It's a stretch

It's as if my body felt the warm spring sun from under our winter down comforter. I awoke to the chirping of the Chickadees at my front feeder and didn't spare a moment during my breakfast of coffee and eggs. It was simply too perfect of a well-deserved spring dayto stay indoors!

Outside in my baseball cap, hooded sweatshirt, pac boots and snowshoes I planned the day.  The main objective was to cut a few rounds of firewood to supplement our dwindling supply. We were burning an unprecedented amount of wood and needed to once again dwelve into our reserve stock of poplar.  

The problem was that the reserve pile was still under four feet of snow!  So I started digging.  After some time I was able to locate the tarp that draped the supply and began shoveling my way to a point where I was able to start lifting the tarp and exposing the wood. Slowly but surely I dug, chipped and lifted the tarp to a point where I was standing on the logs. Somewhere along the way my efforts shifted the weight of the stacked logs.

The feeling of success quickly diminished when I realized that my right foot was firmly lodged between a couple of logs that had shifted!  I was stuck.  My only hope for freedom was to untie my boot and try to wiggle my foot free. However, Every attempt to get my hands within reach of my boot laces failed by less than an inch.  Simply put- I was not limber enough to get my hand down to where my boot was and untie the knot. Worst of all I was home alone, without a phone in my pocket and the neighbors were no where to be heard!  The only thing in reach was a thermos of hot coffee. Not bad- but out of reach was a chainsaw, shovel, splitting maul and jacket. All of which I could surely benefit from in such a predicament as this. 

I soon realized that I had few options. The simplest variable to change in order to help my circumstance was the fact that my body couldn't make the stretch to reach the boot laces.  In te back of my mind was the fact that I didn't even know if I did get my foot out of the boots that I would be able to get out. It was my only option. 

So I started stretching.  I did every back stretch that I could think of.  I would stretch for a few minutes, try to reach, fail, rest, sip some coffee and stretch. At least it wasn't thirty below!

Finally, after an hour or so my fingertips could reach the loop of my knot!  I stretched a few more sets and was able to get my had into the hole and started to fenagle the knot undone!  It worked!  My foot slipped right out of the hole. Hopping on one booted foot I gave the logs a few bangs with the splitting maul and extracted my misguided boot.  

Clearly a little shaken from the experience I hobbled my way back inside, stoked the stove, brewed another pot of coffee and put my phone in my pocket!

The only visible light is low.  Large snowflakes gently fall.  Balsam fir boughs droop under the weight of a early spring snow fall. The greying waning light darkens the background into black. 

Four feet of snow cover the forest. More than a foot has already melted. Snow has consistantly fallen for four months. The temperature has bitterly remained below freezing. The first freeze thaw did not occur until a week ago.  As a result the snowpack accumulated as one homogenous layer of deep powder. There are times when one would fall through the entire depth of snow from the top to the bare ground while wearing snowshoes!

Now, because of the first freeze thaw cycle, this incredible base of snow has encased itself. It's now a four foot tall platform rising above the forest floor that one can swiftly snowshoe or ski. 

The deer have congregated along the shore where the steep warm spring sun has exposed the steep southern facing patches I grass.  They nimbly maneuver the steep rocky outcrops nibbling whatever remotely edible swatches of vegetation that have flung on tithe talus through the winter. 

There's a full moon rising under a warm march night. 

I wish I was a painter; attempting to find a tone and hue

For each and every fading flash of light. 

Winter Descent

Breaking trail in March is a good thing. For one it means that you are headed Into terrain where only critter have been in months.  Most of all, however, it means that you will trample a fresh trail. In the case of today's trail it meant five feet of uncomprosmised adventure down one of the north shore's steepest yet under-explored canyons.