We were rushing because the website says the chair only uploads snowshoers for 10 minutes every hour. Even though I drove like mad and we rushed to buy the tickets (so much so that I did a face plant in the plaza) we were clearly still going to miss the window because we had to climb about 200 feet to the chair. Damn.

It turns out, though, that Hyak gets virtually no traffic so they had no problem bringing the chair to a standstill to let us on. Sweet. It was a bit discombobulating to be flying over the ground and seeing my snowshoes dangle off my feet. It probably didn't help that I was only barely on the chair courtesy of my backpack preventing me from sitting all the way back. Still, they stopped the chair at the top and we walked off, unlike most everyone else getting off the chair that seemed to do a faceplant far more embarrassing than the one I did at the base.

We settled into our gear (we had been so hurried below we didn't get all set up) and started down the nordic track. The route did a big lazy switchback and I contemplated making for Frog Lake, but when we stood looking over the valley and the big drop and climb ahead we chose to skip Frog Lake. Instead we headed back toward "Union Station" and the lakes I had been to so recently, but I was excited to see them in the daylight.

So excited, in fact, I was like the proverbial horse for the stable. Amy had to nearly whack at me with her poles (my poles, actually) to get me to slow down and enjoy walking in the snow with my wife. By the time we got to Union Station (a big intersection with a massive trail map) we had settled on a pace that was more suitable to a Sunday afternoon.

While we were studying the sign a couple of crazy nordic skiers came flying through. For some reason I thought they would all be using the little groomed ruts on the sides of the road. After all, that's what I'd do. However, these guys were skating right down the middle and gave us the dirty looks we probably deserved for messing up their precious freeway.

We tried to find the snowshoe trails, but there had been heavy snow a day earlier so it was difficult. We passed one without realizing it was a designated trail and walked further on the road. When we found a set of tracks heading into the powder in the general direction of Hyak Lake we eagerly entered the back country.

At night there's very little to see, even with a headlamp and night skiing lights from the west. During the day, however, the forest was really cool. The snow was deep and thick enough to hide all the undergrowth so it appeared as though we walked through a land of vertical bars.

The track meandered through the forest before entering a meadow. For a moment I thought it was Hyak Lake, but quickly realized that viewing it at night hadn't made it seem that much bigger. We quickly found the real Hyak Lake and in fact the real snowshoe trail. It was marked with blue diamonds and yellow circles.

I dug a bench out of the snow on the edge of the lake and we settled in for hot chocolate and snacks. It may have been the first time I've ever used my snow claw (a handle-less shovel I carry for emergency use) and I was happy to see it worked well. We had moments of clearing, but a new storm rolled in and we headed back to the trail to visit our next destination.

Finding Rockdale Lake this time wasn't much of a challenge. Last time Dan and I had gone way too far to the south, but this time I knew to just descend a short little hill to a spot overlooking the lake. I was surprised to see there was a killer view west down the South Fork valley to peaks beyond. The sun was just setting and we scrambled for the best spot to shoot a picture. I ran down the road to find the view blocked by trees so back to where we first arrived and snap snap snap. None of the photos really showed the colors, but that just means I have to go back and try again.

We didn't spend much time at Rockdale not because it would soon be dark, but because we had to get back to relieve Amy's parents who were watching the girls. We made great time on the way back, sticking exclusively to the roads. All the skiers were gone so although we tried to avoid the groomed sections, we weren't too worried about being run down.

At the third left past the big sign I showed Amy how I let gravity do the work as I slid down the steep slope. She experimented with a couple of different positions before settling on a luge-like position. Without a pack and her jacket tucked into her snow pants she lay flat on her back. By lifting her snowshoes up just enough to get the cleats out of the snow she achieved speeds that were previously thought unattainable.

As usual, the ride down ended too soon. We slogged the last quarter mile to the car through wet snow.

Not counting the lift up, we gained about 350 feet and lost almost 1,400 feet over 3.5 miles.