A Winter Delight

Today was good for me. 

We weren't even sure what we were going to do when I talked to Dave on the phone last night. Our original plan was to go cross-country skiing on the mountain, but the forecast called for a snowstorm. We toyed with the idea of just going down south and doing a normal hike, but we felt it would be a wasted opportunity. This was February and a chance to take advantage of snow. 

There was another issue. I haven't felt good lately. In fact, I've been sick in one form or another for nine months. I recently blogged about my new cancer diagnosis. Lately my stomach has been very tender and sore. We were concerned about falling while on the skis and hurting my stomach further (and believe me, I would fall!). 

We decided we would leave in the morning and beat the storm. And instead of skiing, we would go snowshoeing. Done deal! 

I felt under-prepared when Dave picked me up this morning. I only had on a few layers of clothing and was already feeling cold. And I forgot my snow boots. 

When we got to the rental shop they had already run out of snowshoes. I about spoke up and said that we could just go down south and go hiking. But Dave beat me to the punch: “We'll just get skis then.” It was the best decision we made all day. 

Physically, I felt great. No soreness today. That could all change, however, when I started chugging along a snowy trail, working all the muscles in my core. 

Thirty minutes later we arrived at the trailhead. The mountain was covered in a couple feet of snow, with a sprinkling on the pine trees. The weather was perfect. No cloud or snowstorm in sight. At that moment, we highly doubted the weatherman knew what he was talking about. 

We got out of the truck and I pulled over a sweatshirt and a LoftTek jacket. I took off my hiking boots and replaced them with the snow boots that came with the skis. Then we clipped the boots into the skis. I slipped on my gloves and beanie, grabbed my poles, and we were ready to go. 

This was a semi-popular trail for winter activities. It had been groomed and well packed. We glided along and I was surprised that I was doing so well. This was only my second time on skis. The first was last year and I think I fell at least 50 times. 

I followed the grooves left in the snow by previous skiers. This helped me move along with little worry of my skis becoming crossed or doing the splits. Our path moved forward slightly uphill. Everything seemed perfect. My stomach wasn't even hurting. 

Since my diagnosis I have had many ups and downs. When I am down I worry that I will never feel as well as I used to. But when I am up, I am planning so many treks and trips in my mind, looking forward to the day when I will finally be able to do them. 

Dave and I.

Dave has been instrumental in this forward-thinking. For a few years now we've went on several excursions together. Little by little they have grown in size and now we probably have at least a dozen different places we plan on going together. Last year we had a backpacking trip planned in the Snake Range in Nevada. At the last minute I had to cancel because I needed a bone-marrow biopsy. That was the same week I was diagnosed with cancer. I was pretty bummed. For nine months now I haven't been able to run or backpack, two things I love to do. I have been able to hike, but only on relatively flat surfaces that don't require a lot of exertion. 

The point I'm trying to get at is that these excursions with Dave have given me the motivation to stay positive. They have given me the determination to do whatever I can to recover to a level at least as high as what I was at before. I have learned that you can't take this life for granted. 

Today's adventure was a step in the right direction. 

By the time we arrived at our first resting point, I had biffed it twice. It was a downhill section and I panicked when I started going fast. I still have some work to do. But it was still a great improvement over last year. 

An iced-over Navajo Lake.

We stopped at a view point overlooking the frozen Navajo Lake. Unless you knew it was a body of water, you may not have recognized it. Instead of the deep-blue veneer like it has during summer, it had a monochromatic sheet of ice that blended with the surrounding snow-clad hills. 

We had a humorous moment when I unclipped my skis. I must have nudged my left ski forward because it effortlessly began to slide down the hill. Not just a little ways, but so far down we couldn't see it! Luckily it left a slight snake-track on the snow. I had to trudge down the hill with snow up to my knees to retrieve the ski. 

It was here that we were met by a group of skiers from the outdoor club at SUU. There were about a dozen of them and they were kind enough to take our picture. 

After guzzling down some water and eating a candy bar, we clipped on the skis again and continued our loop. By now a couple small clouds had formed in the sky. Nothing much. We still mocked the weather forecast that called for snow by 1 pm. 

Our time was filled with good conversation and scenery. Although I will admit that most of my scenery was focused downward as I concentrated on my skis. There was very little wind and the sun was happily shining, except for when it hid behind a cloud, which seemed to be happening more often.

I was falling more frequently now, but that was because there were more downhill sections. I was surprised that my stomach was not feeling sore. When we went uphill I could feel the fatigue that had been so common with me the last several months. But it was nothing too bad. In fact, it could probably be chalked up to the skiing (and being out of shape). After all, this is a sport that uses most of the muscles in your body. 

As we came to the halfway point, there was a long downhill section. Dave taught me to keep my skis pointed inward and to use my poles to slow me down. That worked most of the time, but I still kept biffing it. 

Another one bites the dust!

After one of my spills I got up and saw that Dave was talking to an older man with a long gray beard. His name was Bob Rasmussen and he used to live in Salt Lake City, but now lived down here. I think he must ski every day. He knew all the trails. 

As we talked, the skiers from the college began to pass. They were spread out now. Some seemed like pros, while others played it cautiously. At least three of them biffed it when they came around the corner and saw us. I don't blame them. I would have, too. I don't know if they psychologically faltered at the sight of another person, or if they were worried they would hit us. 

By this point the entire sky was full of clouds. We only had a couple more miles to the vehicle and I only wrecked once on that stretch, landing on my elbow. It hurt! 

When we arrived at the truck it was 12:56 and the first flakes were falling from the sky. I guess the weatherman was dead-on. 

Today we traveled a total of 6.1 miles. For me, that was good. I told Dave that next year we need to do a bigger trek that would be ten miles one-way. Maybe in the Tushars. 

We unclipped the skis and shed a couple layers of clothing. I was glad to be back. As I walked I felt light-headed. I worried that maybe I pushed myself too hard without realizing it because adrenaline had kicked in. If that was the case, then so be it. I was satisfied. ♠

 

One o'clock snow.