A light in the forest

A friend and I drove up to the Summit today—to cross-country ski territory—for a walk through the woods.

It was beautiful.

I don’t know why, but we hadn’t expected to find snow—deep snow, knee deep in some places.

Neither of us was dressed for the weather, with me in tennis shoes, a hoodie and a little Lands Ends vest, and not a glove between us.

With snow covering the hilly ski trails, it was hard work making our way into the woods, but it was well worth the effort.

After awhile tho, the wind picked up and we noticed the sky turning dark and ominous and then remembered that the morning forecast had called for rain and snow.

So we decided to make our way back to the car before the sky opened up, except that each path looked the same and we weren't sure, with the deep snow, which was the best path out.

For a bit there, with the uncertainty of where in the mountain woods we were—and at an elevation of over 8,000 ft—I felt a slight twinge of fear, wondering if my cell phone would work or if the lightening that had visited the night before would return, with what looked to be an impending storm.

I thought about how both our Legal Dudes were out of town—so no one knew where we were—and that I was at a complete loss direction wise or had no idea which way was out.

Such were the thoughts that mulled around in my mind as I tried not to let my apprehension show.

Fortunately, my companion had been on the trails enough times to have an idea in which direction to go, and after a few minutes, the fear subsided and I begin to feel a bit of a thrill.

The thrill of not having to wander in the wet and the cold, or to have to spend the night, lost in the dark.

The thrill of feeling like a nonchalant western, mountain, or frontier woman, even though I’m anything but.

We had no idea what this tool--left by the Nordic Ski
Club--but figured it might come in handy

Signs of spring, despite the winter weather

The W.C.

Safe and sound as we make our way back to the car

I am, after all, just a city gal, abnormally afraid of bears, mountain lions and anything with four legs and teeth.

I’d do it again—tho next time, I’d take a compass.