There’s something timeless about the smell of fresh pine and the crunch of snow under your boots. Every winter, our family bundles up, packs the truck, and heads into the mountains to cut down our own tree from the Grand Mesa in Colorado. It has become one of our favorite traditions, filled with adventure, laughter (sometimes tears), and the simple joy of creating something together.
🌲 Getting a Tree Permit
Before heading out, you’ll need a permit from the U.S. Forest Service. You can buy your permit online at Recreation.gov/tree-permits. Ours cost $10.50 with fees, and it’s valid for one tree in designated cutting areas. Be sure to review the map and guidelines for your specific forest district, as each has its own rules for size limits and stump height.
🪓 What to Bring When Cutting Your Tree
If you’re heading out to find your own Christmas tree, here’s what we always pack:
- Tree permit & map (print or screenshot it before you lose service)
- Snow clothes — layers, gloves, hats, and waterproof boots
- Snowshoes — especially if you’re venturing off where the snow can be deep
- Sled for kids — doubles as a tree hauler once you’ve found your winner
- Rope or straps — to drag the tree back to your car or secure it on the roof
- Measuring tape — to make sure your tree fits both your home and permit guidelines
- Red ribbon or flag — required to tie on the end of your tree for the drive home
- Saw — electric or manual (and a spare battery if it’s cold)
- Hot Cocoa & snacks — because everything tastes better in the snow
Pro tip: Measure the tree before you cut to make sure it fits both your home and the permit rules. Leave a clean, low stump when you’re done.
🏔️ Planning for the Adventure
Before heading up the Grand Mesa, we always start at home with a little preparation. First things first — measure your ceiling. Every tree in the forest will look smaller than it actually is, and without fail, we’ve brought home one that needed a good trim. A foot or two usually comes off the bottom before it fits just right.
We try to choose a mild day that’s not too windy or snowy, usually the weekend before Thanksgiving, before all the best trees are taken. There’s typically less snow that early, which makes hiking and hauling much more enjoyable. The years we waited until December taught us the hard way — trudging through deep snow in a full-on storm with cold, tearful kids is not the magical Christmas memory we hoped for.
Preparation makes all the difference. We fill a thermos with hot cocoa and pack travel mugs for that cozy reward back at the car. Depending on the snow levels, we might rent snowshoes from REI or the local university’s outdoor program. Other times we just bundle up in snow pants and boots and make our way through the drifts the old-fashioned way.
Before we leave, I always check snow conditions on our local Nordic Cross Country Skiing Facebook group and the nearby ski resort page. It gives us a good sense of how deep the snow will be and whether we’ll be wading or gliding.
Once we arrive, the kids start off helping us “look” for a tree, but before long, they’re rolling in the snow, making angels, and pelting each other with snowballs. Some years we find a full, picture-perfect tree, and other times it’s a little lopsided or sparse. That’s the beauty of it — each one becomes part of our story for that year.
Hauling the tree back to the car always looks easier in photos than it really is. I usually wrangle the kids while my husband takes on the heavy lifting. We’ve learned over time that finding a tree close to the road is worth it. Shorter adventures tend to make for happier kids and fewer meltdowns.
🪚 The Year We Forgot the Saw
Every family tradition has its stories, and this one has become our favorite to tell. One year, after driving an hour up the Grand Mesa, we parked, piled out of the car, and realized — we forgot the saw.
That sinking feeling hit immediately. We looked at each other, laughed a little, then started brainstorming. There was a small resort about ten minutes down the road, so we decided to stop and ask if they had anything we could borrow. The kind staff handed us an old maul — basically a heavy hammer for splitting logs — that looked like it belonged in a museum. It was all they had, so we took it and made the best of it.
We hiked through the snow, found our tree, and my husband took a mighty swing. The head of the maul flew clean off on the first hit. We stood there, stunned for a second, and then burst out laughing. It was one of those moments that could have ruined the day but instead became a story we’ll never forget.
Eventually, we found another family nearby and sheepishly asked if we could borrow their saw. We hurried to find a tree, cut it down, and returned the saw with huge smiles and cold hands. The tree we brought home that year wasn’t our prettiest — in fact, it might have been our most pitiful — but it holds a special place in our hearts. It was the year everything went wrong and somehow turned out just right.
🚗 The Time a Toddler Locked Us Out
Another year, we headed up to the Grand Mesa with friends for our annual tree-cutting adventure. After finding our trees, they tucked their one-year-old into the truck to warm up while we worked together to load everything. A few minutes later, we heard the unmistakable click — the toddler had locked the doors, with the keys still inside.
What followed must have looked hilarious to anyone passing by: four adults frantically waving and pointing through the window, trying to mime instructions to a giggling toddler. After several minutes of anxious laughter (and maybe a little panic), the little one finally hit the window button—just enough for us to squeeze in a hand and unlock the door.
It’s one of those moments we’ll never forget — equal parts chaos and comedy, wrapped in cold mountain air and relief.
🎁 Bringing It Home
Back home, we set up the tree by the window and fill the room with pine scent and twinkle lights. Every branch feels like a memory from the day we spent together on the Mesa.
These Colorado trees last a long time. Even after Christmas, ours stays green for months. When we take it down, we move it outside where it remains fresh and full through March, until our city’s spring cleanup. It feels like a little bit of Christmas stays with us all winter.
❤️ The Eve of Adventure Moment
It’s amazing how something as simple as a $10.50 tree permit and a day in the mountains can turn into one of our favorite family traditions. Each year, somewhere between the laughter, the snowball fights, and the smell of fresh pine, we find a sense of calm and connection that feels like the real beginning of the holiday season.
Cutting down our own tree reminds us that adventure doesn’t always mean going far. Sometimes it’s right there in the snow — with sawdust on your gloves, kids giggling nearby, and a perfectly imperfect tree strapped to the roof. Those are the moments that stay with us long after the holidays fade, when the house is quiet and the scent of pine still lingers — the true eve of adventure. ✨
Leave a Reply