At age 3, Max likes to find new ways to test snowshoes. (Kate Goodin photo)

6:30 am: I’m lying in bed with a slowly-waking-up Max (aka “Boonie”), discreetly trying to keep his attention away from the windows. I’m not ready to get up yet, and I know something that he doesn’t: it snowed last night. He’s not the kind of boy to take this lightly. A heavy frost gets him excited.

6:45 am: He turns his head. It’s just light enough now that he can tell that the world is white. He’s silent for about a second and then, “Ohhhhhhhh…” He scrambles for the window and leans on the sill, banging his head on the glass. Groggy as I am, I smile as his high-pitched 3-year-old voice squeaks with delight, “Snow! I want to go outside!?” It’s a question, a statement and a plea all at once. Who can deny a child with that kind of passion? “Okay,” I say, “Let’s get dressed.”

“I want to go snowshoeing!”

“I know, Boonie, but you have to get dressed first.”

When to Start

Late last winter we had the opportunity to try out some snowshoes for Max. He was just beginning the transition from riding in a backpack carrier for most of our walks to doing more and more on his own two feet. It was time. Not only is he a strong, active boy, but he’s big for his age, and heavy, and it was increasingly obvious that it would soon be impractical to carry him for long distances. Perhaps more importantly, his independence was blossoming and he was eager to interact with the world on his own terms, inspecting and investigating things that caught HIS attention. This has brought so much wonder to my life; with him in the Ergo backpack carrier we used, I was able to share what I found interesting with him, but now he is an active participant, often pointing out, and asking questions about, things that I have missed, things I wouldn’t have thought to wonder about on my own.

Well before he turned 3, Max was perfecting his snowshoe yoga technique. (Kate Goodin photo)

In the winter of 2010/11, when Max was just two-and-a-half, we had a LOT of snow. My husband Doug plows the yard clear between our house and the barn, where our firewood is stacked. This gave Max a good start at playing outside, but he wanted to know what was going on in the rest of the yard. As soon as he tried to step off the plowed area or off the snowmobile trail that runs through our field, he would stumble, sink, and immediately get frustrated at his lack of forward motion. I shoveled some paths for him early in the year, but this obviously wasn’t a long-term solution. We hadn’t thought that he would need snowshoes so soon, but we knew that Max and snowshoes were inevitable, so we decided to start looking. This may sound crazy, but I like to start him on things before he’s ready. Not TOO much before, mind you; I don’t want to discourage him. But let’s put it this way: I wanted him to be comfortable with the IDEA of using snowshoes before he HAD to use them.

With this in mind, we started looking at what was available that would work for someone as small and eager as Max. It’s apparently not that common for a two- or three-year-old to snowshoe on his or her own, at least not very far. At first, the only snowshoes I could find designed to fit him appeared to be cheesy kid things, and I just wasn’t interested in that. I know my son well enough to know that he wouldn’t be, either. He wants his stuff to look and work like Mommy’s and Daddy’s. This is a kid who, when asked what he wanted for Christmas this year, said “Ummmm …chainsaw!” You get the picture.

Last year, we rented Tubbs snowshoes from EMS for him to try and they worked perfectly. Unfortunately, they changed that particular model and we weren’t able to find any to buy. So we started looking at what was on the market  and found a number of other quality snowshoes designed for smaller kids. The question was, would they fit Max? And could he move independently on them?

Lucky for us, Max is big for his age, and his feet are bigger still. His boots last year were size 10s. For this test,  he’s wearing size 11, so he was able to at least try all the models.

Looking At Kids’ Snowshoes: Do Kids Need Different Features?

Max showing off the rotating toe cord on the TSL Freeze. (Kate Goodin photo)

Choosing snowshoes for adults who know what they want to do on them is difficult enough. Choosing snowshoes for Max seemed even more daunting. For example, adult snowshoes basically come in two forms which, I’ve found, make the snowshoes perform very differently. But this difference isn’t always visible just by looking at the snowshoe. It’s in the “toe cord” which is the connection between the binding, which holds the boot, and the deck, which provides flotation. Adult shoes have either “rotating toe cords” which let the tail of the snowshoe drop as you take a step, or “tight” or “fixed” toe cords which restrict the drop of the snowshoe’s tail to varying degrees. Basically, for adults, tight toe cords are more maneuverable, rotating toe cords work better in deep snow.

We found to our surprise that kids’ snowshoes also offer a third option: no toe cord.  The snowshoe deck is bound directly to the foot. In theory, this should be the most maneuverable of all, and a possible advantage for the littlest snowshoers,

We tried to go into this test of kids’ snowshoes without any preconceived notions of which type of toe cord would work best. Keeping an open mind was not as easy as it sounds. I love my current snowshoes (2006 Tubbs Ventures), but my first pair of snowshoes were awful. They had very tight toe cords and constantly flipped snow onto my legs and back. I came home from every snowshoe trek cold and wet. I tolerated them for several years because I loved snowshoeing and I didn’t know there were options. Based on that experience I can’t think why an adult wouldn’t want a rotating toe cord on a snowshoe for general winter travel, and, in fact, that’s exactly what the entire EasternSlopes.com editorial team recommends. When I got the pair I use now it was like discovering that you could buy a car with a roof on it to keep the weather off you. What a great idea!

BUT, in the case of a little kids’ snowshoe, we saw it was possible for tight toe cords or even no toe cords to have their advantages. The maneuverability is definitely a plus. Kids rarely break trail for themselves for any distance. And when you send a little kid out in the snow, you’d better believe they are going to get it all over themselves, snowshoes or no snowshoes. Since they are probably going to be diving headfirst into it, having a little extra flung at them by their snowshoes isn’t going to matter all that much.

That being said, there are snowshoes for little ones that have a rotating toe cord. Somewhat bizarrely, Atlas touts the increased strength of the steel rotating toe cord on its Sprout 17 model while saying that the model for older kids, the Spark 20, has a fixed toe cord for easier maneuvering. Backwards logic? The question was: would a kid as young as three be able to handle the  maneuverability issues inherent with a rotating toe cord?

We decided to let Max’s experience on the shoes be our guide to what worked.

Binding Adjustment, User Weight and Deck Size

The test lineup, left to right LL.Bean Winter Walker 16, Yukon Charlie Junior, Atlas Sprout 17, MSR Tyker, TSL Trappeur. TSL 302 Freeze, Tubbs Storm, and Mom's and Dad''s snowshoes for size comparison. (Kate Goodin photo)

The other matter of concern was the physical size of the snowshoes and the ability to fit them to little kids. Obviously there’s a balancing act here. Bigger snowshoes are harder for a small kid to maneuver–especially a three year old. But bigger snowshoes will hold bigger kids so you’ll get more years out of your investment. Though 21-inch adult trail shoes will work for larger kids, we confined our tests to real “kid size shoes” under 20 inches long

Boot size is a hugely important factor when choosing a kids’ snowshoe. You absolutely must to be able to make the binding snug on their boot or the deal is off. Because Max has pretty big feet, we didn’t have too much trouble with this. Some of the bindings didn’t fit perfectly, but it was hard to tell whether that was because Max’s boots were on the small end of their range, or if it was just because of the design. I will say up front that if your child’s feet are smaller than size 10, I think only one of the recommended models, the MSR Tykers, will fit. Most of the manufacturers listed size 11 as the low end of the scale, but the few we tried last fall with Max’s size 10s tightened down enough to be perfectly functional.

The whole point of a snowshoe of course is to provide flotation in deep snow, keeping the wearer from sinking to their armpits. There is a lot of variability in what the manufacturers say regarding flotation. One 16″ shoe was supposed to provide enough flotation for 100 lbs, while another model, 3 inches longer, only claimed 90 lbs. I don’t think there’s a formula to come up with these numbers. How much sinking in what kind of snow is acceptable before you say someone needs more flotation? Our recommendation is to look at these numbers as a guideline only. According to the manufacturer’s specs, the weight range for the snowshoes we tested is 60-110 lbs. In general, a bigger deck is going to provide more flotation.

We found three models that worked particularly well for both Max and Mom, and we are giving these our top ratings. A fourth model gets a sort of lopsided thumbs up, and the final three didn’t make us so happy for some very specific reasons which may or may not be important to you and your little one. Our three favorite models are amazingly different from each other and worked well in very different ways. You might find that one particularly suits your child while another might not be as good; you’ll have to assess your child’s size, physical abilities and interest and patience levels to choose among the three. We’ve simply listed the top picks alphabetically by brand because they are so different we can’t really rate one as better than the others. Following those are shoes we didn’t rate as highly for our uses. We’ve tried to give very specific reasons why they didn’t work as well for us. Your child and your circumstances may be different and you may find they would work fine for you.

MSR Tykers: Dimensions: 6.5 x 17, Recommended Boot Size: 7.5 kid’s-4.5 men’s, Recommended Maximum Weight: 90 lbs, Toe cord: direct attachment.

The MSR Tykers are miniature versions of the proven adult model, with a binding that will fit the tiniest foot. (Tim Jones photo)

Two strong points we noticed right away on the MSR Tykers: First, the overall quality. These are not cheap plastic toys. In fact, they are basically the long-proven Denali adult shoe in a kid size. In addition to a lot of weight-carrying capacity, they offer some serious traction as well. Second, the bindings are both easy to use and seriously adjustable; three heavy duty rubber straps with holes to hook over metal tabs. And there are so many holes in those straps that if your little one can walk, you’ll likely be able to get these snowshoes secured on his or her boots. And it’s easy for Mom or Dad to do now, and for the child to do later.

Back to traction for a moment: A lot of the traction material on the bottom of the Tykers is plastic instead of metal. Most parents (me included) would likely be a bit freaked out if they’d made a kid’s snowshoe with as much scary looking metal on the bottom as there is on the adult MSR snowshoe. While the side traction bars are made of the same plastic as the decking, there is still a little metal, and there has to be. The plastic provides enough traction for snow, the metal helps dig in to crust and ice. Unless your wee one is going to be making icy, high-angle ascents, this is serious enough stuff to keep them moving. One caution, however: Because there is no articulation between boot/binding and the deck of the snowshoe, the wearer can’t point the toe crampon into a slope. Going up an icy or heavily crusted slope can be difficult. Keep that in mind if you and your little one climb lots of hills on hard snow.

The thing that really sets these MSRs apart is how tightly the snowshoe is held to the foot.  There isn’t a toe cord at all; in fact, there’s no articulation between the boot/binding and the deck of the snowshoe. If you are concerned about your kid getting tangled and tripped by a snowshoe that swings down and away from the foot, these are an excellent choice. Max performed an unauthorized (Mom note: at least I did not authorize it!) experiment and proved that, with these snowshoes on, when Mom’s back is turned, you can actually climb into a freestanding wheelbarrow without tipping it over or falling on your head. So the snowshoes get an A+ for maneuverability. And because the boot is so tight to the deck you don’t get the snow-catapult action you get with a tight toe cord. Add the bonus that these will fit just about the tiniest foot out there, and overall we’d have to say that these are the best entry level snowshoes for really little ones.

TSL 302 Freeze: Dimensions: 7 x 19 Recommended Shoe Size: junior 11-men’s 6, Recommended Weight: 40-110 lbs Toe cord: full rotating

Logging roads and hunters' trails are our stomping grounds. Max had no troubles with the rotating toe cord. (Kate Goodin photo)

Do not let the wild look of this snowshoe fool you. They really work. We had our doubts whether plastic toe crampons and a few steel nubbins in the back would provide much traction, but they really do the job. Max hiked up a hill with snow-covered ice in spots and never slipped once. (Mom note: What kind of mother am I that I guide my child towards the ice to see if his crampons work? The kind of mother who wants to know if his gear works before I let him get into real trouble on what he’s gonna try anyway…)

This snowshoe was one of only two that had a full rotating toe cord, unusual in a kids’ shoe, for the maneuverability reasons stated above. The first time Max tried these it seemed like it might be a bit of an issue, but not much. The second time, he hiked about a mile in the woods on snowmobile tracks and unpacked trails, through puckerbrush and over logs, and he never had a problem. He ran in them, crossed brooks and stone walls,  played hide-and-seek behind trees. Now, don’t get me wrong. He’s not quite three-and-a-half, but he’s been using snowshoes for a year and has tried different snowshoe models all winter. Be realistic when assessing not just your kid’s age and abilities, but temperament and interest level. If she’s easily frustrated or only tentatively interested, then getting tangled up a few times might just make her want to throw the snowshoes in the closet forever.

TSL’s website says shoe sizes for this model start at girls 13, a retailer says they fit junior 11 to men’s 6; we found that they fit Max’s 11s just fine. The binding on these shoes, like the snowshoe itself, is a bit weird looking, but again, don’t be put off by that. Pull on a tab and slide the heel cup back and forth to adjust the length for the individual boot. Once that is set, two Velcro straps hold the boot in. Just Velcro? Yup, just Velcro. As noted, Max walked a mile, over hill and dale, he crawled, he rolled, and the snowshoes didn’t budge.

TSL lists 110 pounds as the weight limit for these. It’s on the higher end, and one independent website says 90 pounds, but they are 19 inches long, two inches longer than the MSRs, so we can believe they’d give a little more flotation. And even as long as they are, the hourglass shape seems to make it easier for a little kid to walk with what amounts to really big feet.

Yukon Charlie’s Junior Series   Dimensions: 16 x 7, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: up to 100 lbs, Toe cord: tight

The Yukon Charlie's in action. (Kate Goodin photo)

The Yukon Charlie’s Junior Series Mountain Goat was the big surprise of the test. This is a really nice all-around snowshoe for kids! It has crampons where it needs crampons, front and back. They are aluminum and that’s more than fine on a kids’ snowshoe. Stainless might last longer but aluminum weighs less and if that means another quarter of a mile, out of him before he says, “Mommmmm…carry me!,” I’m good with that. Probably even more to the point, he isn’t likely to be in too many situations where he’ll be putting a lot of wear and tear on the crampons. When you’re crossing a rocky summit and the bare rock alternates with solid ice…that’s when your crampons really take a beating. It’ll be a few years before he’s on a winter hike of that caliber. Several of the other models we tried also had aluminum crampons, as do my snowshoes.

The toe cord on these is fixed. Does it throw a little snow? Yeah, a little. I see no reason to worry about this on a kids’ shoe. If your kid is anything like mine, no snowshoe can compete with the amount of snow he gets plastered on him just by being out in it. And at only 16 inches, there isn’t as much surface area to collect and throw snow to begin with.

I can’t find any mention of what size boot these Charlie’s will fit. They fit on Max’s 11s just fine.

The super-fast release cord on the binding of the Yukon Charlie's. (Kate Goodin photo)

The binding is super easy, not just to get into, but also out of. When the wearer is only three, “out-of” can be just as important as “in-to”. Emergencies happen.

The Yukon Charlie’s Juniors  are rated at 100 pounds of flotation, which seems a bit high for the 16 inch long deck. But even as big as Max is, it’s going to be a while before he comes close to that. If you are looking for a quality first snowshoe for a little kid, these deserve serious consideration. They have become our go-to shoe for everyday use, and with Max, snowshoeing is an every day activity.

If It Ain’t Broke . . .

Tubbs Storm  Dimensions: 19 x 7, Recommended Shoe Size: junior 11-men’s 6, Recommended Weight: 40-90 lbs, Toe cord: tight.

The new Tubbs Storm is a fine snowshoe--except for the difficult-to-use binding. We liked the old style much better. (Kate Goodin photo)

These snowshoes get a kind of lopsided thumbs-up from us. We’ve tried it in two versions, old and new and our verdict is: This snowshoe was perfect…before they changed it. The traction is great, right where it needs to be. The documentation that came with the shoe says the crampon is aluminum, while their website says it’s all stainless. It looks stainless. The deck gives plenty of flotation for his weight, and is rated up to 90 pounds, so there’s lots of room to grow. The toe cord is tight. With a 19 inch long deck you do get a little more snow thrown than with the Charlie’s, but again…adults may want to be out in the snow without being in the snow, but that’s not so true with a kid.

The primary difference between the old Storm and the new Storm, and the reason for our lukewarm recommendation of the new ones is in the bindings.  The old Storm had a binding similar to the the React binding that’s on my adult snowshoes and it worked perfectly; easy to put on, and it stays secure forever. I believe it is the same binding they still use on the Glacier, for older kids. But someone, somewhere in the universe, decided to “improve” a binding that worked perfectly . . .It’s now a single very stiff plastic strap with a ratcheting buckle that requires you to pinch, push and pull all at the same time to  snug it up adequately on small boots. While the new binding will fit Max’s boots, it ain’t quick or easy. When all is said and done, the bindings keep the snowshoes on, which is the point. But . . . based on our experience, we’d recommend looking for a pair of the older style. Some retailers may still have some in stock or you may find them on the used market.

Thumbs Down . . . For Specific Reasons

Redfeather Youth 20 Dimensions: 7 x 20, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: up to 80 lbs. Toe cord: tight

Otherwise a fine shoe, the Redfeathers didn't make the cut because they lacked heel traction of any kind. Max slipped and fell several times on a crusty hill that gave him no trouble on other snowshoes. (Kate Goodin photo)

These snowshoes are pretty neat looking. They are 20 inches long, but part of that length is just tail, so it doesn’t add as much flotation as you might think. Redfeather rates them at 80 pounds.The toe cord is the common fixed style (Redfeather calls it a “live action hinge”). We didn’t get to try them in soft snow, but wouldn’t be surprised if the tapered tail reduced any snow-throwing tendencies. We didn’t encounter any “flip” as we tested these on hard-packed snow. And this brings us to our one complaint with this shoe: Where we live and play, crampons are really important. These shoes are lacking 50% of what they should have. There’s a perfectly respectable toe crampon, but nothing under the heel. And that causes problems.

Using these shoes, Max fell three times in rapid succession on a small hill covered with crusty, packed snow. He’d already negotiated this same hill without any trouble on several other shoes. Based on those falls, we  immediately wrote these off as unacceptable for our needs. Yes, snowshoes were originally designed to keep the wearer from sinking in deep powder, but we all use our snowshoes for a lot more now and hard snow on hills is part of life, especially in the East.

However, if you live somewhere where the snow conditions are more consistently fluffy powder, or you always stay on level ground this might be a perfectly good choice; they are clearly well made.

We also had a minor complaint about the toe cap on these binding, a sort-of folded up rubber the toe of the boot slides into. No matter how they shape it, this type of binding while easy to use, always seems to fit less snugly than other designs, especially with a smaller boot. That being said, the bindings fit Max’s 11s, and the rest of the binding, two rubber straps with many holes (similar to the MSRs), was easily adjustable and easy to put on.

If it had a heel crampon, we’d have found this shoe recommendable.

L.L. Bean Winter Walker 16 Dimensions:16 x 8, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: up to 60 lbs, Toe cord: fixed

The underboot plate of the L.L. Bean binding creates a tripping hazard when adjusted to the smallest setting. (Kate Goodin photo)

These snowshoes get some rave reviews from folks on the L.L. Bean website. I can only imagine they are from people with larger kids who don’t have to adjust the binding size to fit a little one. In all the above snowshoes, binding size is either adjusted by simply having a binding that cinches down to fit the boot currently in it (the most basic adjustment I can imagine). In the case of the TSLs, adjusting for larger or smaller boots is a very simple matter: Lift the tab and slide. Takes about five seconds. Tip: do it with an empty boot so you’re not trying to hold your kid’s weight up off the thing you are trying to slide, while trying to slide it.

The L.L. Bean shoes annoyed me right out of the box when I realized that, to properly adjust them, I was going to need a socket wrench and a screwdriver. We tried them without adjusting for length, but found on our first outing that with the heel cap in the “larger “position, Max had almost no weight over the toe crampons, rendering them basically useless.

That meant I was going to have to go the wrench and screwdriver route to have any sense of whether or not the shoes performed well for Max.. Now, I don’t mean to be a whiner, but having little fiddly bits of snowshoe (nuts, bolts, crampons) loose on the living room floor was not my idea of fun, especially with an anxious three-year-old on the prowl… Perhaps it annoyed me in particular because it’s not necessary. Not one of the other snowshoes required me to disassemble the binding to get Max’s weight functionally distributed on the heel and toe crampons.

The real problem with the Bean binding revealed itself only after the bindings were correctly sized for Max’s boots. Once the heel cap was adjusted so that his weight was properly over the crampons, the flat plastic bottom of the binding protruded beyond the tips of his boots, tripping him. After less than five minutes, he’d had it and asked to take the shoes off.

You could cut the excess off the front of the plate, but in so doing you would eliminate the possibility of adjusting the binding when your child grew. With the flotation listed for this snowshoe at 25-60 pounds, it’s not like Max was on the small end of the spectrum of potential users of the snowshoe.

Everything else about this snowshoe is fine and it should work very well for larger kids with feet large enough to use the larger binding setting. It has a fixed toe cord, aluminum crampons at toe and heel—all good. Change the binding to something like the one on the Yukon Charlie’s have and you’d have…well, the Yukon Charlie’s…one of our top choices.

The “Kiddie Shoe” Conundrum

While the other snowshoes we tested were, in essence, downsized versions of adult shoes, the two that follow are clearly designed as “kiddie shoes,” and they simply did not perform as well in our conditions.

Atlas Sprout 17 Dimensions: 6.25 x 17, Recommended Shoe Size: none given, Recommended Weight: 30-80 lbs., Toe cord: Rotating

Snow packed in the bottoms of the Atlas Sprout model. This wasn't a wet snowfall. (Kate Goodin photo)

Some of the snowshoes we tested were as short, or even shorter, than the Sprout, but those all had the bonus of looking, and generally, behaving like a small version of an adult shoe. The Sprout has hard plastic decking, like the MSR Tyker, but the MSR is a mini-version of a well-respected adult shoe. This isn’t.

The Sprout , like the TSL Freeze, features a full rotating toe cord. We found it puzzling that Atlas advertises the fixed toe cord on the Spark 20 model (for older kids, remember) as allowing easier maneuvering and then puts a rotating toe cord on the snowshoe for the younger, presumably less coordinated kids. But be that as it may, Max showed us with the TSL 302 that it’s at least possible for a three-year-old to handle a rotating toe cord.

The trouble with this shoe is similar to the problem we had with the Redfeathers reviewed above. While not totally lacking in rear traction, these have no crampon. The underside of the decking is molded into a snowflake pattern—which makes prints in the snow that your kids are supposed to love, by the way. It provides some traction, but not enough for our conditions. And, worse, even in dry snow (at least by eastern standards), we found that the whole bottom of the snowshoe filled up like a cookie cutter with the cookie still stuck in it. This wasn’t in super dry powder, but here in New England we have very variable snow conditions. We might have cured the problem buy spraying the underside of the deck with silicone spray, but that shouldn’t be necessary. Frankly we don’t want snowshoes that don’t perform admirably in, at the very least, most of the conditions we are likely to encounter.

Atlas rates these snowshoes at 80 pounds of flotation. The binding was OK. The toe cap didn’t fit as snugly as others, but it seemed fairly secure and was pretty easy to put on. They don’t mention what boot size it is supposed to fit, but say that the snowshoe is recommended for ages 4-8.

Atlas also makes the the Spark 20, which we did not review. It looks like a miniature version of an adult shoe with front and rear crampons, fixed toe cord, and 120 pound maximum weight. In retrospect, this model would have been more comparable to the others in the test. We intend to test this model as soon as possible. It has the same binding as the Sprout, meaning it should work reasonably well with Max’s boots.

TSL Trappeurs  Dimensions: 20 x7, Recommended Shoe Size:10.5-4, Recommended Weight: 30-65 lbs., Toecord: tight

Max showing off the tails of the TSL Trappeurs. Unfortunately, they easily tangle in the slats of the decking. (Kate Goodin photo)

The TSL Trappeurs looked, on paper, like they might be a good first snowshoe for little kids. They mirror the shape of old-style snowshoe designs, including tails, but they are molded of an extremely rugged plastic that will stand up to hard “kid use.” When we first tested these last season, we went out in after a late-winter storm with no concerns about him getting in the mud where it was exposed. The snowshoes are very simple and plastic and muck rinsed off easily before we put them away.

The recommended weight range for the TSL Trappeurs is 30-65 pounds. The bindings on these are super-simple, just a rubber galoshes-type toe with an elastic heel loop, and should fit boot sizes 10.5 – 4. For some kids this might be great as they would be able to easily put on their own snowshoes as long as they had the finger strength to pull the sturdy rubber. Max. like most kids, likes to do things on his own; and that increases his desire to participate. But we found that, while the simplicity of this design is a great idea, the rubber is, by necessity, such a tight fit on the boot that we can’t imagine a little kid being able to pull it on all by himself or herself. Once they are strong enough to deal with the Trappeur binding, they are probably ready to figure out and use a more “complicated” design.

When Max was two-and-a-half, he had one issue with these snowshoes. He frequently tangled the tails in the lateral perforations in the decking. That long, skinny tail kept catching in the other shoe and tripping him up, which he found frustrating. An older kid with more experience just-plain-walking might not have so much trouble, but since these are supposed to be for little kids…

Our other concern with this shoe was traction. With three rounded-off metal points, two under the ball of the foot and one under the heel, they offer some traction, but it doesn’t compare to our recommended models above. On perfectly flat ground or always in soft snow, this might be fine, but I challenge you to stay on soft snow and flat ground while tramping in the woods in New England.

While it looks simple and cute, these shoes are too simple and too cute to really function. We felt that they would end up disappointing and frustrating a child rather than encouraging him or her to really develop a love of snowshoeing. Fortunately, TSL also makes the excellent 302 Freeze, a much better investment if you want serious snowshoes for your child.

The Takeawy

What’s really amazing in this whole test is that we found so many quality snowshoes for  kids. We proved that, literally, if your child can walk independently, you can choose snowshoe options that will work. Even the snowshoes we didn’t particularly like for our uses were well made and would likely suit someone else. In other words, you definitely don’t have to settle for cheap junk, nor do you need to spend a fortune to get snowshoes that will keep your child smiling and happy on snow until he or she is ready for adult-sized shoes.

Frame, filler, binding and cleats, the four major components of a modern snowshoe. (Tim Jones photo)

There are lots of modern snowshoes on the market these days and the variety can be confusing—especially since most look a lot alike. Different shoes with different features are better for different jobs, and picking the right ones for you and your needs can be challenging.

By the way, we are only dealing here with “modern” snowshoes. There are some older designs out there that still work, and if you already own them and like them, go out and have a ball. Wooden snowshoes, for example, are lovely to look at, and still float you on top of the snow. But like wooden boats, they are mostly used by traditionalists who appreciate the aesthetics and craftsmanship inherent in working with wood. This story is for people who are buying their first snowshoes or looking to upgrade older models to something with, perhaps, more performance and practicality. And we are going to focus entirely on snowshoes for the east, where we have more hills than mountains and snow that can range from boilerplate blue ice to deep soft fluff–often on the same trail on the same day.

The way to begin sorting out snowshoes is to imagine what, specifically you are going to do on them and, to some extent, where you are going to do it. As we see it, there are two general categories of snowshoes; there’s no official name for them, but, for lack of better terms, let’s call them racing/running, and backcountry/general use.

Little bitty snowshoes that don’t flop around are a real advantage when running on packed trails, not so good in deep, untracked snow. (Tim Jones photo)

Racing/running snowshoes are designed primarily for aerobic workouts and are almost always better used on packed or heavily crusted snow. Backcountry/general use snowshoes will go anywhere; they are the ATVs of the winter world. Real backcountry shoes are designed primarily for use in untracked snow and a variety of conditions, including wearing a backpack and dealing with steep slopes and sidehills. Not surprisingly, shoes that work well for racing/running tend to be awful for backcountry and vice versa. If you want to go running on snowshoes for exercise in winter, and you also want to put on a pack and go exploring the untracked, you are going to need two pairs of snowshoes.

You’ll very often see a category of snowshoes labeled “recreational.” This is a catch-all title for “value priced” snowshoes that don’t have all the features of top-of-the-line snowshoes. But the truth is there are “recreational” snowshoes that are better for running/racing and others that are better for backcountry/general use. You just need to recognize the differences.

Where things get confusing is that manufacturers often aren’t clear about what a snowshoe is best for. Their job is to get you to buy their snowshoes, so of course they make the ones that are best for everything, right? In our experience, even the salespeople at outdoor shops (and, apparently, some journalists who write about snowshoeing) are sometimes fuzzy about the finer points of snowshoes. So your best strategy is to learn all you can, ask lots of questions, and try as many snowshoes as you can before you buy. The more you know about yourself, what you want to do and what works for you, the more likely you are to find the right snowshoes for you on the first try.

A full rotating toe cord lets the heel of the snowshoe drop freely to shed snow from the deck--very useful in deep snow. (Tim Jones photo)

The first key to categorizing snowshoes is in how the binding (the part that holds your boot) is attached to the deck (the platform that keeps you from sinking into the snow). Here’s how you tell in an instant if a snowshoe is going to be better for running/racing or backcountry/general snowshoeing: simply pick up the snowshoe by the binding. If the tail of the snowshoe immediately drops without resistance (imagine the tail of the shoe staying on the snow as you pick up your foot), that’s a backcountry/general use snowshoe. If the tail of the snowshoe wants to lift along with the binding, that is the hallmark of a snowshoe that’s better for running/racing and use on packed snow. We’ll explain these distinctions more clearly in a moment.

The other key characteristic is the size of the deck. Basically, a larger snowshoe provides more flotation but weighs more. Racing/running snowshoes are usually as small and lightweight as possible. Remember, they are generally used on packed trails, so flotation isn’t as important. While some “general purpose” snowshoes are quite small (for smaller, lighter people who don’t carry a heavy pack and don’t break trail in deep snow), most “backcountry” snowshoes are larger to provide more flotation.

You’ll notice we haven’t talked at all yet about materials. Frankly, we’ve tried great snowshoes with aluminum frames and synthetic decking, and great snowshoes molded of composites or plastic. That’s a matter of preference. Then there are details like ease of binding use, amount and placement of traction, extras like heel lifts. All those are decisions you’ll have to deal with eventually before you  plunk down your hard-earned cash. But the key to finding the right snowshoe is starting in the right general category for what you want to do.

A "tight" or "fixed" toe cord lifts the tail to the shoe when the boot is lifted. This keeps the snowshoe from flopping forward when running but can also flip snow up onto the wearer. Some toe cords are tighter than others; these are about mid-range, (David Shedd photo)

The Toe Cord Conundrum

The point of attachment between the binding and the deck on a snowshoe is technically called the “toe cord. ” The term is a  holdover from the days when snowshoes were made of wood and rawhide and the feet were held to the shoe by, well, cord. As noted above most modern snowshoes for adults come either with “rotating” or “pivoting”  toe cords (also called “axles” by some manufacturers), which allow the snowshoe deck to pivot freely and the tail of the snowshoe to stay on the snow while you lift the toe, or “tight” (sometimes called “fixed”) toe cords which hold the deck more firmly so the tail drops only a little, if at all, when you pick up the shoe.

Tight/fixed toe cords work best on hardpacked snow and are especially popular with snowshoe racers/runners because the tails can’t flop forward as you run (which can easily trip you up). But they have three huge disadvantages for general use in a variety of conditions. First, you must always pick up the weight of the entire snowshoe and any snow that’s on it with each step. That can get tiring quickly, especially in deep, heavy, wet snow. Second, tight toe cords have a nasty tendency to flip snow up with each step onto the user’s legs and back (and even down the back of your neck). Nice for keeping you cool in a race, not so good for staying dry and comfortable on a long wilderness trek in untracked snow. One of the major snowshoe companies calls their tight toecord a “live action hinge.” One of our testers who has tried these particular snowshoes calls them “wicked flippahs.” And third, in deep snow a tight toe cord tends to make it more likely that the tip of the snowshoe will get caught as you step forward (particularly under a crust), which can make YOU the “wicked flippah”!

The tails of these larger snowshoes stay on the snow when you lift the tip to take a step. That lets any snow on them slide off. They work well on crust as shown here but even better in untracked snow. (Tim Jones photo)

By contrast, rotating toe cords allow the tail of the snow to drop so snow slides off with each step, which also causes the tip to easily lift up and over the snow, reducing faceplants. You never pick up the full weight of the shoe–the tail slides along on the snow. This is a real advantage with the larger, longer shoes typically used for backcountry travel in untracked snow. Shoes that pivot freely are a bit harder to maneuver (there’s no “reverse” ) but they are a far better choice for backcountry use and general snowshoeing.

Our Executive Editor  Tim Jones writes a syndicated newspaper  column called Active Outdoors.  A couple of years ago, Tim received an email from a reader complaining that, every time he tried to use his snowshoes, they banged his shins. He asked what he was doing wrong. The answer, of course, was that he was using the wrong snowshoes for what he wanted to do. Further questioning established that this reader was using snowshoes to run for winter exercise. He also happened to be very tall (6-feet 4 inches). Every time he took a long running stride,  the tail of the snowshoe swung forward and the toe of the shoe banged him in the shin. His snowshoes obviously had a full rotating toe cord and were, simply, the wrong snowshoe for what he wanted to do.

On the other end of the scale, Kate Goodin, one of our ace gear testers, and the lead writer for our forthcoming Kids’ Snowshoe Review tells us: “My first pair of snowshoes were awful. I tolerated them for two years because I loved snowshoeing and didn’t know there were options. They had VERY tight toe cords with just enough swing to give a real catapult effect. They flung snow between my legs, up my back, onto the back of my head and, often, down the back of my jacket as it came back to earth from on high. After every snowshoe outing, my thighs were red, raw, and frozen. It was not pleasant in the least. Discovering snowshoes with full rotating toe cords was like discovering you could buy a car with a roof to keep the snow off.”

Needless to say, the EasternSlopes.com editorial staff  strongly recommends a freely pivoting, “rotating” toe cord for the highly variable snow conditions we encounter in the east. It’s simply a better all-purpose design. If you are going to run a lot on your snowshoes, stick mainly to packed trails and don’t mind getting pelted with snow with each step, choose “tight” toe cords. And if you want to do a lot running and occasional backcountry use, well, not all “tight” toe cords are created equal. Some are tighter than others, flip more snow than others.

The one exception to that rule is if you do most of your hiking in thick softwoods, where you’re likely to have to clamber over a lot of  blowdowns.  This is the one time that a tighter toe cord can be a help; it makes it easier to get the snowshoe over a downed tree, and the snow is often not as deep in those areas.  Think carefully before you decide that you fit this category, though; if you hike a ways through fields or open hardwoods to get to those areas, you’ll be so tired before you get to the woods that you won’t be able to get over the downed trees anyway!

In his photo, you can actually see the snow sliding off the deck of this snowshoe as the boot is lifted and the tail stays on the snow. That's one huge advantage of a full rotating toe cord.(Tim Jones photo)

Size Matters

Every snowshoe manufacturer and even some retailers offer charts to help you pick the right size snowshoe for you.  They are always based on weight, which is absolutely correct. The more you weigh, the more flotation you need. And bigger snowshoes mean more surface area and more flotation.

For running on packed trails, the rule of thumb is simple: choose the smallest shoe you can possibly get away with. Smaller shoes are lighter and less cumbersome, will let you travel faster and farther in ideal conditions. General use is another matter entirely.

In our not-so-humble opinion, most size charts for picking snowshoes err on the small side for general use. Yes, smaller snowshoes offer a weight advantage, and a snowshoe that’s too big for the user can make for an awkward stride and uncomfortable walking. But it appears to us that most snowshoe size charts are generally biased toward packed trails. That is, after all, where most folks apparently go snowshoeing.

However, untracked snow and a backpack full of winter gear demand larger snowshoes. We strongly  feel that, no matter how small you are, if you ever intend to step into untracked snow, especially wearing a backpack, you shouldn’t even consider a 21-inch shoe (often sold as “women’s” models).  Most women will do better with a 25-inch shoe for all around use, most men with a 30-inch. If you are a larger person or carrying a heavy pack regularly, or hike in an area that often has deep, light snow, you may need to consider larger still.

In other words, we generally recommend putting yourself on the low to middle end of the size chart. If you are shading toward the upper end of the recommended weight, go a size larger. That will give you the flexibility to carry a pack and deal with deep, untracked snow. Modern snowshoes aren’t all that heavy, so the weight penalty for going up a size isn’t all that bad, anyway.

Snowshoes come in all sizes, shapes and colors, finding the right ones for you takes some thought--but the results are all fun. (Tim Jones photo)

One thing to watch out for when upsizing snowshoes is width. Too wide a shoe can make walking with a natural gait difficult (like  the traditional “bearpaws”, which had you walking like a cowboy after a long day on a barrel-shaped horse). Some snowshoes are shaped to “nest” as one is moved forward of the other. We strongly recommend trying these on snow before you buy to make sure the shape of the shoe works with your natural stride.

Other Considerations

Beyond toe cords and overall size, there are some other considerations that make a specific pair of snowshoes right—or wrong—for you.

One of the biggest factors we encounter when testing a variety of snowshoes is ease of use. You’d be amazed at the differences that you might not notice without comparing models side-by-side. Snowshoe bindings should be easy to get into and out of even with frigid fingers inside bulky gloves. That said, most snowshoe bindings have a bit of a learning curve and some very good ones need adjustment prior to being taken out into the snow. Our advice when picking snowshoes is to wear your biggest, most cumbersome gloves and see if you can work the binding with them. If you can’t quickly learn to do that in a warm shop or your own living room, you are probably going to have trouble out in the snow when it’s below zero and the wind is howling.

Still on the subject of bindings, some are made to hold your boot more firmly than others. The less your foot moves side to side in a binding, the more control you are going to have on sidehills, which are often the toughest challenge for snowshoes. That’s why real backcountry snowshoes will frequently have beefier (and sometimes heavier) bindings than general purpose or recreational shoes. This is something to consider if you intend to tackle steeper hills and tougher trails.

All modern snowshoes come with traction crampons built in, but some are much more aggressive than others. On the MSR Lightning Ascent snowshoes, for example, essentially the whole frame provides traction. The Tubbs Couloir snowshoes we tested two years ago (similar to the new Mountaineer) have a total of 16 1-1/2-inch spikes under the toe and heel of the boot. Other models have much less traction. Obviously traction counts on steep, sidehilled or icy terrain. Our general advice if you are ever going to leave behind flat terrain is to err on the side of having too much traction rather than too little.

Renting snowshoes at a Nordic Center (here at the Trapp Family Lodge in Vermont) is a wonderful way to try before you buy. Just be sure to try them off the packed trail if that's what you intend to do on your own. (Warner Shedd photo)

Finally, some snowshoes, particularly backcountry models, have heel lifts which flip up to provide support for your heel as you are climbing steep terrain. This not only prevents fatigued calves but also helps to keep crampons engaged in the snow to prevent slipping. It’s a nice feature if you are going to climb steep slopes (the longer and steeper the slope, the more you need it). But if you stick mainly to flat or gently rolling terrain, you will probably never use it. Extras add to the cost and weight of a snowshoe; think about what you intend to do, and you’ll have a better idea of whether they’re worth it for you.

Try Before You Buy

Our final recommendation is to try snowshoes on snow before your buy them. Lots of retail stores, Nordic ski resorts, lodges and recreation programs rent snowshoes. Winter Trails Day in early January offers a host of free snowshoe events. Charity events like the Tubbs Romp To Stomp Out Breast Cancer have snowshoes galore to try. And you can always borrow from friends . . .unless, of course, they want to be out playing in the snow, too!

If you are looking for a safe, easy way to bring your family on an outdoor adventure this winter, Lucie Villeneuve can help. (Tim Jones photo)

The little town of Errol in the Great North Woods Region of New Hampshire, is kinda quiet, out of the way (on the Maine border, 20 miles or so north of Berlin), and surrounded by hills, lakes and rivers. In other words, it’s the perfect town if you are looking to find or hold onto winter, or if you enjoy hiking, mountain biking and, especially, paddlesports in summer.

I was in the Errol neighborhood on a winter camping by dogsled adventure on beautiful Lake Umbagog, and built in an extra day to explore a little more of the area. An extra week would have been better. I still wouldn’t have seen it all.

I’d first gotten the idea from the folks at the Northern Forest Canoe Trail. The NFCT is a magnificent 740-mile water passage from Old Forge, New York to Fort Kent, Maine. It’s a paddler’s dream in the summer, but often forgotten in the winter. The NFCT is building partnerships along the trail to help get more people out and exploring year ’round. Worthy goal, and they are doing a great job.

It's the guide's job to break trail up steep slopes for the clients, and Lucie attacked the steeps with glee. (Tim Jones photo)

In Errol, they have partnered with Lucie Villeneuve of Outdoor ESCAPES New Hampshire,  who will arrange guided paddling or hiking adventures in the warmer months and cross-country skiing or snowshoeing in the winter. There are several lodging options for these packages in Errol. The one I selected was 150 Main Street Lodging On The Androscoggin, where owner/hosts Debbie  and Bill Freedman operate a very cozy, comfortable and welcoming guest house right on the banks of the river on the edge of Errol. The Androscoggin here is, of course, part of the Northern Forest Canoe Trail, and it’s literally, steps from the backdoor. Bill is an avid fly fisherman, and would be a terrific resource if you want to fish the area in summer. I ate dinner with the Freedmans that night at the Trading Post Restaurant, a few miles north of Errol in Magalloway, Maine. Bill and I talked fishing all night. Debbie looked like she was used to it. My other meals I took at the Northern Exposure Restaurant, practically next door, hearty home-cooked food to fuel an outdoor adventure.

Speaking of outdoor adventures . . .since I’d just come from three days and two nights of dogsledding, skiing, and winter camping on flat, packed trails around Lake Umbagog, and since there was more than a foot of fresh powder on top of a deep base of snow, I asked Lucie if she’d mind searching for some untracked snow on a slope. She was happy to oblige and made it clear that she will customize adventures to her clients’ desires and abilities.

Since it was just the two of us, and since we are both experienced and avid backcountry skiers, we decided to ski up (“up” being the operative word–remember this for later) the summer access road to Munn Pond, just south of Errol. Even with skis on we were sinking knee deep into the soft snow in the woods. At one point, where the snow-covered road was narrow and especially steep, we detoured onto the packed snow of a nearby snowmobile trail to scale the slope more easily. Sometimes, the longer route is the faster (and easier!) one.

Munn Pond was beautiful, nestled among quiet hills. Though we knew from having skied up a bit of it that there was a snowmobile trail not far away, we couldn’t hear it, and we skied across the lake hearing only the soft sigh of the wind and the hiss of our skis on the snow. Just beautiful. We saw tracks of moose, coyote, ruffed grouse and snowshoe hare, but no tracks of other people. Lucie is a born teacher, good at pointing out and explaining the wonders of nature you see on a trek like this. After a couple of hours of pushing our ski tips into lovely, silent places, we reluctantly headed back down the hill toward the car.

Wheeeee!!!! The payoff for climbing up was skiing down through some deep untracked powder. We enjoyed it so much, we went back up and did it again! (Tim Jones photo)

Remember all that “UP” I mentioned before? Well, baby, this was payoff time!!!

The steep slope we had avoided coming up was now a quarter-mile narrow ribbon of pristine, deep, untracked snow winding through the trees. I went first, swooping down through knee-deep snow, whooping all the way for the pure joy of it, breaking tracks for Lucie to follow. My tracks allowed her to gain speed and she flew past me as I stood to the side of the trail. We were both giggling when we stopped.

In fact, we  had so much fun, we decided to follow our original tracks out to the snowmobile trail, back up the hill and do it all over again. This time, the extra speed and momentum carried us back into the tracks of our original climb and we coasted all the way down to the car. What a great finish!

The  Guided Advantage

By choosing a guided trip, I found not only good companionship, but also a place I probably never would have explored on my own. Not all of us are lucky enough to know someone experienced who can inspire us to try something new and get us started safely. Many of us need outside help with getting motivated, planning and safely executing an outdoor adventure.

Joining an outing club or a group like your local chapter of the AMC, Green Mountain Club or Adirondack Mountain Club is always a good way to meet people who can show you how to get started. You can also get help getting started from outdoor equipment companies like L.L. Bean with their “Walk-On Adventures” programs at many of their stores, REI with its Outdoor School, and EMS with its climbing, kayak and ski schools. All are good options.

But hiring a guide like Lucie makes it very personal. You get to dictate the schedule and the activities you desire. The guide provides the expertise to help you enjoy the adventure without worry. A good guide is well worth the price if you are exploring something new or an area that’s new to you.

We had perfect weather and snow conditions for the ski trip we had planned but she made it clear that she was well prepared with other options if Mother Nature didn’t cooperate. That willingness to go with what the client and the weather dictate makes her a great resource for individuals, but especially for families looking for adventure. Lucie, I discovered, is the mother of two beautiful kids, and a former cross-country ski instructor at both The Balsams Wilderness (which will be closed for the winter of 2011/12 and reopening in summer 2012) in nearby Dixville Notch, N.H and at Gunstock Nordic Center in Gilford, N.H. She also has other guides who work with her throughout the year. As a young mother herself, she’s particularly attuned to the needs of families with young kids. She operates trips throughout New Hampshire, almost year ‘round. In the summer, she specializes in canoeing, hiking, and biking.

Dan, Sam, and me ready to take on Mount Prospect! Compare this with the "after" picture for a good laugh.

One of the least intelligent things I’ve done recently happened late last winter, when the heavy winter snows that pounded the east coast were beginning to melt into rivers. It was in these conditions that several of my friends and I thought a winter camping trip would be a good idea. But my notion of camping (a group of good friends toasting marshmallows by a campfire) didn’t quite match the reality my first winter camping adventure. In fact, our little expedition turned out to be more of an adventure than even my more adventurous companions had planned.

The idea for the trip came from my then-boyfriend, Sam, who loves the outdoors as much as I do and wanted to go camping for his birthday. We were both enthusiastic, and we did a lot of things right throughout the trip. I’ll share a few of those before I detail all those not-so-right things we did.

I never could have done it without Sam. He knew we’d need snowshoes. He told me to dress in lightweight layers in case we sweated when hiking, and that wool layers help keep you warm even if they do get wet. The goal in winter camping is to remain dry. Lesson: When the sun starts to set, clothing saturated with rain, snow, or sweat quickly become cold and dangerous.

Sam helped me evenly distribute weight in my backpack and chivalrously carried most of our shared gear in his own pack. He reminded me to pack extra wool socks, which turned out to be critical. He remembered Advil for headaches, a small stove since making a fire in snow (or ever) is difficult, moleskin (which our friend Dan used when a blister rubbed up), and extra cord which always seems to come in handy.

Another thing we did right: Sam, Dan, and I all told our family and friends exactly where we were going and when we expected to be back to the car. Lesson: Whenever  you go into the wild, let people who care about you know where you’re headed and when you’ll be back. Although it probably terrified my mother, I told her to call local authorities if she didn’t hear from me by 4 p.m. on Sunday. If some disaster had struck and our parents and friends didn’t hear from us, they would have sent out a search team.

Sam emailed me packing lists, my dad emailed me advice, and I emailed myself survival tips. If you’re planning to go winter camping, I recommend you use this list put together by the Eastern Slopes editors: How To: Winter Camping Checklist. If you’re missing any larger items of gear, your nearest EMS or REI store will rent gear for a small fee, and happily sell you any other things you need. We brought plenty of two hiking essentials you can’t find at any store: good attitudes and a thirst for adventure. I learned during the trip, however, that one of the most important things we forgot to pack was common sense. And that’s where the not-so-right choices began.

Danny Kern pauses at the trail's head with about 50 pounds of gear on his back. (Caroline McDonald photo)

We left Boston an hour, (OK, two)  later than we had originally planned. Lesson: On any group camping trip, someone will be late, so plan accordingly. Leaving a little late should have put me on the alert (particularly for winter camping, when the days are short, the nights are cold, and your margin for error is MUCH smaller!), but I wasn’t going to let it bother me. A beautiful three-hour drive later, we arrived at our jump-off point.

Mount Prospect  in the Mount Greylock State Reservation, nestled in the Berkshire Mountains of western Massachusetts. It’s only a few miles from the Norman Rockwell-esque college community of Williamstown. A flat, tree-lined pathway leads you across some fields to start. From there, the trail disappears into the forest. The walk in to the trail proper looked like a frozen, shining entry into a wonderful new world. Turned out that world was just a little harsher than we expected.

We planned the trip for early March, that long-awaited time of year when the temperatures finally begin to climb above freezing, and the ground thaws. It wasn’t too cold to enjoy the tiny, red checkerberries peeking out from under the melting snow, or the rush of the river our hike paralleled.

But the first signs of spring mean more than a picturesque trek through the woods. The unstable weather conditions cause a precarious combination of thawing and freezing which turned the record snows of last season  soft and unstable. Snowshoes were necessary to keep on top of the snow rather than knee-deep in it. Additionally, the “brooks” marked off on the trail map had turned to roaring rivers.

Take note: You should NEVER have a picture taken of you like this because you should never be in this situation. Standing on slippery rocks in near-freezing temperatures is a recipe for disaster. (Caroline McDonald photo)

At the first “brook,” the  little voice of reason in my head said, “This can’t be the right way. Trails don’t take you across rivers. Rivers get you wet, and wet is bad.” But the boys were sure it was the right way. I’m no chicken, but I think my brain shrunk to chicken-sized in that moment, and I crossed the river with them. At that point, we should have turned back and chosen a safer alternate route. Lesson: If it’s winter and you’re hiking, DO NOT risk getting wet. Any of us could have slipped and fallen in the river, completely submerging ourselves. Getting soaked at those temperatures would have immediately put us in a life-and-death survival situation we may or may not have been able to handle. With no one around for miles and no cell phone service, a tough hike out as the sun was setting would have been our only option, and hypothermia would have been a serious threat. Fortunately, none of us slipped.

But here’s one place where I prove conclusively I was dumber than the boys. They had waterproofed their boots; I hadn’t. While stepping across the river on rocks didn’t get their boots wet, it did mine. Hence, Lesson: Waterproof your boots. For a few bucks and a hour of time, you can assure yourself dry boots, or at least boots drier than mine were after that first river crossing.

We crossed two more “rivers” that evening, and, by that time, all of our boots were completely soaked. Crossing the streams was the only way to get to the site where we had planned to camp, and we were determined to get there. Looking back, I’m embarrassed to admit that I made such an unintelligent choice. But not wanting to ruin our fun on my boyfriend’s birthday trip, I meekly went along. We didn’t make it to the site that night. The sun began to set, and I insisted we find a spot and set up camp. The boys finally agreed. Here’s something we did right. Lesson: If the sun is setting, it’s better to stop, set up camp and be sure everything is properly assembled rather than continue. Trying to find a good spot, set up a tent, and get situated can take a while, and it’s very difficult with only a few flashlights.

When you’re winter camping, modern comforts that we take for granted every day are a big deal. It’s easy to forget that people are entirely dependent on sunlight and warmth to function when we live in houses where heat and lights come on with the flick of a finger. It’s not so simple on the side of a mountain when you’re surrounded by snow. Getting our feet dry and warm was the evening’s goal. Thanks to the extra wool socks and foot warmers, we succeeded in rewarming our cold feet.

The Money Brook Trail was lush with fir and birch trees, and it was great to be able to cross a brook with dry feet.. (Caroline McDonald photo)

That night we could hear the wet snow and rain falling outside. I was glad we’d taken the time to be sure the rain fly was properly set up. But we made another rookie mistake. Sam had packed an extra-large tarp to go under the tent–so  the water that slid off the rainfly splashed onto the tarp where some of it ran under the tent. Not surprisingly, the bottom of the tent became damp. Lesson: If you are going to use a ground cloth under your tent, make sure it is covered by the rainfly.

I was grateful Sam and I had packed Therm-a-rest mats. Dan didn’t fare as well without one. Lesson: A pad is as essential for warmth in cold-weather camping as a sleeping bag.

The  morning dawned cold, still, and beautiful. A light snow fell on us as we packed up and set out. The hike up Mount Prospect proved to be one of the most challenging and rewarding days I’ve ever had. The “brooks” we’d crossed the day before didn’t scare me nearly as much as that hike up the mountain did.

The trail was incredibly steep and icy, and my snowshoes didn’t have traction spikes on them. Lesson: Invest in traction aids for safe winter hiking. Creepers, crampons, or snowshoes with spikes make a huge difference if you hike in ice or snow. In our case, crampons would have been the most useful. I’ve since found them to be an easy, lightweight solution to icy hiking. They aren’t as cumbersome as snowshoes and make avoiding tree roots easier.

Navigating the Money Brook Trail with its roots and ice, all with a heavy pack on, was no small feat. All of all of our attention was on the trail before us. The extreme conditions demanded no less. In this physically challenging environment, I found the greatest reward. The hiking introduced a primal sort of Zen. My only concerns were the well-being of the others and the steps in front of me. No room in my mind was left to care about answering emails or how stupid my hat looked (as the pictures will tell).

Our greatest triumph came when we reached a shelter located near the mountain’s peak. There, we indulged in just-add-hot-water burritos out of a bag. I swear it was the tastiest Mexican food I’ve ever eaten. After a short rest, we continued our hike onto the Prospect Trail until we reached an overlook near the summit. A moment with the clear air and perfect, untouched snow justified the tough hike up. We admired the view and added a stone to the cairn started by other brave hikers who had also reached the top. We couldn’t linger for too long though. We had a river to cross and camp to set up before nightfall.

What a reward! 1266 feet of uphill backpacking led us to the summit of Mount Prospect and an unforgettable view. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Whereas I’d found the hike up to be the toughest part, the boys thought coming down was far more challenging. They were carrying more weight than I was, so toppling over was a very real possibility. Lesson: Trekking poles are a safety essential. Before the trip, I’d thought the trekking poles were an extraneous toy for the boys. But during the hike I wished I had brought them, too. They came in handy several times. That night, we used to them to hang damp clothes  by a fire.

The adrenaline I’d been pumping all weekend made the hike out seem easy on Sunday morning, especially compared to the mountain we’d scaled the day before. I didn’t realize how exhausted I was until we reached the car. I felt happy and very lucky to have all of my body parts intact and at  98.6 degrees.

A week later, I couldn’t stop talking about our weekend adventure. I still bring it up frequently. I felt proud of my body for going through the extreme weather and physical exertion. The high was unbeatable.

However, a lot of things we did were plain dumb. Getting out alive was as much pure luck as physical accomplishment and preparedness. I wish we’d planned better, and made better decisions on the way. Maybe I would have if I’d read Hike Wisely before I went.

Feeling both exhausted and proud after three days of winter hiking and camping. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Lesson: Winter camping is a blast.  I encourage every adventurous heart to try it. However, be sure you learn in increments and are prepared to get out safely even if the worst situation arises. Keep my tips and mishaps in mind when you start planning this winter’s camping adventures. And don’t forget to listen when your common sense pipes up! It’s trying to keep you safe!

Edie hiking to eagle viewing spot (Warner Shedd photo)

No, we aren’t entering our second childhood, nor do we expect you to start working on Boy Scout merit badges! We’re talking about the real thing – looking for those magnificent birds that are our national symbol. If you’ve ever seen a bald eagle in person, you know it’s an experience you won’t soon forget.

So it was during a vacation to Prince Edward Island (PEI) in June that we went looking for bald eagles and adventures for seniors. We discovered that there would be plenty of both on PEI, which is decribed as a magical place by everyone we know who has been there.  Yes, we’re aware that we headed to another country to see our national bird, but they’re allowed to take vacations in Canada as much as we are!

We left the mainland and crossed the eight-mile-long Confederation Bridge one morning, driving over what is considered one of Canada’s great engineering and construction feats.  It’s almost worth the trip just to cross it; it’s truly impressive!  Then we turned northeast in order to visit The Cheese Lady’s, where utterly delicious Gouda cheese is made (let’s face it, there’s no escaping good food when we go to Canada; it’s a trial, but we persevere). The Cheese Lady and her helpers sell many different Goudas, some flavored with various herbs and others aged for different lengths of time. We bought three different goudas to sample (splitting the cost between us so that it would be a true “Dutch treat”), and we can tell you it was money well spent!

Then we headed for Mount Stewart where, every year in June, bald eagles gather on Hillsborough Heritage River to feed on the annual run of alewives.  Apparently, it’s not just people (like us!) who “road trip” to Canada for the food.  For the record, alewives have nothing to do with either brewed beverages, spouses, or even spouses who have consumed brewed beverages. They’re a kind of fish, very abundant and, apparently, very tasty to eagles (which are a kind of fish hawk). The town, however, ignores the alewives and simply calls it an annual Bald Eagle Festival with events galore and opportunities to watch the eagles and learn about the Canadian Maritimes ancient cultures.

Because we are confirmed eagle scouts — they are one of our favorite excuses to go exploring — we drove past the Hillsborough River Eco-Centre in Mount Stewart, across a little bridge, and then parked just off a road named Pigot’s Trail that led through fields and along woods beside a lake.  Armed with binoculars and rain jackets, we hiked about a half mile on a wide and flat trail to an eagle observation area. The walking was easy and along the way we stopped to watch a highly trained Labrador retriever perform; it was fascinating to watch him respond to a variety of hand signals and voice commands — especially when he had to retrieve two widely spaced dummies (no, not us…REAL dummies). Then it was on to see the eagles.

Closeup of mature bald eagle. (Ellen Shedd photo)

Soon we came to a side trail, apparently without a name, that turned left and led out onto a long point. In our estimation, it was the best bald eagle observation spot because it juts farther out into the lake than the rest of the shoreline and provides almost a 270 degree view. When we reached the viewing area, we were very glad to have our rain jackets, for the wind was blowing a near gale, and the temperature was somewhere in the upper 40s!  Raingear does great double duty as a windbreaker, luckily for us. We didn’t mind, however, because we tolerate cold far better than hot weather and the wind kept the hordes of mosquitoes that normally infest the area at bay.  At the end of the point we met a man with a spotting scope, and he pointed out some of the regal birds that we might not have seen otherwise.  If you’ve got the extra funds and space in your backpack, a spotting scope can be a great addition to your binoculars; after this experience, we may look into one for ourselves!

We immediately began to see bald eagles, both mature, with their snowy white heads and tails, and the brown or mottled brown immatures. Rest assured, one does not have to be a dedicated birder to appreciate these magnificent creatures. Huge and impressive, they are a feast for the eyes! We hoped we’d see something spectacular, like watching them catching large fish and soaring away with them, but no such luck. Still, we got to watch two adult eagles sitting in the tall grass with a couple of immature eagles. The latter, judging by their solid brown color, were evidently fledglings testing their wings. Half-hidden in the tall grass, they would periodically flap their wings, fly up for a short distance, and then land again in the tall grass. Mom and dad eagle didn’t seem to be mightily impressed with the kids’ efforts, but they were fun for us to watch!

As a bonus, we saw quantities of great blue herons, which are almost as impressive as the eagles.   There’s something prehistoric about them…they almost look as if they could be flying dinosaurs with their long beaks and long legs trailing behind them. At one point we saw five of these great birds flying close together overhead like the Blue Angels! We ended up with a total of 12 spotted on this trip.

There were lots of smaller birds, too. We saw ruddy ducks, ringneck ducks, and flocks of red-winged blackbirds. We could also hear a variety of smaller birds in the alders along the trail and in the woods as we walked back out to the car. Unfortunately, our identification of bird calls is somewhat sketchy, and we could never see the birds, so they remained unidentified. Clearly, though, if you want to take the time, there are lots of birds to be seen; you may want to take a folding chair when you go so that you can relax, enjoy, and expand your life list!

Both mature and immature bald eagles. (Ellen Shedd photo)

Following this adventure, we stopped in St. Peters for lunch at Rick’s Fish and Chips. We were treated to a huge and absolutely delectable meal of the famous PEI mussels, raised at a mussel farm just across the highway from Rick’s. We can’t recommend these mussels highly enough; they’re a rare treat. On the other hand, forget the fried clams on PEI. While not the fault of  Rick’s (the batter was outstanding and the clams were perfectly cooked), visitors who spend a great deal of time on PEI confirmed that clams there are flavorless when compared to Maine clams. Stick with the mussels, and when you leave PEI, head south to Maine for  real fried clams!

Finally, it was on to our oceanside rental, happy with our eagle and heron sightings. We arrived in the mood for more adventures, which we knew we could find in abundance on Prince Edward Island. Our next adventure includes a trip to see the dunes in the Greenwich section of the PEI National Park. 

We should also mention the Confederation Trail, which follows an old railroad bed spanning PEI. There are side trail entrances to this trail, with two of them located in Mount Stewart.  The Confederation Trail offers many fine opportunities for both hiking and biking. A good source of information is the Visitor’s Guide, available at www.tourismpei.com or phone toll free at 1-800-463-4PEI.

If you go:
If you travel to PEI and go out to the prime eagle observation area, be sure to take a windbreaker and plenty of insect protection like a Thermacell, InsectShield clothing, or even a full mesh bug suit, as well as a high DEET insect repellent. If the wind is blowing hard, and the weather is cold, you’ll be glad of the windbreaker. If it’s still, or there’s only a light breeze, the bug protection is vital to ward off the hordes of fierce mosquitoes; without protection, the mosquitoes may carry you up and away until you find yourself flying with the eagles – until the skeeters have drained all your blood, that is!  Take some snacks and something to drink; if you find yourself surrounded by eagles, you won’t want to leave because of a growling stomach.

Can you see yourself in this picture? Volunteers building a bridge on a portage trail along the Northern Forest Canoe Trail are clearly proud of an accomplishment they might not do in every day life. (Northern Forest Canoe Trail photo)

If your budget is limited this summer (whose isn’t?) but you still like the idea of getting outdoors, getting some real exercise (for a change), and spending quality time with new friends, consider volunteering for one of the great organizations that helps maintain hiking and biking trails, parks, campsites, canoe launches, and natural areas throughout the northeast. It’s something you can do with your family or friends, and I can guarantee you’ll get more from the experience than you give.

All those wonderful trails we walk and pedal on all summer don’t appear by accident. Beaches, campsites and boat launches aren’t self-cleaning. It takes lots of planning, coordination, and, yes, occasional hard labor to keep them in top shape. Not to put any guilt on you or anything, but, if you’re going to enjoy using them, shouldn’t you help maintain them?

While volunteers for outdoor organizations do a variety of necessary jobs like answering phones and updating websites, the folks who have the real fun are the ones who go out and cut brush, remove deadfall, roll rocks, dig water-diversion cuts, build bridges, maintain shelters, paint blazes, stack rock cairns, pick up trash and do whatever else needs to be done outdoors.

It’s hard to imagine that walking with friends and picking up trash as you go could be deeply soul-satisfying. But it is. Even using a simple pair of loppers to trim back encroaching brush can be immensely gratifying—especially when you look back and see a swath of clear trail behind you.

Moving a big log for a bridge support teaches cooperation for these Northern Forest Canoe Trail crew volunteers. (Northern Forest Canoe Trail photo)

There’s a certain satisfaction to pure, hard, physical labor that leaves you tired and a little sore at the end of the day. Don’t believe me? Volunteer and swing a Pulaski (a combination of an axe head and grub hoe on a long handle) to flatten a trail traversing a steep slope. I guarantee you’ll appreciate every level section of trail more when you next walk or ride them.

Ditto with using shovel, pickaxe and crowbar to move a rock that, when you first looked at it, seemed immovable. This is especially true when you roll that rock into place to make a perfect step that won’t move or erode in a thousand years of weather and hiking boots.

The pleasure of all this is even greater if you weren’t sure you could do it. You can learn a lot about yourself and your hidden abilities working hard to repair a trail or build a riverside campsite.

You can also learn even more about other people and how to work with them. When no one person can move a big rock, it takes real teamwork to get the job done. No corporate or school “team building” exercise ever taught as much about cooperation and goal achievement as simply working together to roll a big rock from Point A to Point B. Too bad more corporations and schools don’t encourage their employees and students to volunteer with outdoor groups.

Volunteering is a terrific way to get yourself out and enjoying something new. After all, you’re suddenly involved in something much larger than your own day-to-day existence, you’re helping yourself and other people get more enjoyment from the world, and you’re getting some fresh air and great exercise while you are doing it. What more could you ask for?

Volunteer Opportunities Abound

These AMC trail crew workers are learning as much about teamwork as they are about themselves. (AMC photo)

Every organization that has anything to do with the outdoors needs volunteer labor. Here are just a few opportunities that I’ve encountered recently; if you don’t find what you are looking for in this list, look around and you’ll find something, or contact me for ideas. If you know of an organization that needs volunteers for outdoor recreation projects, let me know and I’ll add it to the list.

Adirondack Mountain Club uses volunteers to maintain trails and campsites throughout the region.

Appalachian Mountain Club holds many volunteer work days, weekends and weeks over the course of a year in Maine, New Hampshire, Massachusetts and Connecticut. Some are through the head organization, many more are with local chapters. Many of their opportunities, especially the ones for kids and families with kids fill up early (which tells you how much fun they are . . .) , though some still have a wait list and there’s always the possibility of last-minute cancellations.

Appalachian Trail Conference needs volunteers to help monitor, mark, maintain the 2,000+ miles of the AT from Maine to Georgia. This site has links to local chapters with volunteer opportunities.

Connecticut Forest & Park Association uses a network of volunteers to maintain a network of hiking trails and campsites throughout the state.

Eastern Fat Tire Association has a long-standing “Pay Dirt” program where competitive mountain bikers get points for trail work with any of the following organizations. The rest of us, of course, can do it for the fun and exercise.

• International Mountain Bike Association

• New England Mountain Bike Association

• Vermont Mountain Bike Advocates

• Kingdom Trails

• Bicycle Coalition of Maine

Green Mountain Club offers “volunteer vacations” doing trail and shelter maintenance throughout Vermont. These programs last well into September.

Maine Island Trail Association holds island cleanup sessions in September and October—this is a great chance to get out on the water at a beautiful and uncrowded time of year.

NH Rail Trails Coalition is an umbrella organization that can link you to dozens of local projects which all need volunteers.

• Northern Rail Trail in Grafton County takes care of 23 miles of trail.

• Northern Rail Trail in Merrimack County has 23 miles of trail with  a major extension planned in September 2011 with more  for subsequent years.

Northern Forest Canoe Trail maintains portage trails, launch sites, takeouts and campsites along 760 miles of waterways from New York to the northern tip of Maine.

The Trustees Of Reservations protects some of the most beautiful places in Massachusetts and always needs volunteer help for a day or longer.

Upper Valley Trails Alliance maintains trails and other outdoor resources along the Vermont/ New Hampshire border.

White Mountain National Forest and Green Mountain National Forest use volunteers constantly for forest recreation projects.

The Trailwrights

This very special organization runs trail one-day trail maintenance projects throughout the region from mid-April through November. Rather than focusing on trails in one area, they serve as a central repository of knowledge, resources and skills which can be tapped by any organization that needs them. Working with The Trailwrights, volunteers get the skills they need to carry the work ahead on their own. Check their website for a constantly-updated list of volunteer opportunities. Great organization!

At my first lesson I heard that IMCS needed “clients” for a guide recertification program, and we arranged to be the lucky guinea pigs. My first experience rock climbing was so positive and so much fun that I wanted to share it. So I came with five friends from college in tow: Jessie and Breanne, who are my roommates and best friends; Dan and my boyfriend Sam, who love mountain sports as much as I; and Casey, an “artsy” sort of guy who had never rock climbed before but was brave enough to come along anyway. I figured the only thing better than rock climbing with a friend and fantastic instructor would be rock climbing with five friends and more fantastic instructors. I was right!

Dan Kern takes on The Brain, the most challenging pitch of the day. (Breanne Sparta photo)

We caravanned up from Boston on Saturday evening and stayed at the Royalty Inn in Gorham, New Hampshire, a wonderful home base for a bunch of budget-minded college kids (or a family seeking an inexpensive getaway spot). I learned that they do amazing ski and stay packages with Wildcat Mountain in the winter and I can’t wait to go back when there’s snow on the ground. It was clean and comfortable, the staff was friendly, and the lobby even provided coffee for us in the morning,  exactly what we needed before a day in the mountains. Great value!

Since this my second lesson and I knew what to expect, I didn’t have any nervous butterflies in my stomach when I pulled into the International Mountain Equipment (IME) parking lot. My first lesson had put me at ease, and I knew I loved climbing. My friend Casey, who had never climbed before, told me afterwards that he was nervous. But being with a group of friends bolstered his confidence. Here’s a tip: If you are trying a new sport go with friends. It’ll give everyone courage and help you relax and enjoy the new experience.

Upstairs in the IME/IMCS shop, our group became even bigger when we met others who would be joining us  as guinea pigs for the day. We experienced what it would be like to participate in one of IME’s larger group trips with lots of climbers and several guides all working/playing together.

While we were all being fitted in helmets, harnesses, and shoes, I got to know some of the other people including Leif and his wife, Autumn (perfect names for a couple who love the outdoors!). Leif, an experienced climber, offered to help me out with this article. He had this to say about being geared up:

“The IME staff was high class! I appreciated their attention to detail. ‘Do you have pants, a jacket?’ they asked. ‘Are those the shoes you’ll be wearing for the hike in?…Try these on!’ Whatever the clients lacked in gear, IME stepped it up to ensure everyone’s comfort and safety.”

IME offers rentals for any sort of gear you may not have remembered or known to bring. They warned us it would be cold in the mountains and rain threatened despite mild conditions at the shop’s location. They offered us all backpacks and rain jackets (stylish ones at that!). Sam borrowed a pair of pants, and Casey took a sweater. We were all grateful for IME’s extra thought. As Leif said, “It was not exactly the sunny and cloud-free day which had been promised by the Weather Channel. But, then again, we were in the Presidential Range where my guess—or yours—is as good as the weatherman’s. Anyone wearing only shorts definitely paid the climate penalty as we spent all morning and afternoon socked in by fog and body-chilling winds.”

Can you spot me at the top of The Chimney? Although this was the longest pitch, the slight incline on it makes it a good climb for new learners. (Breanne Sparta photo)

Cold it may have been, but with plenty of physical activity to keep us warm, we didn’t have time to get uncomfortable. Some of the guides had gone ahead of our group and set up five pitches along Square Ledge: Standard Route, The Prize, The Chimney, The Brain, and Practice Session. You might be familiar with this location since it is directly across Route 16 from Mount Washington and only a short, easy hike from the AMC Pinkham Notch Visitors Center. Had it been a clearer day, we would have had a terrific view of New Hampshire’s beloved highest mountain from here. I hear the view is definitely worth the short walk.

One way to ensure a great day of climbing is to stay safe, and our guides were serious about protecting our precious bodies in every possible way. Before we were anywhere near the climbing area, the guides stopped and asked us to put on our helmets in case something fell from the cliff above.

Before we started climbing, we were given an obligatory  30-minute basic skills lecture. Sounds awful doesn’t it?  It was actually fun! As Leif describes: “This lecture included not only tips on safety, but ‘knotology,’” climbing and belay techniques, and a few useful pieces of rock jargon. Our guides’ s instructional flare made sure this ‘classroom lecture’ was anything but a bore.”

In fact, we put all these tips into action during the day with the help of one-on-one instruction. I spent the most time with Jed, an instructor who’s probably my grandfather’s age but who seems more like he’s my age. He not only taught me practical things like how to tie a Figure 8 knot; he also showed me that I don’t need anti-aging cream. I just need to keep rocking climbing to stay young forever! Because of Jed, I realized that “Climb on!” is not just standard communication to alert someone that he or she is “on belay,” it is a metaphor for life!

Jed teaches a few of us how to properly put on a harness to ensure our safety. (Caroline McDonald photo)

And “Climb on” we did. The five pitches ranged in difficulty from 5.4 to 5.8 (Yosemite decimal system). “The Brain,” named for its lumpy, brain-like protrusions, stumped all but Jed at first. On the uppermost climb, Practice Session, a few of us were taught how to use a hand wedge in a long, vertical crack. We cheered and coached (and sometimes poked fun at) each other until we’d successfully touched the top anchor on each of the pitches. The “Standard Route” and “The Prize” shared a rock face and made for good competition. Dan and I even raced each other. Do you need to ask who won? (Me, of course!)

Like Dan and me, most of our friends had limited climbing experience. Dan had done some bouldering (practicing technical rock climbing skills close to the ground usually on big, stand-alone rocks), but had never climbed with ropes on a mountain’s rock face. He said that the technical thinking and skills needed to climb boulders prepared him for cliff climbing. He felt more in communion with nature climbing in the mountains than any other time he’s climbed. The beautiful forest around us was enjoyable to climb in, and also a relaxing place to chill out between climbs. While resting and munching on a snack, I had time to watch the others. I paid particular attention to my friend Casey-the-newbie.

It's all about teamwork! Casey climbs Practice Session with the assistance of Dan and Sam belaying. Practice Session is a challenge and a good pitch to learn vertical crack climbing. (Caroline MDonald photo)

Casey defnitely had as much fun on his first climbing experience as I did on mine. Although he loves the outdoors, he’s usually too busy in an art studio or working on a graphic design project to get away to the mountains. It didn’t take much coaxing for him to come with us this time, and I’m thrilled he did. Being able to share my new favorite mountain sport with a friend who also loved it might have been the most rewarding part of my day. I was reminded that being outside isn’t just about the fun I have as much as it is about the fun I share.

Talking with and learning from new friends improved our experience even more. As the most experienced of the “clients”Leif was able to share many stories and tips. He was happily surprised that, “Everyone climbed brilliantly! From the total novice, to the seasoned veteran. Everyone in the group attained great heights; if not literally, then surely by their concentrated effort and ‘go for it spirit.’”

Even more than reaching the top anchor, the “go for it spirit” was what the day was all about. We supported each other, whether it was by belaying or watching from a comfortable nearby rock. Our time at Square Ledge was as much about each other, catching up with old friends or making new ones, as it was about pushing ourselves physically.

The beautiful hike out is one reward of climbing Square Ledge. (Breanne Sparta photo)

After the day was over and we’d returned our gear, Leif summed up the experience: “I have to say that this trip certainly changed my perspective toward IME. Before, it was just that cool store where I would browse before or after a camping trip. But now, I am convinced that it is a place where everyone should hire a guide and quite possibly have a life-altering experience. Being an ‘advanced amateur’ climber who had taken a hiatus from the sport, I was reminded of the joys of getting vertical. I hope that this walk down (or should I say ‘climb up?’) memory lane will get me to pull the dusty gear out of my closet and once again become a weekend crag warrior. Cheers to IME!”

Leif captured my sentiments exactly. I was impressed at the ease with which IME taught climbers of differing experience levels, recertified instructors, and made sure we all had a lot of fun. I’ll remember this day as one of the best I’ve ever spent outside.

When you go

The International Climbing School, which is a part of International Mountain Equipment, offers rock climbing, ice climbing, and mountaineering lessons throughout the Mount Washington Valley.

Seven days a week, their top-notch instructors offer full-day lessons for groups of one or more. Prices start at $95 per person for a larger group and change according to group size. Advanced climbers looking to improve would be smart to sign up for a 2-day private lesson for $500.

If a full day is too much for you and yours, as it might be for newcomers, a half-day lesson is an alternative offering. A half-day lesson was exactly what I needed the first time I climbed. (Prices start at $85 per person.) Click here for a complete pricing list.

For more complete information, check out the IME/IMCS website here or give them a call at (603)-356-7064.

The IME/IMCS shop is located on a main stretch of the White Mountain Highway in North Conway, New Hampshire. The other local shops satisfy the hearts of outdoor enthusiasts and neo-hippies alike, and are definitely worth checking out before or after your climbing excursion. Also be sure to get a caffeine boost just down the road from The Frontside Grind, a coffee shop that roasts their own beans.

Lodging: We stayed at the Royalty Inn in Gorham the night before climbing. The entire group was glad we stayed close to IME’s shop (only a quick, half-hour drive) instead of driving up from Boston early in the morning. Rousing a bunch of college kids (or anyone, for that matter) at 5:00 a.m. on a Sunday is the opposite of fun, and being well rested makes for a better day. Staying at the Royalty Inn or somewhere close the night before is definitely  recommend.

Planning: The Mount Washington Valley Chamber of Commerce provides one-stop shopping for lodging, dining and attractions (yes, there are things to do other than rock climbing in the area!)

You can't always count on hiking trails to be dry . . .(Tim Jones photo). . .

Sometimes it rains a lot in New England, especially in the spring or early summer, but you can get a wet stretch of weather any time from March through December. Basically, you have two choices when it rains long and hard. You can let yourself be kept prisoner, or you can prepare yourself to go out and have fun in it.

There are a few Active Outdoors sports (rock climbing comes to mind) which can’t be done in the rain, but most sports are all still options. Any active water sport like paddling, surfing and windsurfing is pretty much the same in the rain as it is in the sun. Biking in the rain merely requires a good attitude, good rain gear, and some extra caution due to wet roads and reduced visibility.

Hiking and backpacking in wet conditions, however, requires almost a different mind and skill set than hiking and camping in drier conditions. I’ve written about camping in the rain before. It’s fun and an interesting challenge. But what about hiking? You can don your raingear and a pack cover and stay at least mostly dry, but that’s only part of the story.

Wet trails—even if it’s only from a heavy dew—are a vastly different world than dry trails. The biggest difference: wet makes things slippery. It doesn’t take much water on top of rocks, moss, loose forest duff or fallen leaves to make hiking tougher and more hazardous. This is particularly true in the spring when everything is generally wetter, anyway.

This may sound obvious but the first thing a wet trail forces you to do is slow down and pay attention to each step you take. A slip might be funny/embarrassing. Or it might leave you badly injured or even . . . well, it was most likely a slip on a wet rock that sent Christopher Baillie plunging over the Tuckerman Headwall to his death last July . . . You simply have to be more careful hiking when the trail is wet. Trekking poles make a real difference when the trail is wet.

That need for measured caution, in turn, means recalculating how far you can or want to hike in the time you have available. On wet trails, you might only be able to cover three miles in the time it would normally take you to hike five on dry. Though the days are longer now, you still don’t want to get caught on the trail after the sun goes down, even if you have a good light with you in your emergency kit. Take trail conditions into account when you plan your hike.

A few years ago, EasternSlopes.com Publisher David Shedd and I decided to see how far we could hike on the Monadnock-Sunapee Greenway in one day. We were hoping to do at least half of the 50+ miles and  started up Sunapee in the dark. We made good time to the summit, but just before sunrise a very heavy dew settled and made the grass, moss and rocks on top of Sunapee very slick. That forced us to slow to about half our normal pace. Even at the slower pace, watching our footing on every step was both challenging and tiring. The wet conditions were temporary; everything dried out a couple of hours after the sun rose, but we could have hiked more miles more easily had the trail been perfectly dry. But still, we were out hiking and having fun instead of staying home wishing things were different.

Bad Trail Etiquette: By trying to keep their feet dry avoiding a wet spot in the trail, these two hikers are making the trail worse. If you want to hike in wet conditions, be prepared to walk directly in water and mud. (Tim Jones photo)

Treat Trails With Respect

In the spring, when trails are really soggy whether it rains or not, the impact of water on your hiking increases by orders of magnitude. Simply put, you can do real damage to the trails you love to hike if you aren’t careful.

Some trail maintainers, notably the Green Mountain Club which maintains the Long Trail in Vermont, strongly urge hikers to stay off their hiking trails during the mud season of spring. You can’t blame them. Each step on a soggy trail can set the stage for erosion and other trail damage that they have to fix.

On the other hand, it’s possible to hike in the spring mud season without doing much, if any, damage. But you have to be conscientious and willing to stay in the center of the trail, step on rock when you can or directly into water and mud when you can’t. Yes, that often means hiking with wet feet, even if your boots are supposedly waterproof.

Sadly, trying to avoid getting your feet wet by straying off the side of the trail only increases the damage you do with each step. Some popular hiking trails are 20 feet wide in spots. That’s because people have tried to avoid stepping in puddles and mudholes, walk on the sides of the trail preparing the soil there for erosion. The mudhole expands and the trail just gets wider and wider.

How deep?: Here’s a very clear reminder why ankle-high waterproof boots don’t always your feet dry when hiking wet trails . . . (Tim Jones photo)

It’s up to each of us to minimize our impact every time we hike. In other words, if you are going to go out hiking in the spring, especially in the rain, be prepared, at least, to get your feet wet. Wet boots may not be fun, but hiking with wet feet is definitely better than staying home!

Wet Feet Or Not?

Choosing footgear is the real conundrum when hiking wet trails. Most people think they need waterproof boots. Some hikers just figure their feet are going to get wet anyway and choose breathable, non-waterproof boots that dry quickly. Personally, I don’t think the choice of waterproof or not is nearly as important as having a bootsole with lots of traction. I’d rather have wet feet than slip with every step.

If it’s cold, I’ll try to keep my feet dry, often using waterproof/breathable socks over my cushioning hiking socks inside my boots. My favorites are Canadian Army issue, but I’m testing some newer ones from Rocky Boots . They weigh nothing, help keep your feet dry whether your boors are waterproof or not, give you the ability to walk through shallow puddles and small streams with dry feet when necessary. Stay tuned for a full evaluation when I’ve had time to really test them . . .

I tried rock climbing for the first time and found muscles I didn't even know I had. It was one of the most fun challenges I've ever done outdoors. (Sam Kontny photo)

Before I gave it a fair shot, I didn’t think I was cut out to be a rock climber. My arms  have been compared to hotdogs and I had a fear of heights that had remained untested on purpose. And after one childhood experience with the Girl Scouts that combined an indoor climbing gym with an overzealous scout mother, I swore off rock climbing, I thought, forever.

Based on that early fiasco, I would have stuck out my chin and told you that I didn’t like rock climbing, I wasn’t good at it, and I wasn’t going to do it. But a few friends pushed me to try it again during a sunny weekend in northern New Hampshire. So I gave rock climbing another chance, and found out that it’s about more than getting up a rock. It requires team support, mental effort, and courage.

My complete change of heart occurred in the middle of a lesson with the International Mountain Climbing School (IMCS) based in North Conway. As I “hung out” on my safety rope, 40 feet above the ground about halfway up the route called “Cakewalk “on Humphrey’s  Ledge in North Conway, looking over what seemed like most of New Hampshire, I was having fun, and darn proud of myself for getting up there!

A professional lesson was the only way I was going to give a sport like rock climbing, which is outside of my normal activity range, any possibility of a chance. If you’ve ever been accused of having “hotdog arms” and just don’t know where to get started, a lesson is probably what you’re looking for!

My boyfriend Sam and I showed up for our lesson on a sunny Saturday morning at the world headquarters of IMCS. The school is less intimidating than the name implies, though the gear they sell in the downstairs shop, International Climbing Gear, might just have you thinking about taking on Mount Everest (as one of the school’s current owners, Rick Wilcox, did in 1994).

The school has been teaching the trade of scaling rock and ice in the White Mountains for more than 30 years. Their American Mountain Guides Association-certified instructors take students up popular climbing locations like Cathedral and Whitehorse Ledge, the Frankenstein Cliffs(nothing scary about THAT name!), and Cannon Cliff. Time your lesson right, and they’ll even instruct you in how to scale ice flows!

The prospect of an adventure like that had me daydreaming, but Sam brought me back to earth and reminded me that learning to climb is all about baby steps. First, I needed to learn how to put on a harness.

I think I can see my parent's house in Tennesee from up here! Rock climbing in the White Mountains will give you a whole new perspective (literally) on New Hampshire's natural beauty. (Caroline McDonald photo)

We met our instructor, Zeb Jakub, who taught us this first, all-important step. He also got us ready to go with helmets and shoes that looked a little and felt a lot like ballerina slippers. (But don’t worry, boys, they’re black and don’t have any ribbons.) The soles of the shoes, Zeb told us, are made of some of the softest and stickiest rubber that can possibly be put on a shoe. They are designed to create friction and grip rock.

As it turned out, much of rock climbing is about “design” and brainpower. I’m pretty sure the first rock climbers must have been physics geeks who became athletes, or maybe it was the other way around. The engineering that’s gone into the climbing equipment and techniques (knots, harnesses, ropes, etc.) was beyond me.

Fortunately, Zeb understood perfectly well how it all worked. He talked us through everything, including why a quarter-inch shoestring-looking thing (Zeb called it by it’s technical name, a “rope”) would hold all of your body weight when it came time to dangle high in the air off a BIG rock.

Not being much for physics, I stared blankly as Zeb explained why the gear worked. Even though I didn’t completely get it, I felt confident knowing that he understood it. No amount of physics knowledge can beat experience, though, and Zeb had plenty of that. He began climbing as a little kid and started working with IMCS in 2000. I had complete confidence in Zeb’s background and knowledge of this sport he obviously loved so much.

Meet Zeb: Our top-notch instructor who started climbing before he hit double digits. I attribute our wonderful experience mostly to him.

Trust in your instructor, the person who will keep you safe, is important. If it’s your first time and you’re feeling nervous, ask your instructor questions and get to know him or her. Listening to Zeb made me feel better about the challenges to come and made me a more confident climber right away. The entire experience is simpler, a lot more fun, and much safer when learning with a professional instructor.

Because I had confidence in Zeb, I had confidence in myself. Harnessed in and “on belay,” you have to believe that your body can push and pull you up to that ledge that seems so impossibly steep. You can make that reach without any legitimate fear when you know a great team has got your back. The adrenaline rush is unbeatable, and you find out that you’re stronger than you thought you were.

As it turns out, my so-called “hotdog arms” can do more than any hotdog I’ve ever encountered. I’ll bet you’re stronger than you realize too, but you’ll never know if you don’t try!

Rock climbing isn’t all about brawn though. It also requires some noodle work. Before Sam and I began our first climb up a stretch called Cakewalk, Zeb warned us that it’s easy to see just one way up, explaining that route might not be the best when you’re tired or panicked. You must consider all of the options and focus on remaining calm despite any fear of falling (which, thanks to the safety rope, isn’t even really falling). Figuring out the optimal route up is a bit like putting together a puzzle.

But unlike a puzzle, there’s no “right answer.” Because every climber’s strengths are different, there are often as many routes as there are climbers. Sam, who’s taller and stronger than I am, took a route suited to his strengths. I’m smaller and more flexible, and successfully negotiated a different route to the same goal.

Once you begin climbing, you’re on your own. But Zeb will explain a helpful technique if someone becomes stuck. For example, he taught me that it’s often useful to wedge your feet between two vertical protrusions and climb up as you would between two narrow walls.

Feeling like Catwoman as I attempted these maneuvers, I finally made it to the top of Cakewalk. If the climbing itself was fun, reaching the top and looking out over the White Mountains was the icing on the Cakewalk (with real flowers instead of the kind made of frosting).

Unbeatable views are just one perk to rock climbing. I wish this picture did it justice! (Caroline McDonald photo)

The spring was taking over after the long winter, and I put my camera in peril trying to take a shot that would capture the mountains’ beauty. Although the pictures from up top were lovely, they don’t quite capture the actual scene that lay below us. Guess you’ll have to climb up to see it for yourself!

I could have hung off of the anchor at the top of Cakewalk for hours, but that wasn’t exactly practical, so down we went. Zeb taught us how to rappel back to the ground, and I hummed The Who’s “I Can See For Miles” as I skipped down the rock.

The rappelling was scary at first because you don’t have an instructor at the bottom to release rope for you. You control the speed at which you descend all by yourself. However,once we got the hang of it, Sam and I both decided that it was an easy process, and we liked the freedom. Zeb said most people feel the same way. Being in control and doing it yourself is thrilling.

“Doing it yourself” is what rock climbing is all about and what makes it so fun. You figure out your route, you push and pull yourself to the top, and you feel the accomplishment of your climb. But, it’s still a shared victory with the rest of the team.

Sam was the guinea pig who learned to rappel first. We both liked the control of doing it ourselves. (Caroline McDonald photo)

Back on the ground, I felt a little wobbly and unsafe as I took off my safety harness. As a generally clumsy person prone to tripping over sidewalk cracks, I’m thinking I should wear a safety harness and helmet permanently. Especially since I’ll be climbing more now that I’ve gotten a taste for this fun sport.

I’ve even convinced a friend who’s never climbed to come learn with me. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it, and so would you. So meet up with a climbing instructor, tie into a harness, and get hooked on rock climbing!

There are many different types of compasses; all can point you in the right direction IF used correctly! (David Shedd photo)

Last summer I went on my first solo hiking trip, and spent two nights in the back country of Bretton Woods, NH. Looking back, it is clear I lacked some skills which would have made the whole experience less challenging and more pleasurable.

One area that needed work was navigation skills. At one point in my solo adventure, several hours of working against uneven, steep terrain where visibility was limited made me fatigued and disoriented (a recipe for potential disaster). Don’t want that to happen again! In fact, I want to get so good at wilderness  navigation that it becomes second nature, even if I get tired, hungry or scared. Just like setting up a tent, the more practice you have at using map and compass, the easier it is to do it correctly under stress. In fact, familiarity reduces stress.

Understanding how to use a map and compass can keep you away from places like the face of Webster Slide Mountain! A map & compass course is the best way to learn. (David Shedd photo)

For those of you who (like me) do not regularly go out in the woods and plot courses in unfamiliar terrain, I have a simple suggestion: take a map and compass lesson before you head into the woods.

Like many women (Editor’s note:  and many men, as well!), I have become accustomed to relying too heavily upon someone else who knows what he is doing. I also assumed I could trust electronic devices. I made the mistake of assuming that, since I was comfortable navigating with a GPS and a road map, and have years of experience charting marine courses, that I would not have a difficult time adjusting to using a map and compass in the woods. Although similar, they are not the same (my bad)! In particular, visibility is limited in the woods, so being able to follow a compass line rather than relying on heading for an object in the distance is extremely important.

I should have taken more time learning how to navigate with a topographical map and compass on my own.  If I had studied my map more closely and really understood it, my solo trek could have been a whole lot more fun.

Not liking to repeat mistakes, I went seeking a (you guessed it), map and compass course! The Appalachian Mountain Club (AMC) has regular map and compass classes  at the beautiful Highland Center in Crawford Notch, NH, not far from where I found troubles on my solo trek. Since my son Daniel is enjoying the woods as well, we thought this would be a great experience for both of us. Plus, if something were to happen to me during a hike, he would be armed with the skills to navigate to safety and get help.So, we signed up, and headed up for the class.

Arriving at Highland Lodge, we were immediately greeted by Tim Innes, AMC’s senior guide, and his assistant Becca, a Seasonal Adventure Guide. The other students were a mother and her two children, a father and two sons. We were all eager to learn!

We had arrived prepared with a compass, a ruler, and pencil (although they had a supply readily available for those who did not).  In the “classroom” segment of the 1.5-hour course we would learn 1) what the legend/key on a map is and how to use it, 2) how to determine true north, 3) how to use a map and compass together, and 4) how to plot a course to a destination lacking a trail (perfect for my adventures!). Then, we would head outside to apply what we had learned.

The “classroom” turned out to be a comfortable lounge area with large windows and cozy leather chairs, which immediately put Daniel at ease — on summer vacation, he wouldn’t have appreciated a typical classroom.

Here’s what we learned:

Reading a topographical map (TM)

Studying the map is essential to planning and remaining on the right path! When you plan a hike, your TM can alert you to many important terrain features: mountains, valleys, trails, waterways, railways, AMC huts, woodland, sand, mud or rock, wetlands, etc..  When you look at a TM you’ll notice lines which represent altitude variations. Tightly gathered lines denote steeps or cliffs, small circles represent summits, and broad areas with few lines indicate relatively level areas.

During my solo trip, I spent more time with the GPS and compass than with the map; if I’d fully understood the map and what the lines meant, I’d have avoided some of the misery I encountered. For the record, using the map and compass together is a lot more fun!

Tim Innes (center) is providing instruction for our first challenge! (Susan Marean photo)

The map we were looking at had contour intervals of 100 feet (meaning the change in elevation from line to line is 100 feet; this varies from map to map, so always check the key/legend!); this information allowed us to determine where the peaks and valleys were.  The key/legend told us that trails were red dashes, contour lines were gray, rivers and water were blue, etc. (this information is helpful in plotting your course for a hike).  It was easy to see that the trails tend to move through areas that aren’t particularly steep…smart!

It was surprisingly easy to read the map once we understood how the contour lines worked.  Feeling more confident in our map-reading skills, we moved on to learning how to use the compass effectively.

Understanding and Using a Compass

With "Fred in his red shed" and the compass base aligned with magnetic north, this map has been correctly aligned to true north. (David Shedd photo)

NOTE:  there are many different styles and types of compasses, but a very basic one will help you find your way.  There are different things on a compass that you need to know: 1) there is a dial on the outer section of most compasses that spins 360°; 2) the compass is numbered clockwise with north as 0°, east 90°, south 180°, and west 270°;  3) in the center of the compass is a double-ended needle, with the RED end always indicating north;  4) on the dial that spins (called the “bezel”), there is another red arrow-shaped marking, wider than the needle; this is used for lining up the north end of the arrow inside the other  (Becca made this easy to remember– “put Fred in his red shed”), which helps you to follow the bearing you set with the bezel; and 5) on the outer edge of a map-reading compass there are measurements: half inch, quarter inch, one inch, and centimeter – these are there to use when you mark your distances from your map. For example, if your legend on your map says that one inch equals one mile, you can use your compass to measure your mileage to aid in determining how far you’d like/expect/need to hike.

The line with the star points to true north, but the line to the left shows where your compass thinks north is (David Shedd photo)

Using the compass with the map turned out to be easy once you orient your map to “true north”. Compasses find magnetic north…in this part of the country, that means that the north arrow points about 15 degrees west of true north (if you hear “15 degrees west declination”, that’s what they’re talking about; it’s almost like the compass needle falls off or “declines” to the west!). Luckily, down by the legend on the map, it shows true north, and also the magnetic declination. To align the map to true north, you put it down, put one side of the compass along the magnetic north line, and turn the map and compass together until the magnetic north line on the map and the north needle on the compass line up. Now, your map is aligned exactly with what you see…you can figure out which mountain is which, how far away they are, all sorts of things like that! Want to figure out what direction you have to go in order to get to that mountaintop you want to visit? You achieve this by orienting your map to north; then, decide where you want to start from and go to, lay your compass back down on the map so that the side of the compass touches both spots. Spin the dial to where both red arrows line up (put Fred in his red shed), now, your compass will aim you directly to your target. Hold it out so Fred’s in his shed again,  turn your body to face the way your compass is pointing, and you’ll be aimed exactly where you want to go. Sounds pretty easy, and it is…just takes practice (which is what we did – and everyone had fun!). If you look ahead and find something directly on the line ahead of you, walk to that, then pick another point on the same line, do it again, and keep doing it, you’ll get to exactly where you wanted to go. You can practice this in your backyard, or on local trails and woods; you may learn a surprising amount about the area you live in if you get off the standard trails.

Daniel is getting individualized assistance from Becca (Susan Marean photo)

Tim and Becca were fabulous to work with. They were detailed in their presentation, encouraged questions, and gave each of us the opportunity to study the map and compass before bringing us outside to test our knowledge; that way, we focused on HOW to use them, not WHAT they were aimed at. Their approach was easy to understand for all age groups; they were organized and  in sync with each other. Outside they had us play a game in which we had to figure out what the “design” was— a rectangle, a triangle, etc). They provided the coordinates, and we used our newfound knowledge to determine the answers. Like us, the other parents and children enjoyed the lesson– everyone felt successful and ready to venture into the woods. As we departed, Daniel wanted to test his skills out further (he had a blast), so he plotted the way back to the car with a direct route – a job very well done (we didn’t get lost – looks like we’ll take him out more often!).

One really important hint, though; watch out for your watches and jewelry!  If you’ve got steel in your watch, it can throw your compass off (steel’s magnetic, remember?).  If you want to get an idea of how badly steel can mess up your compass needle, stand about 10 feet away from your car and look where the compass says north is.  Now, walk toward your car, and watch what happens to the needle!  Almost everyone who has used map and compass a lot has gotten fooled once by being too close to steel, but now you know to avoid the problem.

Hiking and backpacking are even better when you’re equipped with the knowledge you need, not just the gear. Although I prefer to backpack with my loved ones and close friends, another solo trek is not out of the question;  the next time I head out alone, it’ll be “nice” to have my  a cell phone and GPS accessible, but not “necessary” for survival.  And, when I’m out with other people, I’ll now know what they’re talking about when they’re discussing where we might be going, and how to get out or help them if there’s an emergency!  If you haven’t been using a map and compass all your life, find a course like this; it’ll change your confidence level, and you’ll enjoy your time in the woods much more.