This morning Bridgette (who had never been XC skiing before) and I (who has been going once every five years for the past twenty-two years) drove up past Snoqualmie Summit to dig into the last of the winter puffy fluff, which by this point has turned into crusty dangerous icy daggers of awesome. We strapped on the boots (oh so comfy! take note alpine boot makers!) and skis and climbed for over two hours up to the top of a big big hill on icy snowmobiling and utility roads. Here I am at the summit that we called the summit because the real summit looked like it was yet another hour up the road.
After a power lunch of FiberOne bars and water, it was time to treacherously descend the steep road of icy death and danger at every turn by any means necessary. A bit later, Bridgette stumbled across the actual cross-country skiing trails that I had googled earlier that morning and so we ended the afternoon with an hour or so of tracking in real tracks. Bridgette is wicked quick on skis despite being from Arizona. Fortunately as my pride has been completely smacked out of me by years of science, I happily took the back track which gave me time to er, contemplate the beauty of nature. Yes, that's why I was so far back . . . busy taking pictures.
This morning Bridgette (who had never been XC skiing before) and I (who has been going once every five years for the past twenty-two years) drove up past Snoqualmie Summit to dig into the last of the winter puffy fluff, which by this point has turned into crusty dangerous icy daggers of awesome. We strapped on the boots (oh so comfy! take note alpine boot makers!) and skis and climbed for over two hours up to the top of a big big hill on icy snowmobiling and utility roads. Here I am at the summit that we called the summit because the real summit looked like it was yet another hour up the road.
After a power lunch of FiberOne bars and water, it was time to treacherously descend the steep road of icy death and danger at every turn by any means necessary. A bit later, Bridgette stumbled across the actual cross-country skiing trails that I had googled earlier that morning and so we ended the afternoon with an hour or so of tracking in real tracks. Bridgette is wicked quick on skis despite being from Arizona. Fortunately as my pride has been completely smacked out of me by years of science, I happily took the back track which gave me time to er, contemplate the beauty of nature. Yes, that's why I was so far back . . . busy taking pictures.
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