Snowshoes

On the Hosmer Brook Trail, it takes quite a few minutes to achieve the point of snowshoeing - getting into the woods that otherwise would have been impenetrable. We have to walk up the side of one of the Snow Bowl's downhill runs, then veer off on something that looks like a snowshoe trail - narrow, twisting - only until a few snowboarders and skiers come flying through the trees. We're startled and a little dismayed by the interruption but in awe of the skill.

Then we're in the clear of envy and annoyance and into the peace and quiet of a winter woods. The uphill slope is gradual at first, and the trail only partly broken (not exactly a mass participation sport, this), and the breathing easy. It gets steeper, of course, and the clear, cold air does a little wheeze-squeeze on our alveoli, but snowshoeing is only a little harder than hiking, and the black of trees and the white of snow are uncorrupted by our trials and prejudices.

From part of the trail we can see Bald Mountain across the valley, shining in the sun. We're in shadow here in the afternoon, but we don't care. The trail is marked as for children with big blue blazes on trunks and pink ribbons tied to branches, and it doesn't make it to the top of Ragged Mountain but goes back down in a tame loop - none of that matters. Goals and adventures and sunny achievements are best left for the summer. Winter is more of a moon season, pale, mysterious, pure, with its ups and downs. Going uphill, unchair-lifted, under your own steam? Perfect.