We've had a few small snowfalls this past week that have added up. There's enough fresh snow in the woods and on the trails nearby to erase most of my previous walks.
So I headed out this afternoon for a walk. It was overcast, but the light reflecting from the snow made it fairly bright out. The sunglasses that I wore would offer protection from branches and the glare. It was warm enough and I had dressed lightly because I knew that I wouldn't need many layers.
I strapped on my snowshoes while sitting on my back steps and headed out through the gate onto the trail that leads from my house. I set out west and soon encountered a couple of riders on horseback. I wouldn't really call them horses; they were more like ponies. A young girl was waiting ahead on the path for her mother, who was fixing the saddle on her pony a little further down the path. The pony almost looked to small for her. I've often seen the tracks the horses make in the snow and at times hear them whinny at the farm.
At little further down the path I met a couple who were cross country skiing. They stepped from the path to let me by. I jokingly told the man in the lead that it would have been easier for me to step off the path than them, but he said he need the break. When I reached the end of the path, I turned left and followed the snowmobile tracks along the side of the highway. But only for a short distance. I was going to try to follow the small creek that crossed under the road.
When I reached the creek, I turned left toward the fence. There is a fence crossing over the creek, but the bottom is cut away and I was able to crawl underneath without much difficulty. The creek follows a fairly straight path through the woods, but sometimes trees and branches are too thick to walk over or crawl under. For these I find a short path around the obstruction. There is evidence that some of the trees have been brought down by beavers. At one point, I noticed a stump under the snow that looked fairly freshly chewed. There was no sign of the tree however.
I nearly lost the trail once when I was walking around a series of trees that were blocking the creek. I didn't realize that the creek had taken a sharp right turn. Once back on track, I was able to continue following the "path". The ice was solid, especially after a recent cold snap of -27 degrees Celsius. Understand that the creek is only about four or five feet across at the widest spot and the bank is always within reach. At one point the creek ran through a culvert and I had to walk over the obstruction. I had to wonder if a path or road once crossed the creek there. If it did, there was no other sign of the path as trees had grown up everywhere there.
I have heard them called "idiot makers." It's the one thing I hate about walking in the woods after a snowfall. When I have to walk through a tangle of bushes or trees the loose snow falls from above and invariably finds the back of my neck. I began to whack the trees with my poles before walking under any of them. At one point, the small creek meets up with a larger creek. When I look to my right down the larger creek, I can see cars on the highway. This creek and the one that I started out on run parallel to each other. But my little creeks veers to the right and intersects the big creek. I choose to go to the left down the larger creek following tracks of another animal that was there before me. It was probably a deer, but it's hard to tell in because the tracks are obscured in the deep snow. This creek is about twenty feet wide and to be safe I decide to stay close to one bank. Ice freezes first and freezes more solid along the edge of a body of water. And if the ice breaks, I should be able to reach out for the bank.
Just a short trek along the creek I pass a beaver lodge. It's covered in snow, but some small animal has disturbed the snow on the top. A little further along, I'm forced to circumvent a downed tree. It's too big to walk over and the gap under it is not high enough to crawl under. I find a short detour through some cattails. I'm still following the dear tracks although I see another set that are spaced further apart like it's been bounding along. The creek is solid and I've decide that it's safe to walk the middle.
I've walked a long way when the clearing of the creek seems to disappear. Now it looks to be small trees and cattails everywhere. As I reach the end and prepare to leave the ice of the creek, I step around a small thicket. One of my snowshoes breaks through. I get my other foot on something more solid while I pull my wet foot out. But there are several problems. My foot has sunken into the muck and decay at the bottom of the creek. The water wasn't deep because I was near shore where the creek was dwindling. When I pull my foot up, the same property that keeps a snowshoe on top of the snow, prevented me from just pulling it up quickly when in went in. And when I pulled up, the toe of my snowshoe snagged under the lip of the ice. I had to pull my foot backwards and then up and out. My first thought was how my foot was going to be wet, cold and freezing before I could get home. I had a decision to make - press on and hope that I can find my way out the other side or turn back the way I'd come. I'd hoped to blaze a path through to the Trans Canada Trail that I suspected wasn't far away. I decided to continue forward. The water had soaked in to my boot, but after the initial cold my circulation seemed to keep my foot warm despite the wet feeling.
As I continued to walk along, I tried to follow gaps in the reeds where it looked like the remnants of the creek meandered along. When I began to hear the occasional cracking sound, I decided to walk on or near areas where there were trees or reeds, thinking these areas had to be more solid ground. But then I broke through again. This time the water was a little deeper. I purposely turned and fell so my chest and arms would be on what seemed like a bank. Between the muck, the pressure of the snowshoe through the water, and catching my toe on the ice, I had even more difficulty in getting my feet out this time. I was even a little worried and really had to wrestle to get free. Now my feet were really soaked. I found out later, that my gators had kept my legs from getting completely soaked. When I was free and on my feet again, my heart was racing and my breathing was rapid. I was exhausted and scared that it was so tiring. Again I had to make a decision.
Though the tops of the trees ahead there appeared to be an opening that I was hoping would be the final clearing that led to the trail. But as I proceeded again, I heard cracking and before I could get to a more "solid" area I went through for the third time. This time there was no real bank to sprawl across but I thought that spreading out my body on the ice would help to distribute the weight and keep me on top. It worked and I was able to stay on top. But again I had even more difficulty getting out of the water and now whenever I tried, I broke more ice. I tried pulling while holding onto some reeds, but they tore free in my hands, offering no help. I put my poles under me and across my chest to help with the weight. I manged to free my feet and legs by rolling over onto my side while I bent my legs. When I got back on my feet, I was breathing like I had just been running and again my heart raced. My feet were completely soaked now and cold. The smell of rotting vegetation from the creek bottom filled the air. It was time to go back the way I had come.
A short ways along, I passed my second hole, then my first. I was back on more solid ice. As I walked, I notice a shape in the distance. At first I thought it was a tree down. It was dark with some white on it that I presumed was snow. The thought crossed my mind that it could be a deer or even a bear. Something nagged at me to take out my camera and zoom in on it, but I was too tired now and anxious to get home so I continued walking instead. Then it moved. I was a huge deer. It bounded over the creek and into the woods. I continued along the larger creek, past my tributary and on to where it met the highway. A couple of snowmobiles passed as I made my way along the highway. I turned onto the trail that passed my house. A short distance along, I passed a man out for walk. I passed through the gate and into my yard; I was home.
Now to clean up. My socks - wet, filthy and stinking like a swamp - went straight into the garbage. My wife washed my pants which were wet with muck, my gators, which stunk and my shirt. I took the laces out of my boots, filled the sink with water and washed my boots inside and out. I used laundry soap and Febreeze to rid them of the smell. They're drying over the heat register.
I don't think I'll try that path again. I guess I'll stick to solid ground with the occasional creek crossing.
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