Here we are. Beginning our trek across the frozen wasteland which in summer would be called a lake. On our way to look for insulators. In February yet. With 3 feet of snow on the ground. But dad thought it would be perfect to check out this one area since we can get at it so easily by walking across the lake. Get at what? More snow? After our initial misadventure at the beginning, mentioned last time, we are on the way. Things are going smoothly. At about the mid point of the lake there is a loud, very long cracking sound. Not something I like to hear when standing in the middle of the lake. It can actually sound quite nice while standing on the shore. But not now. Dad and I stop. Dad suggests we separate a bit, just in case.
I didn’t like the way he added that last part. He tells me to go on ahead. Naturally. However, no problems occur. Until we get to the other shore. That hill was a bit steeper looking than it looked from the other side of the lake. Climbing a steep hill with snowshoes can be tricky. Climbing a steep hill without snowshoes can be tricky. Especially when it is covered with 3 feet of snow. Hmm. We could go further down the lake, but that would take us further from the tracks, and also further from the insulators. I was still wondering why I agreed to come on this insane trip in the first place. Now if we were after old bottles that would be different. Oh well.
Dad decides to climb first. Okay with me. Actually things were going quite well. A lot of little shrubs along the way to hold onto which made climbing much easier than I thought. Until one of those little shrubs I grabbed turned out to be a loose branch sticking out of the snow. That didn’t help. I lost my balance. And actually started to slide backwards. Not easy to do on snowshoes. At least, not these snowshoes. The back ‘tail’ decided to stick into the snow. That stopped the backward sliding. And flipped me backward. And down the hill I began to roll. Didn’t go too far though, fortunately. I was covered with snow. Snow in my boots. Snow in my mitts. Snow down my back. It was cold. Very cold.
And amazingly as I looked up, dad was standing up the hill looking at me, and, and, LAUGHING! Can you believe it?! Laughing at my calamity. Amazing. I didn’t see anything funny. He didn’t even come down to help me. Laughing too much. But I managed to get myself upright again and began the trek up hill, again. Finally we made it. But what did we see? A steep downhill approach to the tracks below. Dad and I stood looking. No way we can get down there, with or without snowshoes, I said. Dad sighed, but agreed. Oh well, let’s rest and have some coffee before heading back, said dad. We found a fallen log and sat down. Gave me a chance to clean out the remaining snow from my boots. And get out a dry pair of mitts and socks. So, what’s next?
To be continued.
Steve and Muffin.
© 2020 Steve McLeod.