Epic Snowshoeing

In keeping with the title of my blog, I decided that I would try to share my snowshoeing adventure from yesterday. The only word my friend could used to describe it was epic, and while that's not a word I'll use lightly, I thought that it seemed perfect. Our adventure started small, neither of us being an experienced snowshoer. I've had mine for a year and until yesterday they never left my front yard. He hadn't been on snowshoes since he was 8. So, I picked an easy trail, we got some elevation and a great view of a lake up in the mountains. And then we got creative. Running off the high of achieving our goal so quickly, we decided that we should summit the mountain we'd been climbing. It was only another 1.5 miles, how bad could it be? Well, anyone who's hiked in New England will know the answer to that question. Whoever built these trails must have thought that the best way to get up to the top would be straight up, and as I've discovered on rainy hiking adventures, those trails usually follow water drainages. While this wasn't a problem in the winter, we instead had trails that were made even steeper by all the snow fall we've had and trails that would be mildly hairy and exciting in summer, became downright sketchy. But we were determined once we began, neither of us being the type to back down from a challenge, or listen to reason, apparently. Well, we made it, after several sections that required taking the snowshoes off and climbing precarious vertical snowfields, and as you might be able to tell from the picture, turned around to head down after the sun had set. Cloudy night, light snowfall, but thankfully warm, we had a great combination of luck, and my route finding ability by feel--on my butt, sliding down to cover ground more quickly--we made it down relatively quickly and safely. Lesson learned, next time pack a headlamp and stove, as well as extra layers just in case a night on the mountain becomes necessary. Luckily, we were both able to keep the panic at bay and even laugh as we slid down the mountain, using the distant snowmobile lights as our guide and have agreed to tackle another 4000 footer next weekend. At least this time, we'll be prepared. I do have to say though, I love the exquisite tiredness that follows days like that, and a plate of spaghetti becomes the most amazing thing ever. And surprisingly, I'm not sore. I guess I'm not that old after all :)