Montag, 25. Januar 2016

Snowshoeing!


This winter, I decided to do something about my self-imposed hibernation habits, and be more active during the winter months. It started because I remembered how much I used to like winter and snow as a kid. I loved it! I got so excited when it snowed. Now, all I do is complain about the snow. So what changed? I realized that when I was younger, I used to play in the snow: go sledding, have snowball fights, built snow caves and snow men. Now, all I associate with snow is slippery roads and cold feet, ice on the sidewalk, dark, cold nights, wind chill and longer commutes. I decided to change something about that by getting out in the snow to do something fun! I signed up for ice skating lessons and I purchased a pair of snow shoes!

After attending an introductory lesson about gear choices and different kinds of snowshoes, I settled for basic hiking snowshoes, made by a local company:RedFeather is located in LaCrosse, WI, and they actually make their snowshoes there - and they provides jobs for people with disabilities. Reason enough to choose them over cheaper introductory models.

I decided to take them out for a first test on a solo hike at Mirror Lake State Park. Though most of the trails at Mirror Lake are groomed for skiing in the winter, and thus not open to snowshoers, they provide a few un-groomed trails - and you can always 'shoe off trail. So off I went!

I started off on the Lake View Trail. The trailhead can be found right next to the beach/playground parking lot (summer use, of course) and follows the shoreline along for about 0.3 miles to the boat ramp. The snow was hard, packed down, and icy in spots - not ideal walking conditions, but no problem at all for snowshoes, equipped with crampons to provide traction.  


After reaching the boat ramp, I had the option of following Echo Rock Trail, but instead, I chose to continue along the lake, off trail, to see how far I could go and what the terrain would look like. The path became rocky and narrow very quickly, hugging a sandstone cliff, with a short drop-off on the other side and the frozen lake below. Coming around a bend, I was surprised by these ice formations. The recent weather in southern Wisconsin, with periods of thaw, followed by below-freezing temperatures, has been perfect for the formation of ice flows, but I was still surprised by these at least 10-foot tall icicles spilling off the side of the cliff, almost directly onto the footpath I was following.


I moved closer to get a better look, and learned my first snow-shoeing lesson: it is hard to back up (almost impossible, in fact), and to reverse, one has to turn around in a circle - not the easiest thing to do on a fairly narrow ledge.


After seeing the ice flows, I kept following the side of the cliff for a bit longer. I was hoping to be able to pick up Echo Rock Trail later on, but I quickly realized that the trail would be on top of the sandstone cliff, and I would find myself somewhere between the top and the lake. Of course, if worst came to worst, I could simply descend to the lake and snowshoe back to Lakeview Trail on the ice - I had seen people driving their trucks onto the lake when I started out, so I was fairly confident the ice would hold my weight.


After a while, the path got narrower and steeper, and, as this was my first time on snowshoes and I was on a solo hike, I decided to turn around and hike back the way I came rather than attempt to push my luck. 


Walking on snowshoes is very similar to walking without them (no surprise there!), but it is somewhat more strenuous, and one has to get used to the way the snowshoes feel. The gait changes a bit due to the way one has to place one's feet (next to each other instead of in front of each other), and it is easier than you'd think to step on your own snowshoes and trip. But despite my decision to "chicken out" and retrace my steps after only a brief excursion into the rocky off-trail terrain along the lakeshore, I decided I felt ready for a longer snowshoe adventure: a group hike into a gorge in the Devil's Lake State Natural area, located within the boundaries of Devil's Lake State Park.


The hike was organized through an outdoor MeetUp group, and we met up at the beginning of Burma Road, right where it intersects with South Shore Road. In order to get to the gorge, we snowshoed along Burma Road (not plowed) for about 1.5 miles, and then veered off the road. The hike leader had lots of experience hiking in this area, which is why he had no problem finding the right spot to leave the road and head into the brush. Without knowing the area and without having spent exploring it in great detail, I don't think I would have been able to find the right place to go off trail or known where to descend into the gorge - or which gorge to descend into, for that matter. After a brief descend, we reached a small, frozen waterfall: the beginning of a little creek along the bottom of the gorge. 


We snowshoed along the creek, alternating between the combine over rocks and fallen trees and snowshoeing on the ice. I think this trail would be almost inaccessible during any other season, because it would have been impossible to navigate in places without walking on the frozen creek. The ice was thick and sturdy in places, while the open water was visible through holes in the ice in others. 


The gorge was beautiful - after only a short hike, the gorge became much steeper and narrower, with the bluff looming on both sides. The creek meanders around bends, and there are new surprised and wonders around every corner. We saw evidence of woodpecker activity, came across many animal tracks in the snow, encountered cool ice formations and fungi.


Navigating the rocks, ice, and fallen logs was challenging at times, especially while wearing the still-unfamiliar snowshoes, but there is also a joy, and unadulterated sense of accomplishment that comes with navigating even small obstacles like these, finding a way down a frozen waterfall or figuring out the best way around a patch of open water or a particularly off-putting pile of fallen trees.


Even though I am not usually a fan of group hikes - I prefer hiking solo, or with one or two friends, because, for me, the point of being outdoors is actually experiencing nature, and a big, noisy group of people is generally not part of my idea of a peaceful outing in the great outdoors - I found that I felt comfortable snowshoeing with a rather large group, partially because I do not yet feel confident enough to set out on my own too far from the trail in snowshoes, and partially because not even a large group could prevent one from experiencing the beauty and calmness of this perfect winter morning.


Finally, I understood the appeal of winter hiking. Where I had previously seen snow and ice simply as obstacles that prevented me from seeing nature "as it was supposed to be" (warm, green, full of buzzing and humming and flowers and leaves and, the rustling of wind through the trees, the sound of birds and squirrels), I suddenly appreciated that winter has its own kind of beauty: cold, quiet, stark, but also peaceful and full of beauty and wonders of its own. We saw the sun glittering on the icy creek, the different colors of ice, the way the flowing water had frozen into intricate formations. We spotted use flows and icicles all along the cliff walls. Winter hiking, I suddenly understood, is so much more than simply an inferior substitute for summer hiking, and with the right gear, snow and ice could be a bonus rather than a nuisance. For the first time in a long time, I appreciated winter as a season with its own, often underrated beauty, a beauty that can be found away from busy ski slopes, in quiet gorges and along icy creeks.


When we reached the end of the gorge, we climbed up the bluff on one of its gentler slopes, and backtracked along the gorge, on top of the cliff. While this was the longer, and more strenuous, way back, we were rewarded with breathtaking views and sunshine. I will definitely be snowshoeing again very soon!


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