow was so deep on Winkle Pond that any hopes of clearing it again were

abandoned. Pudge and his parents had to accept that situation but the sledding on North Hill, as it was called, more than

made up for the lack of skating. They enjoyed the sport and, at the same time, met quite a few of the townspeople, including

several Pudge’s age.

The following day electrical power at the cabin was restored and their lives returned more or less to normal. The bath

tub and other water containers were emptied, kerosene lanterns and containers were returned to the shed. Pudge and his

dad cut more fire wood to replace what they used during the blizzard. When all the chores were done they still had time to

play in the two days left before their rental time was up.

At the end of that time all were in high spirits; the gloom that had settled in during the storm had gone away. As they

packed the car to prepare for their journey home Pudge suggested they come back next year. “We had fun, didn’t we?” he

asked. Mr. and Mrs. Hammond agreed.