Snowshoeing at Slack’s

We finally have enough snow to make snowshoeing an easy choice over hiking.  Julia and I took turns outdoors today so that someone was home for Justin.  She cross-country skied 12k over at the Lodi Golf Course.  I procrastinated until about 90 minutes before sunset and then drove over to Slack’s Trailhead on the Ice Age Trail.

I often read on other blogs about how terrible and boring winter is in cold climates.  To be honest, however, I would miss winter days like today if I were to move to southern Arizona  or a similar place without wintry blasts to remind us of weather extremes.  The air was so cold and clean, no insects, total silence, and pure solitude.  As I plodded along in my snowshoes, all of my worries and concerns washed away.

It was cold out; temperatures tonight will dip below zero again.  But I wasn’t at all cold as I moved up and down hills, through stands of pine and oak, and passed native prairie grasses.  Seasons keep views dynamic, and I had to stop for a few minutes to gaze across the hills looking southward down the frozen Wisconsin River.

 
I’ve hiked thousands of miles of trails across this country and plan to do a lot more hiking outside my home area.  Yet, I also love the one I’m with.

Snowshoe Time

We’ve had a mostly brown winter–very little snow.   Today, Wisconsin’s normal winter returned with a fresh coat of several inches of snow, along with cold temperatures.  My wife Julia and I celebrated by taking a quick snowshoe walk around the marsh.  Brisk, but refreshing.

The last time I went snowshoeing on the marsh was a couple of weeks ago when my daughter was home.  Unfortunately, while we were on this same trail, Allie lost her iPhone, which was purchased from summer work savings.  Allie and I walked up and down the trail several times, hoping to find it on top of the snow. 

Later, Julia returned with a rake and went through about a half mile of trail, raking the snow without any luck.  A day after Allie returned to college, we got a call from Madison from a very honest stranger who found Allie’s phone on a day that the snow had partially melted. Rejecting any reward, he told us that he only hoped that if his own phone was lost someday, that someone would treat him with a similar kindness in returning the phone.

John Prine wrote a song called, “Some humans ain’t human.”  I can’t argue with that.  But, thankfully, good people help balance that out.