In the last week or so here in the DC area, we’ve had the most snow we’ve had in a couple of years. Though it’s just about completely gone by now, the snow and accompanying cold snap we’ve had has got me thinking of days gone by when I spent more time in the snow.
I took up the sport of cross-country skiing when I was in college. I took a half-credit class my Freshman year, and man, did I enjoy it. After I got bit by the bug, I got a job repairing/maintaining the school’s skis (which meant I could take them out whenever I wanted), I went out and bought my own skis, and I spent a lot of time skiing around the college’s cross-country running trails. I can only remember cutting class once in college, and it was to go out XC skiing on new fallen snow on a Friday afternoon.
One of the things I liked so much about cross-country skiing was the mobility I had in places I wouldn’t otherwise go. When you couple that freedom with the peacefulness that’s out there in nature, with sounds muffled by the snow, it was something I enjoyed very much.
Well, I need to tell you about a dopey move I made on skis. The college I attended had its own mini ski slope. It wasn’t anything major, but it was great for teaching people who have never gone downhill skiing before. For those that aren’t familiar, these are two very different types of skiing. Downhill skiing is the stuff you do when you get all bundled up and ride on chair lifts, and cross-country skiing is the stuff that NordicTrack tries to simulate. This ski slope had a green circle (bunny slope) to teach students the basics, a blue square to give students more room and a steeper slope to try out their skills, and a black diamond (more of a blue square plus) with a still steeper slope to let students pick up some greater speed.
One night a buddy and I wanted to go take advantage of the fresh powder that had just fallen. One of the best places to go was near the ski slope. The ski slope was closed and there were no lights in the area, but after being out in the dark for awhile my eyes adjusted, especially with the snow making things brighter.
Now cross-country skiing isn’t exactly the most relaxing sport. You’re doing a lot of work; you’re always either kicking with the skis or pushing with the poles. Since you’re the one providing the propulsion, the sound and cadence of skis and poles moving through the snow are ever present. That constant effort makes you really appreciate the free trip you get when going down hills, and it can seem almost otherworldly to glide down a hill without all the noise.
The powder on this occasion was deep enough that it prevented me from building up a lot of speed. It was just the right depth that I could go sailing straight down the main ski slope without bombing down the hill at a breakneck pace, something you don’t normally get to experience on cross-country skis. Only the front tips of the skis stuck out of the snow, and as they blazed trails through the unspoiled powder, snow the consistency of powdered sugar sprinkled with salt caved back in on the skis and covered them, all while I moved down the hill with no more than a gentle swishing sound. It was a delightfully serene moment I wanted to capture as best as I could.
I had my camera with me (back when people carried cameras but not phones), and even though I knew it wouldn’t do justice to the real thing, I wanted to try. I took out my camera and turned it on, and looked through the viewfinder (remember those?) to get the view of my skis that I wanted. I pressed the button, and a brilliant flash from the camera, which then reflected off a totally white surface, blinded my perfectly adjusted night vision as I continued straight down the hill.
Very quickly I realized there was a decision I had to make. There were trees, machinery, and other stuff at the bottom of the hill that I could crash into and get seriously hurt, but I figured I would probably miss it all. My vision might even come back early enough for me to make out any dangers before I got close to them. I could also start turning across the slope to buy myself some time for my vision to return, but then I would be heading toward some trees for sure. Cross-country skis don’t turn as easily as downhill skis, especially in powder, so that would also be an action that would benefit from being able to see.
Well, I probably could’ve made it to the bottom safely, but the choice seemed to be all risk and no reward, especially considering how soft it would be to fall down in that much powder. I intentionally fell over and waited until I stopped seeing stars. My serene moment was fun while it lasted, but it ended when I slumped down into a frozen white blanket until I could see again.
Whatever the weather’s like where you are, I hope you’re healthy and well, that the first month of the new year has been treating you right, and that in the coming weeks you get some weather you enjoy.