We’re back! It feels like forever since I’ve had a new outing to share, what with TBG’s probably-flu and my toe aciurgy. (Aciurgy looks like a typo, doesn’t it? It’s not, though, and I am amazed that, considering my job, I’ve never heard or seen it before. If you’re ever bored thinking there’s nothing new under the sun, learn more words. No one knows all the words, and that includes you.)
Why does he say that, I ask? “Because snow is getting in the back of my boots because I didn’t wear my wool pants [because you asked me why I wasn’t wearing my cross-country pants, so I did and now snow is getting in my boots because of you.]” I showed him how to stretch the bottom of the pants over the boots, and all was right with the world once again. This is the same area we shoed last time, but today in a fit of madness, I decided we should hang a left at the gate and head uphill on the road.
It was actively snowing the whole time we were out. Snow is just rain on delay as far as getting soaked goes.
TBG has mountain biked to the top of this road, but we had no such plans today, both because of another commitment and the fact that we want to be able to move tomorrow.
[Edgy!]
It’s not actually all that easy to fall on snowshoes, but I managed to do it right after taking this picture when I stepped on my left shoe with my right shoe. It is far easier to fall than to get up on snowshoes, I will tell you that. When we were about an hour out and ready to start heading down, we decided to try to get a few shots of me coming up over a snowy roadside hill. I walked back down the road a little while TBG waited on the other side of the rise, camera at the ready. I called out to let him know when I was coming, and started up the snow bank. And promptly face-planted right into the hillside, making a lovely snow(shoe)angel. I was making this falling thing look like a cinch!
[Aaaalmost there…]
The trip back down was, of course, quicker, and we encountered other snowshoers and xc skiers and little sledding children. For the first time in many years, I had to take a snow brush to the car, and it was building up almost as fast as I could brush. A couple rangers stopped by to check our snow park permit, which we appreciated because we like to know our money isn’t being wasted.
[They’re yummy!]
It has become one of our après-ski (or shoe or hike) traditions to share a bag of chips on the ride home. I stock up on them when they go on sale and stuff them in the pantry until an activity day arrives. The last time I was stocking up, I was food-shamed by the lady behind me in line at the grocery store. She was eyeing my many chip bags when she said, “Gosh, I wish I was going home with you!” in a tone that made it clear she hadn’t seen the three bags full of fresh produce that had preceded the chips and that she wished no such thing whatsoever. I eyed her small pile of all-organic items and tried to think of a snappy retort, but instead I said something lame like, “Oh, yeah…uh…we only eat them on big hike days, they’re yummy!” I was miffed that I felt like I had to defend my groceries at all.
Today, we ate the whole bag. I regret nothing.