Who's Afraid to Ride Down The Bank of This Wash
03/16/08 10:40
This was written by Annie about 1967.
Who’s afraid to ride down to the bottom of this wash? This was a challenge offered to the occupants of the bobsleigh by the driver, Mark Chamberlain.
Who’s afraid to ride down to the bottom of this wash? This was a challenge offered to the occupants of the bobsleigh by the driver, Mark Chamberlain.
This was written by Annie about 1967.
Who’s afraid to ride down to the bottom of this wash? This was a challenge offered to the occupants of the bobsleigh by the driver, Mark Chamberlain.
The night was clear, cold and bright. The snow was packed and frozen and the heavy cork shoes on the horses hooves often struck fire as they contacted with the icy road. In the wagon box, fastened -- not too securely -- to the sleigh runners was a bed of fresh or rather unused straw, covered over with heavy quilts. Eight happy, carefree boys and girls sat on this soft cushion and were tucked in warmly by more quilts and a beautiful black and white fur robe. One would never guess that the covering rug was one of Father’s big cows. After her death, he had had the hide tanned and made into the robe with a beautiful red and black simulated fur material for lining.
The riders were: Hans Chamberlain with a grade school teacher, Myrle Shipp; Guy with another school teacher, Miss Allen, Frant Esplin,; Annie Chamberlain; Sally Heaton and the proud owner and driver of the high spirited, quick stepping, white faced horses, Mark Chamberlain -- Sally’s escort.
This wash running East and West through the upper part of Orderville was about twenty feet deep. The banks were sloping to the bottom of the wash, where the cows had made a trail up and down its banks. Of course, we were all game for the ride, but as we began to descent toward the bottom of the wash, the sleigh tipped and, as we reached the bottom, it settled upside down in the wash. Mark jumped as the sleigh capsized, as did most of us.
Who’s afraid to ride down to the bottom of this wash? This was a challenge offered to the occupants of the bobsleigh by the driver, Mark Chamberlain.
The night was clear, cold and bright. The snow was packed and frozen and the heavy cork shoes on the horses hooves often struck fire as they contacted with the icy road. In the wagon box, fastened -- not too securely -- to the sleigh runners was a bed of fresh or rather unused straw, covered over with heavy quilts. Eight happy, carefree boys and girls sat on this soft cushion and were tucked in warmly by more quilts and a beautiful black and white fur robe. One would never guess that the covering rug was one of Father’s big cows. After her death, he had had the hide tanned and made into the robe with a beautiful red and black simulated fur material for lining.
The riders were: Hans Chamberlain with a grade school teacher, Myrle Shipp; Guy with another school teacher, Miss Allen, Frant Esplin,; Annie Chamberlain; Sally Heaton and the proud owner and driver of the high spirited, quick stepping, white faced horses, Mark Chamberlain -- Sally’s escort.
This wash running East and West through the upper part of Orderville was about twenty feet deep. The banks were sloping to the bottom of the wash, where the cows had made a trail up and down its banks. Of course, we were all game for the ride, but as we began to descent toward the bottom of the wash, the sleigh tipped and, as we reached the bottom, it settled upside down in the wash. Mark jumped as the sleigh capsized, as did most of us.