A Snowy Night

In 1976, I worked at Rudy’s Old Country Kitchen as a busboy. I made $2.41per hour, plus tips. Upon ending my shift one was Freezing night, around 9pm, I wheeled my ten-speed bike from the store room to the rear entrance. As I opened the door, I had no idea, that it had snowed over 6 inches while I was working and there was no way to ride my bike in the snow.

I returned the bike to the storeroom and then ventured out and then down the street. There were very few vehicles on the road. I walked down Big Bear Blvd that Saturday night alone but at peace. I was wearing my Sorel boots so my feet were warm, and with my down jacket, hat, and gloves, I was quite warm. I had only wished I had brought my goggles too.

I made my way about 1/4 mile to the USA gas station that was next to my high school. There I took some change from my pocket and inserted .10 cents to call home, no one answered. I ventured out and then down the boulevard, heading home which was 14 miles away in Big Bear City. I was used to riding my bike the distance, but never reckoned I’d have to walk it.

I begin to notice things on my walk, that I may have never noticed. There’s an amazing power to walking. It brings insight through realizing how steep the hills are, or the businesses that stay open at night. The other, most notable thing noticed, iOS the sound of silence. A blanket of white snow is a great insulator of sound.

Walking down the lonely boulevard in snowy silence reminded me of the time my brothers and I built snow fort. We built it at the bottom of our drive when we lived on Catalina Drive. The snowplow had somehow chosen a space in front of our house, to take all the snow from our street and pile it up right right next to our drive way. That Saturday play day was amazing. We dug tunnels and a central area we called “the Base”. When we stopped and rested inside the Base, we could hear nothing outside of our creation. The thick blanket created such a relaxing and peaceful place for us. That same peace washed over me as I continued my adventure walk towards home.

My snowy walk took me past these memorable places: Pontell’s Cabins, 7-11, Wawona Lodge, the Long Ear Record Store( and head shop), Wren drive, Roundhouse Real Estate, Alpine Sports Center and Joel’s Alpine Restaurant, Inges Antiques, Dr. Polands Chiropractic Office, Thrush Street, the Go-Carts, KFC, Summit Chevron, Summit Blvd that lead up to Snow Summit, the Sheriff’s Station, Dante’s Pizza, Big Bear Honda, Burton’s Ready mix, the Exxon gas station, Moonridge Road, the gas company, the triangle (La Montana, Captain’s Anchorage, the Bit ‘nSpur, the Triangle Market), and then Spencer’s Real Estate office.

Several cars passed me on that snowy Saturday night walk, but only one stopped right as  was coming up to the miniature golf course. It was a woman driving a pick-up truck. Her name was  Sheila and I played against her son in little league.I think he was on the Elks; I was on the Lighthouse Trailer Park team. She was a bartender at the Highlander Restaurant. She pulled over and we talked. She wanted to know what I was doing out in the snow this time of night. I shared that I got off work and couldn’t get ahold of my parents, so I decided to walk home. She said my parents were with Marty and Jon VonAh, and they were headed to Chad’s to play pool after they left The Highlander. She invited me to stay at her house. She lived only a block away on Catalina Drive. She had a son who was a couple years younger than me so I said ok.

At her house we called Chad’s and I spoke to my mom. She was ok with me staying there, and that they would come get me in the morning.

I slept on the couch and had to deal with a stinky dog that kept coming by me and breathing dog breath in my face.

The next morning she was making menudo in her kitchen for the customers at her bar. I sat down and she placed a bowl of it in front of me. It look pretty good so I started to eat it. I noticed some corn, she called hominy, and some kind of fatty meat she called tripe. I had never heard of tripe, and after ai asked her what tripe was, I almost threw up. I had no idea anyone would eat the stomach of a cow. I thought that was gross.

I was really thankful that my mom had showed up at that same time. I thanked her and her son, and then I left.

My mom asked how I was. I said fine.

I reflect on those moments now, and consider what a blessing it was to be raised in a small mountain community such as Big Bear, and how people took care of each other. I also realized that I had only walked a little over 1.5 miles. It took me over an hour and a half to get that far.

Mostly though, I can still reflect on what a wonderful time I had walking in the snow by myself, creating memories I would write about 43 years later.

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*I was raised in Big Bear Lake, California. Big Bear Lake is located about and hour and a half from Los Angeles, and is a tourist destination for all of Southern California. It was a great place to grow up.