Over the past week in the Southwest the biggest concern was overheating, dehydration, and really pointy plants. Back home the snow was still piling up. A lot. It's been an epic winter. The kind of winter I couldn't bear to pass up. Time to go snowshoeing.
Snowshoeing is so simple compared to off-trail hiking in the desert. There are no cacti. There are no snakes. Tripping and falling means you get a face full of snow rather than rocks. You don't even have to follow a trail. Sure, you have to worry about avalanches and tree wells and hypothermia and frostbite, but those just seem second nature.
We had no views and without a real destination we climbed only as high as we felt like climbing. We would have had a view, but another part of the Northwest is a fair likelihood of clouds.
Treen didn't care, of course. Neither did I. (KC wished he was on skis, but only when skiers caught up with us. They're a vain bunch.) Being back in the snow after a week in the desert was a real treat. Variety is the spice of life. Visiting the Southwest is nice, but in spite of the weather, or maybe because of it, I'm a Northwesterner for life.
(That said, having suffered through one of the dreariest winters on record is making me wish for some blue skies.)
