Running Chick

I went for my first snowshoe of the season on Sunday afternoon. I tromped for two miles through the woods, and about .75 miles of that was spent breaking my own trail in search of the main trail. I used to know those trails so well when I was a goober - rode my bike on them, walked, rode the horse, ran. Now, I only vaguely remember which one goes where.

I set off from the homestead and headed for an old logging road that the neighbors still keep open.

Saw a few interesting things along the way.

But mostly just broke trail through the trees and brush.

I skillfully avoided this long-dead plant with nasty looking thorns.

Only to step in a hole and sink up to my thigh.

Well, shoot. That's unpleasant.

I don't have any gaiters and snow is in my boot.  Boo.  Must buy gaiters.

I was able to get out of the hole without having to roll around in the snow or take my snowshoes off (yay!).  I dig the snow out of my boot and continue on my way.  I found the trail I was searching for a short hike later.  Freshly groomed, thanks to a local snowmobibler.

I head down the trail toward the cemetery. I know I'm heading the right way because I find the little cabin in the woods.

I bumped into a local skier (dangit, there goes my solitude) who informs me that the trail to the cemetery isn't open.  I don't feel like breaking any more trail or hiking the mile back home on the road, so I decide to backtrack and see how far the snowmobile has groomed my trail. 

This means I have to hike back up the giant hill I just came down.

It doesn't look that steep in the picture, but let me assure you that it was steep.

 Thanks to my Cambelbak, I stayed hydrated.  With slush.  The tube kept on freezing.

Maybe I'll put alcohol in it next time around.

I followed the trail for quite a while, until I ran into the dreaded fork.

I contemplate whether to take the groomed portion or follow Bambi's tracks. [note: insert snarky comment comparing IQ levels of snomobiblers and Bambis]

I head down Bambi's track, confident that I'm taking the smartest route.

Until Bambi headed into the trees.

Oh well, no matter.  I knew where I was going by this point, anyway. A bit more hiking and I'm back in civilization.

And home.

The end. One hour and twenty minutes, 2 miles.