I'm off to ski to the top of the north ridge. Yesterday I noticed the sun shining up there and I'm in a hurry to catch it before it's gone. The sun won't be high enough to shine into our valley for another month so you have to catch it where you can. Rushing to get into my skis, I push too hard on the toe clip and break it. Now what. Taking time to fix it will leave me late for the sun so I quickly switch my boots and put on snow shoes. As I take off, Dan is on his way to the shed to get my machine running. He tells me to have fun. He's absent his helper because Will has taken off for a snow shoe hike to the tundra. The tundra is the high country above the tree line where the caribou live in summer. We can see the hills in the east from our cabin about five miles away. It takes me all day to get there because it's all up hill but only half that time to get back. Will on the other hand can get up there in just a few hours. As I cruise past Dan on my way to the hill it occurs to me he might need help. "You don't need help do you," I say. He assures me he doesn't. Good.
I hear the machine purr into action as I'm stomping up the hill with my coat wide open because I'm already hot. When I emerge on the ridge a gorgeous red sky in the west shows me I just missed the sun but there is a higher rise further on. Before me are Will's snow shoe tracks but I can't walk in them because his stride is too long. I still can use the trail he made though and it makes going faster. On the way I come to that same stream that did me in on my first ski trip a few days ago only up here on the ridge the stream is deeper and wider. Dan has put some boards across from one side to the other for a span of about six feet but only wide enough for one snow shoe. Very gingerly I pigeon toe my snow shoes fitting one in front of the other with the heels sticking out to the sides and I actually get across without tripping myself.
Up ahead is the little rise to my view of the sun but when I get there I'm too late again. I settle for enjoying the beautiful sky that the setting sun has left behind. Heading west back to the cabin I can watch the colors changing as I go. I'm going into a bit of a breeze biting my face and I'm thinking of some nice hot chocolate with marshmallows and those Christmas cookies but when I walk in the cabin door I am overwhelmed with the scent of cinnamon and cloves. Dan has spiced the home pressed apple cider we brought with us from our freezer. He calls it apple "tea".
Will is back from his tundra hike and reports that the tundra trail is not in good shape. Not enough snow has fallen to really bury the brush that could snag a machine. We would have to spend days packing the trail by snow shoe and cutting out willows and alders. We had thought we might run up to the tundra where we could really cruise flat out for miles but we will have to save that trip for later in winter. Tomorrow we'll head for the lake instead.
As we sit sipping our apple "tea" Will shows us a picture he took on his hike of a wolverine running across an open field. Wish I had been with him.