The tradition began in 1956, when our volunteer fire chief discovered a cache of contraband fireworks seized in a raid and petitioned a county judge for permission to explode them. Over the next few years, a parade and a pancake breakfast were added, and the event has been recast as the only fundraiser our volunteer fire department is likely to see from one year to the next -- and if you can't imagine what the department does with the money, where have you been lately? Do the words HI MEADOW FIRE ring a bell?
The good news is that up here, your donation goes a long way. I happen to have been in earshot the night our current chief, Emery Carson, personally petitioned the board for "a much bigger fireworks finale" and "thicker ham slices at the pancake breakfast." As you read this, both these requests have been filled.
Should you decide to come up here instead of lolling on some loft-top hoping for a nice view, here's what you can expect:
· A climate ten degrees cooler than where you are right now, in a vista dotted with elk, deer, mountain ponds and rural redneck splendor.
· A ham-heavy pancake breakfast served by me and everyone I know, in the beautiful '50s-utilitarian firehouse. Margarine and syrup in plastic tubs! Taciturn yankee conversation! No annoying raffle-ticket salesmen to interrupt your meal, because this year, no raffle!
· A parade, starting at 10:15 a.m., probably led off by two mysterious blond men on rollerskates, who appear every year with their hockey sticks, but no one knows who they are. They'll be followed by shiny fire trucks from every local district -- and this year, in the wake of the wildfires, these men and women are heroes, yet they are the ones flinging candy at you! Last year the fire trucks were followed by forty Christian bikers and an afterglow of heathens on Harleys, and the rear was brought up by countless neighborhood children on bicycles, many throwing Sweet Tarts or wielding water guns. Indian Hills has just one blacktop road, and damn it, we like to make the most of it.
Next begins a lazy afternoon, which you may feel free to punctuate with a trip to Mount Falcon Park for mountain-biking, hiking or lying around in an alpine meadow. Just make sure to get back down to one of ours before 8:30 or so, which is when the traffic gets heavy. You might as well spread out a picnic blanket in a prime spot to see the LOUD, BRIGHT, GENEROUS and MAGNIFICENT fireworks that usually begin around 9 p.m. and end who knows when? As a matter of fact, Indian Hills is the only foothills community left that dares to explode fireworks at all, let alone ones of this magnitude.
Is this not old-fashioned fun? Were our founding fathers not thinking of EXACTLY THIS? Come and find out.
