No lift lines. No lift tickets. No $500 skis, and no Texans in outfits as loud as they are. I really don't miss skiing...not a bit. Snowshoeing is the ticket for me. My shoes cost $60, and I bought them a dozen years ago. I'm confident the'll last longer than I will.
There's something special about the sounds of shoeing; a certain "snow squeak" as you make contact with the ground, a satisfying crunching, squeaking, clumping sound that soothes your soul as you wend your way through pines that are a hundred feet tall.
I got up before dawn and made a beeline straight for Brainard Lake on this fine Christmas morning. While it seems to take forever to get there, the payoff is well worth it. A total of two cars in the lot, and I didn't see a single person for over two hours of hiking up and back from the lake. Plenty of snow on the ground, temperature around twenty, and not a whisp of wind......perfect!
Like my addiction to cycling and hiking, I'm sure I need the squeak once in a while to make the rest of life bearable.
Merry Christmas to me!
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