A Midwinter Night in Clayton

(This is the unedited version of the article that was published in the Clayton Patch on February 8, 2011.)

This past Saturday night you may have noticed that the weather was more like a midsummer night's dream. Warm and clear, it seemed as though we were being charmed by this sublime event.

On this night, our daughter Stephanie is having her friend Natalie for a sleep over. For dinner, we decided to go out for pizza. As we left the house bound for Skipolini’s, I took note of the temperature, 70 degrees!

Wow, and this is early February?

Clayton has a unique charm like few other places. For those who live here, I suspect that we occasionally take that for granted.

I know I do at times.

But this unusually warm night under a waxing crescent moon punctuated that unique charm, bringing forth a deep appreciation for our little town.

As we pulled onto Main St. at dusk, the smell of grilled steak and garlic drifts in my open car window as we slowly inch by the crowd at Moresi’s Chophouse. A waitress, carrying hot plates of food, swerved and weaved between the outside tables full of hungry guests.

Across the street a squadron of skateboarders are gathering, planning their next set of maneuvers.

As I glance to the end of Main St., the flags atop the illuminated flag pole causes me to take note of the warm northerly breeze.

Then, my eye is suddenly drawn to a line of black Harley’s parked in perfect formation next to the Clayton Club Saloon, icy black steeds at the ready.

It’s Saturday night so the Club is hopping. The front doors burst open like the swinging doors in a western movie, as patrons move in and out. As the twin doors open, the thrumming music of the juke box spills out onto the street. The saloon is alive and the party is in full swing.

Skipolini’s Pizza is also full of parties large and small. The St. Bonaventure boys’ basketball team is celebrating their last game of the season with a win and pizza party.

Moving across the sawdust covered floors and weaving our way through a forest of patio heaters, we make our way to the back yard where dozens of children clamber over the play structure and feed the arcade games with quarters.

Parents talk among themselves as smiles and laughter breaks out among the many conversations.

Our pizzas arrives, one chicken peppernado for my wife and me and a one pepperoni and olives for the girls. As always, Skip’s never disappoints us with a pizza that borders on magical.

When the pizza and quarters have run their course, we walk out and encounter a man on horseback preparing to head home from the Clayton Club. A small group of patrons pet the horse.

Concord resident Rick Galina lives off Ayers Rd. and rides his horse “Skipper” to Clayton using the Clayton Trail System.

“I love it here,” Galina exclaims from the saddle. “I come here several times a week to visit my daughter.” “They even put up a hitching rail for my horse” Galina said, pointing to the rail in the parking lot of the club.

As I stroke Skipper’s face and neck, I can’t help but chuckle over the entire scene. Skipper nuzzles me in the chest. Then, I take a photograph Rick and Skipper in the parking lot of the Clayton Club Saloon.

I note that the parking lot contains a hitching rail for horses, several pickup trucks, one green Hyundai, a bright yellow Ford Mustang, a red BMW 530 and six Harley-Davidson motorcycles. I laugh as I walk to my car.

Hiding from us until tomorrow, the crescent moon is now below the horizon as Rick and Skipper ride away down Center St.

As we ride home too in our Ford Escape, it occurs to me that this was just a typical Saturday night in Clayton.

And it is precisely the kind of stuff that dreams are made of.