Woodsmaster Ross writes:
“I hope the snow isn’t too soft out there,” she said.
“Nah, should be fine,” I replied. “May not even need the tails on the snowshoes.” WRONG!
Ten steps into the woods and I was wishing for those longer snowshoes. Of course, the higher I climbed in the sugarwoods, the worse it got. Darn logs, boulders, small streams, and root balls were still fully covered in snow and just waiting to eat my undersized snowshoes. I couldn’t believe on April 9th I would still be sinking thigh deep into the snowpack.
Trying to stay on the ‘packed’ trail along the main lines wasn’t any easier. The old snowshoe tracks had compacted and formed dense frozen islands surrounded by the deep rotten snow. Trying to walk on these islands I thought could be similar to walking rock to rock in a floating lava field – with flippers on your feet.
Then it started to rain – then sleet, then graupel – then back to rain. It was a rough day for the woods crew. If the neighbors had been outside in this nasty weather, they may have been able to hear the curses rolling down from the hills as Kelly and I stumbled and postholed our way through the woods. The thought of a fire, some hot syrup, and dry socks carried me down the hill and back to the sugarhouse.
Not only were all of these things on hand when I made it back, but chicken soup and a beer capped off the comforts of a day at Nebraska Knoll.
I can’t wait to do it all over again tomorrow!