Then there was the year I cut the top out of a twenty-five foot pine in pursuit of the perfect tree. Climbing my way through thick foliage and sticky branches I got within what I estimated to be nine feet of the top. Pulling out a rusty old saw that looked as if it had been handed down through several generations, I began to cut. It was hard work and difficult to measure how far I had gone when the top fell with me beneath it. I can still hear my mother screaming as I tried to crawl out from under the tree spitting out pine needles and bark.

There is one idyllic hunt that comes to mind in which my wife and I and our six year-old daughter found the perfect tree right at sunset. I remember trudging back towards my old pick-up truck bathed in the colors of a fantastic sunset as a light snow began to fall.

Last year's Christmas quest, however, beats everything to date. My son was a sophomore in high school and the youngest in the family. I realized our Christmas adventures might be numbered, and I was determined to make this one memorable. We were up early ( in teenage hours) and with a stop at McDonald's to hold him for the hour long trip, we went in search of a live tree. Of course, we missed our turn (When did they put that bypass in?), and I realized we had overshot our first target.

I reached for my trusty Christmas tree guide and found another tree ranch near by. We were now on a small, lightly traveled country road, and I thought I would get us into the hunting spirit by letting my son try out his new learner's permit. He agreed and tentatively took command of the car. We were about three miles from our destination. My son had not taken to driving enthusiastically at that time. He slowly pulled onto the road and hit a comfortable, well-controlled speed of ten miles an hour. At that pace you pick up many details that you normally miss. We passed several cows that I had the opportunity to view up close and personal: left side profile, front, right side profile. I could have easily picked them out of a police lineup. A mile can seem like forever, at ten miles an hour.

I didn't say anything at first not wanting to damage his fragile driving ego. Then I remembered that we had passed over a bridge with a posted speed of 10 MPH. I gingerly asked if he knew the speed and he answered, somewhat haughtily, that the sign said ten miles an hour and he was not going to get a speeding ticket his first time out. I carefully explained that the sign only applied to the small bridge and that he could now crank it up some. He grasped the steering wheel firmly and quickly doubled our speed to seventeen miles an hour. This he considered taking it to the edge because now we seemed to be on the edge of the road as much as the middle. I said no more.

A short eternity later I spied a sign on the horizon that said "Christmas Trees." We got out and quickly surveyed the lot but were disappointed to see mostly baby pines. My wife had given particular instructions to avoid pines if at all possible, because of their spacing and lack of branch strength. We did a cursory look and then asked if there were more mature spruces available? They pointed us down the road to a lovely old plantation that had a stand of older trees. Several people left with us, obviously in search of trees of substance. We were greeted at the next tree farm by Virgil who was to be our guide. Virgil is a strong, proud, honorable name. I knew immediately that he would give us a good hunt. He asked if we had been given the orientation. We lied, eager to get on with it and ahead of the others. He said we could wait for the wagon to take us out to the site or we could walk. We hurried down the trail. Reaching the field, we realized we were truly in a field of mature, prominent trees. White pines topped out at 25 feet or more. Almost out of our range but I was tempted by the price. Any white pine over 8 feet was only $35. Spruce on the other hand were $50 if over 8 feet tall. A tall spruce, however, was our objective.

My son and I split up to cover more ground and we both found spruces of adequate size but not legendary. The were fine ,but without distinction. I hailed Virgil and as we crossed back over the field to my son, I spied a tree that I had previously missed . It was a white pine about twelve feet in height but full bodied and with strong, well spaced branches. As I glanced at it, a shaft of light broke through the clouds passing above and seemed to illuminate this tree directly and it was then that the tree spoketo me.

It said "Wadda you lookin at?" I came to a complete stop and Virgil almost walked into me. I looked directly at the tree and once again it spoke: "Fool, I'm too big for you." Immediately my fists clenched, my nostrils flared, my eyes narrowed and my jaw pushed firmly forward. Just what I wanted, a Christmas tree not only with spirit but ATTITUDE! Slowly, I shook my head and maturity and reality sunk in. It was, after all, not a spruce. I called my son to my side for reinforcement. As he rounded thebend and saw the tree for the first time I could tell it spoke to him as well. He later admitted that it had. I asked what he had heard. Heconfided it had called him " Momma's boy." This was a "bonding moment,"and in unison we asked Virgil to hand us the saw. Working quickly, with gummy branches clawing at our coats and sharp green needles poking in our eyes and ears, we sawed through a stump as big as my leg and felled the mother of all Christmas trees. It dropped with a soft sigh and reality sank in.

We had driven the smaller car, a Plymouth Acclaim, with a backseat that dropped down allowing me to put things through the trunk into the back seat.That was my plan. This tree was twelve feet tall but almost as wide. I started to panic but assured myself that once baled, it would fit insufficiently to be carried in the trunk. We dragged our trophy triumphantly up the hill with Virgil smiling behind. Then we faced the baler and compared it to the tree. Virgil' s smile quickly changed and he began to shake his head as we all realized that this tree was not going through even their largest baler. I inquired of Virgil if they sold wife insurance. He shook his head, looking puzzled, thinking I had said life insurance. Which in this case was the same, because I knew if I got this tree home my wife was going to kill me.

Virgil started asking me question like, " what was I driving," " how far was I going" and did I have any friends that owned a pick up truck. We caught the wagon back to the parking lot and again hope and our spiritsbegan to rise. After all this was a heck of a tree. Our spirits crashed when we dropped the tree beside our car. The scene from "Old Man And The Sea" flashed through my mind as I contemplated lashing this tree to my car.This tree was not going to fit in the trunk it; was almost as long as the car and twice as wide. That's when I heard the tree again. It laughed and said "Fool, I told you." A crowd was starting to form, some laughing, most shaking their heads. My eyes were truly bigger than my car. Virgil, looking somewhat ashamed at my plight, knocked five dollars off the price and offered me all the twine I required. Thirty minutes and two balls of twine later, I pulled the last string taut and climbed in through the window. I was now driving a tree-mobile.

I waved farewell to Virgil thinking I should have gotten the tree free after the half hour of entertainment I provided for him and his customers. I gingerly wheeled out onto the country road trying a few sharp turns to
test my lashing job and tightening everything down one last time before getting on the highway. The ride back was tense but uneventful. I avoided the highway patrol by joining an Army reserve convoy. We blended right in — the car looked for all the world like a well-camouflaged howitzer. Once we got into town suspicion was avoided by masquerading as a errant Christmas parade float. My son and I waved and smiled at all the astonished onlookers.

Getting the tree beyond my horrified wife was not as difficult as the Herculean task of squeezing it through the door into the house. Eventually it was in and up. I remember the last words it said to me as I sat in the kitchen sipping a hot cup of coffee and gazing at the tree that completely filled up and spilled out of our formerly spacious family room. "Fool! You'll never find a better tree than me." Hah! The gauntlet was thrown.