The snow fort is waiting ~ December 28, 2000

David Heiller

Cοllin set out his plan shortly after arriving for Christmas last Friday. “What can we build?” he asked with a sly smile. He always asks that question when he comes for a visit, and he usually has an answer in mind before I can reply.

Α wagon. Stilts. A tree fort. These are past projects. What will it be this time, Uncle David?

“What are you thinking?” I asked back. Answering a question with a question is good strategy with an eight-year-old.

“How about a snow fort?” he asked with another smile.

I somehow knew that was coming. In fact, I had been thinking the same thing. But I let him lead the charge.

“Sure,” I said after a thoughtful look. “Where could we build it?”

“How about the ditch where Noah had his ice cave?”

“Good idea,” I answered. Funny, I had been thinking of that same spot.

“And maybe we could sleep in it,” he said.

“We could give it a try.” That was another thought that had been on my mind. Collin and I think alike, which is confusing to my wife. She thinks I am at least 14.

David and Collin after a fine day's
 project and Christmas dinner.

We looked over the spot and planned the attack. First, we shoveled the snow off the ground There was water under the snow in the bottom of the ditch, which is testimony to the insulating quality of snow. It wouldn’t take long for the slush to turn to ice. The temperature was four degrees below zero.

But we didn’t get cold. We were on a mission, and our important project was bigger than a little cold weather.

We made two sleeping benches, one on either side of the ditch. Collin wanted to lay down on his right away, but I told him that he had to let the snow harden for a couple hours.

For the roof, I suggested using some dimensional lumber from my lumber pile in the pole barn. We scrounged two 12-foot 2x6 boards and laid them on edge across the ditch. But that didn’t give us enough head room, so we went back for three more to lay on edge over these. I had to carry the boards, which were too heavy for Collin, who had somehow by now become my supervisor.

But the roof was still too low. So we went back for five more timbers. I carried them down and laid them flat on the other three. It looked plenty high enough.

Then we carried three tarps from the garage. We laid one on the benches. Two went over the top and ends of the fort. We shoveled snow on top and on one end. The tarps sagged with the weight of the snow, so I put another timber on top of the middle roof board and nailed it in place. Then I pulled the tarps tight and nailed a timber on top of each end roof board.

We carried three sleeping bags and two pads to the snow fort. I spread them on the benches. I told Collin he could use my bag, which is rated to minus 20 degrees. I would use the other two.

No matter what, David always told Collin 
stories in front of the fire before bed.
And there was ALWAYS a project.

For the rest of the afternoon and early evening, Collin was confident in his decision. He told everybody what we had planned, and he was met with no small amount of surprise, from his sister, from his cousins, from his parents, from my wife. You’re going to sleep outside with a weather forecast of minus 15 degrees? They thought we were crazy, although they didn’t come right out and say it.

But Collin grew quiet on the matter after supper, and during the boys’ turn in the sauna, with the temperature outside falling and the temperature inside pushing 150 degrees, his dad broke the news to me. Collin didn’t want to sleep in the snow fort.

That’s all right, I said to Collin. It’s not a problem. We’ll try it again some other time. My first instinct was to try to coax him into giving it the old college try. But I didn’t want to do that. I wanted him to lead the way, like he had done all day. You have to have your heart into winter camping for it to be a success.

I knew he felt bad for changing his mind, but I know it’s hard to camp out too close to home. The thought of a soft bed in the summer, or a warm bed in the winter, just 100 yards from the front door, is too hard to ignore.

And yes, a part of me was relieved when Collin changed his mind. It would have been fun to try, but it was fun to sleep inside too.

The day had been a great success anyway. “Process, not product,” as they say. The process had been great, for Collin and for me.

And the snow fort is still waiting...