After Thursday’s short 4.35-mile snowshoe that felt like 20 from breaking trail through fresh snow, I knew I needed to return on Friday with a new plan and a better attitude.
Not that my attitude was bad on Thursday, but after I was done, I felt beat down and winter weary. That will happen in time, usually around late January, but right now it’s way too early not to make some adjustments to find more enjoyment. You know, sort of like life.
The first thing I needed to do was wrap my walnut-sized brain around the fact that snowshoeing is not a lumber, it’s not a hike, and it’s not a run— it’s its own thing. So I embraced it, like a drunk mother to an unattractive baby.
It’s a chance to mix things up, to move slower, to take in more, and enjoy the crisp air, pure snow, and near silence that the winter woods can provide. Not to mention no bugs!
There’s nothing like a mental rub and a tug in the outdoors, but sometimes I have to give my brain permission to enjoy the rubbing and tugging that Ma Nature is so kindly providing.
I also knew from seeing the Groomer Gal out taking care of business as I finished up on Thursday that the trail would be firmer, especially if I got there while temps were still in the teens and low 20s and before things warmed up. And by “warmed up,” I mean low 30s, when snow can start to become a tad mushier.
Not that I need to, but I also gave myself permission to go back to using my trekking poles, something that I KNOW makes snowshoeing way easier and provides another level of stability through unpredictable snow and off-camber groomed areas. Yet, for some reason, they have remained unused and lying in the back seat of Escape II for nearly a year.
All of these things came together on Friday morning, and I had my best snowshoe-lumber of the week, getting 5.40 miles in, and knocking over two and a half minutes off of yesterday’s average pace.
The woods were void of nearly all bird activity, with just a small group of mallards cruising on the river. There were, of course, a few deer and the occasional squirrel, but for the most part, it was silent and void of animal or human interaction. I’m not sure I heard a bird of any kind chirping the entire hike, unlike during the summer when it sounds like I’m walking through an aviary.
Later.
—BLOG NOTES—
- Reminder, this particular park and trail system grooms after heavy snows in the winter, and sets track for classic skiers. But snowshoers and walkers are welcomed on the trails as long as you’re dog-free and don’t screw with the set tracks. I’m sure if the trails were wider and one could skate ski, the rules would be different.
- Also, I realized that a few posts ago, I talked about a dude I saw getting ready to ice fish, yet in my photos, the river was VERY NOT FROZEN. This is because the river goes through a wide, lake-like area where the water is still and always freezes. That area was not shown.