Although the distance from the young wife’s parent’s house to their home on the other side of town was only seven miles, the recently married couple know the ride in the cutter would be slow and cold.  The wind during the day had driven the remnants of the previous day’s snow storm into deep drifts.

Placing the heated soapstones, which had been in the woodstove oven for hours, on the floor of the cutter to give warmth to their feet, the departing visitors climbed into the seat.  Covered with quilts and the wind resistant buffalo robe they still know they’d be thoroughly chilled before too long.

Jennie the horse, had a blanket placed on her before the harness was laid on her back and secured in an attempt to keep her warm while struggling through the snow drifts which would be encountered. The bells, fastened to the harness, would alert other drivers to their presence on the road since it would be dark before reaching home.  (They also made a sound enjoyable to everyone.)

Clouds promising more snow obscured the sun, which had been shining in a blinding manner all day.  Any warmth expected from Old Sol soon was like a broken promise – non-existent.  Drifts were especially deep where cleared fields allowed the wind a long sweep across the open land to drop its burden of snow in the road.  In many areas it was easier to leave the trail and go through the farmers’ fields around the snowdrifts; always stopping to close any gate they’d opened.

Coming into town on the Grand River Trail, the Ore Creek Bridge had to be crossed.  Jennie never liked the sound her hooves made on the wood planks and often came perilously close to jumping sideways, dropping her freight into the stream.  How would she react today?  The previous day’s snow was packed on the bridge and she never knew the difference, the sound was so muted.

A horse was often given its ‘head’ when it was dark and usually stayed on the packed path.  Occasionally even they would flounder, sliding into a ravine or dropoff beside the road, spilling everyone and everything into the deep snow.  More than one horse’s leg was broken and more than one case of severe frostbite was endured following such an accident.

The clouds covered any possible light from the moon and stars; it was absolutely dark.  The deep snow muffled any hoof sounds.  Just after crossing the creek the sound of bells on another sleigh passed each other safely, the occupants shouting greeting.  It was suggested a lighted lantern might help avoid collisions in dark in the future.

Because of the lights in the windows of Stuhrberg’s Eastern House, they know they were at the corner of Grand River Trail and Main Street.  The golden glow shone through the frosty windows.  It was tempting to stop, put the horse in the barn and stay the night; but at home lanterns had to be lit, cattle and sheep to be fed and watered, the stove coaxed back to warmth-giving life and to thaw the water which was in the bucket by the sink.

Heading west on Main Street, Jennie needed no guiding; she soon found the barnyard gate and stood, not too patiently, to be relieved of her burden and led to her stall; the manger filled with hay and the grain box with ground feed.  Buckets of water were placed at her feet (after the ice had been broken from the water trough.)

Tomorrow a path through the snow would have to be cleared, sometimes on the road, sometimes through the fields, following the path of least resistance, to open the way for the post man and the milk wagon to get through- each property owner clearing to the next neighbor.  But tonight it was good to snuggle under the down comforter in warm flannel gowns and bed caps to help keep warm.

Compiled by Marieanna Bair.