I looked at my work outlook calendar in surprise. A three day weekend! I had forgotten all about Presidents Day (kind of a weird holiday anyway). Because I had forgotten, all of the Forest recreation cabins were booked, and our backcountry ski hut has been unreachable due to the surge in use due to Covid. What would we do, I fretted. Three whole days off! We had to do something!
“A staycation,” J said hopefully. “Haven't we been on a staycation for a year?” I whined. But then: a miracle. The snow began on Thursday and hasn't stopped. And it was the best kind of snow: light, fluffy, perfect. Several feet have fallen.
Spruce is buried in snow on Mount HowardThis, of course, brought all sorts of dilemmas. Snowshoe? Ski? I wanted to do all of the things!
One day we ventured up Mount Howard with two friends I haven't seen in a year. They live only 15 miles away, but haven't been wanting to meet up, even outside. In 18 degree temperatures, we skied steeply uphill. My frie..
I looked at my work outlook calendar in surprise. A three day weekend! I had forgotten all about Presidents Day (kind of a weird holiday anyway). Because I had forgotten, all of the Forest recreation cabins were booked, and our backcountry ski hut has been unreachable due to the surge in use due to Covid. What would we do, I fretted. Three whole days off! We had to do something!
"A staycation," J said hopefully. "Haven't we been on a staycation for a year?" I whined. But then: a miracle. The snow began on Thursday and hasn't stopped. And it was the best kind of snow: light, fluffy, perfect. Several feet have fallen.
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| Spruce is buried in snow on Mount Howard |
This, of course, brought all sorts of dilemmas. Snowshoe? Ski? I wanted to do all of the things!
One day we ventured up Mount Howard with two friends I haven't seen in a year. They live only 15 miles away, but haven't been wanting to meet up, even outside. In 18 degree temperatures, we skied steeply uphill. My friends had those combination ski/snowshoe hybrid things, which I've been deeply curious about. They have skins on the bottom, so you can climb easily, and you can wear hiking boots with them. They didn't glide as much as my skis did though, so I decided I can live without them. Maybe if I did more backcountry skiing, I would see their purpose.
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| I do have skis on. |
I never thought I could ski down the lower slopes of Mount Howard, but apparently I am getting better at skiing (it's about time). In our two hour tour, we saw no other people. Sometimes I wish I lived in a place with more amenities, but at times like this, I appreciate living in the outback.
We took on the Mountain View loop the next day, following faint tracks of some other intrepid skier. "Didn't these hills use to be bigger?" I asked; the loop seemed so easy. I recalled past meltdowns on the hills, which were hardly worth fussing about now. I will never be an expert skier, but years of practice can yield some rewards. On our way down the two-mile hill, we encountered some hapless snowshoers. Because snowshoers out here are often lost, we asked where they were going. "Just walking around," they said. We warned them they had about three miles to cover if they kept going the way they were; they already had three miles to hike back the way they came.
They shrugged, unconcerned. "We'll just cut up through the woods," they asserted. With trepidation we left them, hoping a rescue wouldn't be needed later.
The snow continued through the night and I realized with glee I could ski up the Hurricane Creek road. It's not always that snow closes the road, and yahoos try to drive it, inevitably trudging back down the road to ask for a shovel. When they do drive it, it messes up the ski track, which annoys me considerably. But today looked like the day, and I struck out for the trailhead, 2 miles distant. Again, nobody was around, and the snow sifted around me like sugar from the overcast sky. Once at the trailhead, I couldn't resist skiing up further, until the threat of avalanches turned me around. Feeling smug about navigating a steep trail, I headed back to the car…where it was now time to snowshoe.
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| You know it is a snowy day when I break out the serious hat and parka. |
Unlike almost everyone living here, I enjoy the mindless slog of snowshoes on occasion. I cruised along the trails, sinking deep into unconsolidated powder. As I rounded a corner on the Fergi trails, I encountered another snowshoer, uncertain where she was (we really need good maps). I showed her the loop I had stomped out a couple of times and headed back to the car. I had wanted to go to the gym over the weekend, but I had to call it. It was time to quit.
I'm tired; I need to go back to work to rest!
