Finding the Trail or Losing My Way

After all the wind and cold, today's sunny 16 degrees felt like a beach day, so I struck out in search of a hike. It was a great time to test the GoGo Gear kevlar leggings in the deep snow, as well as put my YakTrax to good use. I was a bit concerned about the cold, because 16 degrees is still quite cold, but was confident in the pants and boots (Sorel's Joan of Arctic aka "boots with the fur"). I was surprised at how warm my upper body was with just a base layer and faithful North Face coat.

Anyway, no product reviews just yet, but will say that so far everything worked great, even the YakTrax which model I have is really just for walking on poorly plowed streets. I hiked up some very steep "trails" and had zero problems once I put on my YakTrax, and it only popped off once, as I was hurdling myself off fallen trees and through deep trenches of snow to attempt some photos of cool looking rocks. Besides that, they stayed on great and held excellent traction on ice, packed, and deep snow.

Sore from the previous indoor workout, but feeling a bit disgusted at having eaten and drank so much last night at Shabbat, dinner (which had ice cream and brownies for dessert, the jerks), and the inevitable party that happened to make use of all the extra Shabbat wine, I was interested in a long, arduous walk in the woods, and went searching for one, which was harder than I expected. For a while, I walked pathless in the woods, following the trails of animals and working towards whatever looked the most promising for a view.

I walked up and down a number of hills, eventually coming to a wide and obvious path with smaller trails leading off from it. I meandered in and out of the various smaller trails, working my way up the long face of the mountain. It was a beautiful day that brought out all I love about winter— how everything is muted, insulated by the snow, even the cold is more mild once the snow comes. Even on somewhat cloudy days, the sun cuts through and is instantly so brilliant, reflecting off all the snow and ice, and the thin wintry air.

It's hard to explain to people why I like winter but I hate it in Pittsburgh, but I think it's the mildness that aids in the seasonal depression. There's little snow and zero sun, and the cold isn't championed by drastic conditions or impressive scenery. The air isn't thin so much as wispy, like a balding head. While northern Vermont is definitely colder, it's almost Shakespearean in its drama. Pittsburgh, by contrast could only wish to be Dickensy, droning on forever as if getting paid per cloudless day.

Plus, Vermont has teeth: