Happy 2016, all you good people. My holiday spirit was kicked into high gear this season when I learned from a friend over in Portland about a covert operation to bring some high-velocity Christmas cheer. A single mom had recently moved into a new apartment with her two youngsters and, circumstances being on the tight side, Christmas morning this year was looking to be fairly low-key. Some friends of theirs deputized themselves as elves to fill in around the Christmas tree, then other folks heard about it and pretty soon the posse of elves grew to 26 strong. This Santa Claus network got together a bona fide heap of toys, warm clothes, winter boots, food for the pantry and other gifts. I saw the video — taken by the lead elf — of these kids laying eyes on the eye-widening pile of thoughtfulness and exclaiming, “Santa came!” The thermostat on my heart valves jumped right up.

I almost pulled the plug on going to see my family on the west side because of grim forecasts warning of terrible road conditions. The thought of hanging my stocking from my rear-view mirror while spending Christmas in a ditch beside I-84 didn’t sound great. Thankfully, my amigo Todd Kruger has no interest at all in computers — doesn’t even have an email address — so he wasn’t bothered at all by online fretting over winter travel. Todd was headed to see his family, just 10 miles from mine, so I hitched a ride. For some reason it seemed like if Todd wasn’t worried, riding shotgun should be fine.

Glad I did. My nephew Jack just turned 3 and seems to approve of this Christmas thing. I have not seen such efficient unwrapping of gifts since the last time I saw a 3-year-old tear wrapping paper from their collection of presents. I think he might have peeled the Sheetrock off the walls to see if Santa brought any 2-by-4s if we hadn’t distracted him.

I don’t want to ruin “Star Wars” for you, but I went to a late-night 3D showing with my other nephews, Jacob and Joe, and can’t keep this story twist to myself, so skip ahead if you don’t want to hear that Princess Leia has a new hairdo in this one. Why would she ever get away from the two buns over her ears? Classic look.

Todd and I stopped over to see our river guide pal Brian Murphy on the way home. Murphy is a ski patroller at Mount Hood Meadows and fixed us up with ski passes, which cost one zillion dollars a day. And I can see why. It’s a high-tech operation. Lift tickets are now little programmed cards you put in your pocket. Some robot scans your coat and a green light comes on and lets you through the gate. Todd and I couldn’t figure out what to do with these science fiction lift tickets and had to ask a stranger in a strange land for guidance.

We skied miles of trails. Caught chair lifts to other chair lifts to ski more miles of trails. It was great. Big. Fun. Wonderful. Exciting. Still, every time we got to talking with someone on the chair ride up the big wonderful high-tech mountain, Todd and I ended up telling whoever it was riding with us about our little ol’ hill back in eastern Oregon and how they should really come out and ski Fergi. I think a few of them just might.

Happy 2016, y’all. May The Force be with you if you get a new hairstyle this year and may you rip into the good things of 2016 like a 3-year-old opening presents.

Jon Rombach is a local columnist for The Chieftain.