Border Patrol Stories
Snow Bound
By John A. Kalabus, U.S. Border Patrol Session 130
By John A. Kalabus, U.S. Border Patrol Session 130
The winter of 1986–87 was a cold one, with lots of snow across the Northland. In the small town of Malone, New York, there was a tiny Border Patrol station with only six agents, including the PAIC, stationed there. One winter midnight shift, I was the only Border Patrol agent on duty within 50 miles. I was taking a break at the Trout River POE, drinking coffee and chatting with a couple of Immigration Inspectors, when I was notified that one of our motion sensors had been triggered. It was a sensor located far back in the woods, where an old abandoned logging road crossed the Canadian border. This spot was well known to us as an illegal border crossing point.
“Well, duty calls,” I told the inspectors as I took my warm coffee and went out into the cold. About ten miles down a snow-covered back road led to the entrance of a one-lane, narrow two-track logging road. It was about five miles down through the dark and snowy woods to the sensor. No other vehicles had been down the old road before me. The snow on level ground was at least a foot deep, with drifts piled considerably higher. I drove the Dodge 4-wheel drive, plunging and plowing through the snowdrifts.
I had about a mile to go when—whoomph! The tires spun, but the Ramcharger was going nowhere. I was stuck in a snowdrift four feet deep. It was 3 a.m. There was no help within many miles, and even the radio was unreliable in that spot. The snow was deep, and the temperature was 20 degrees below zero!
I had a shovel and an axe in the car. Nothing else to do but get to it. I started digging out.
Slowly, little by little, I dug snow. I cut evergreen branches and placed them under the tires. In spite of the intense cold, I worked up a sweat. Slowly, inch by inch, I got the Ramcharger out of the snowbank and turned around.
After about two hours of hard labor, I was on the road again. I returned to the POE to warm up and get more coffee. Whatever had tripped that sensor was on their own! It could have been a deer or just snow falling in a clump off a tree branch.
Later that winter, I saw some snowdrifts that covered the electric utility lines. Some roads were impassable and had to remain closed until the spring thaw.
“Well, duty calls,” I told the inspectors as I took my warm coffee and went out into the cold. About ten miles down a snow-covered back road led to the entrance of a one-lane, narrow two-track logging road. It was about five miles down through the dark and snowy woods to the sensor. No other vehicles had been down the old road before me. The snow on level ground was at least a foot deep, with drifts piled considerably higher. I drove the Dodge 4-wheel drive, plunging and plowing through the snowdrifts.
I had about a mile to go when—whoomph! The tires spun, but the Ramcharger was going nowhere. I was stuck in a snowdrift four feet deep. It was 3 a.m. There was no help within many miles, and even the radio was unreliable in that spot. The snow was deep, and the temperature was 20 degrees below zero!
I had a shovel and an axe in the car. Nothing else to do but get to it. I started digging out.
Slowly, little by little, I dug snow. I cut evergreen branches and placed them under the tires. In spite of the intense cold, I worked up a sweat. Slowly, inch by inch, I got the Ramcharger out of the snowbank and turned around.
After about two hours of hard labor, I was on the road again. I returned to the POE to warm up and get more coffee. Whatever had tripped that sensor was on their own! It could have been a deer or just snow falling in a clump off a tree branch.
Later that winter, I saw some snowdrifts that covered the electric utility lines. Some roads were impassable and had to remain closed until the spring thaw.
Snow Bound
DISCLAIMER: The views and experiences shared in this story are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of HonorFirst.com, the U.S. Border Patrol, or any government agency. These stories are presented for historical and cultural insight and have been submitted by current or former Border Patrol employees with minimal editing for clarity.
