Dan gains momentum on skate skis as he and Sam head down one of the bigger hills. Don't be afraid to get some speed, bend your knees, and enjoy the ride! (Caroline McDonald photo.)

Sometimes, you have to move beyond your comfort zone to find outdoor adventure. In this case, my comfort zone was my own bed . . . . 8 o’clock on a Sunday morning rolls around early for everyone, but particularly for college students like me. However, the prospect of snapping into cross-country skis for the first time was more than enough to get me out of bed and moving. Who isn’t excited by the idea of trying out a new sport? Especially when the weather is promising, and two of your best friends are joining you. I roused those friends, Dan and Sam, and we were off to Weston Ski Track, a municipal golf course converted into a winter sports playground conveniently located just outside of Boston. From where I live in Boston’s South End, it’s a quick, 20-minute drive, but is also accessible via the T’s Green Line, D train.

I arrived having no idea what to expect from cross-country skiing and desperately hoping it wasn’t too different from the Alpine skiing I grew up with. One glaring difference became immediately apparent: the price. While a day of downhill skiing with rentals will typically cost you upwards of seventy-five dollars, a whole day of cross-country skiing at Weston requires only a $15 trail pass and another $15 for rentals, including boots, skis or snowshoes, and poles. That’s affordable for almost anyone, even impoverished college kids.

The friendly staff at the rental desk quickly helped us gear up. I was shocked by how thin and lightweight cross-country skis are compared to the downhill skis I’m accustomed to. The boots are also infinitely more comfortable than Alpine ski boots. Cross-country ski boots look and feel like a stiffer version of Air Jordans which were popular in the 80s and are making a comeback now.

Cross country skis are affordable to rent at Weston. They are lightweight and much less intimidating than downhill skis. (Caroline McDonald photo)

My fear of being the obvious amateur was unfounded. Snow enthusiasts of all skill levels visit Weston. While seasoned triathletes were just finishing the last stretch of a race, my friends and I were lacing up our rental boots next to a toddler in a one-piece, yellow snow outfit. I figured if he was out there, anyone could be.

Armed with skis, boots, and height-appropriate poles, plus a trail map, Dan, Sam and I hit the snow. Weston has a flat beginner area ( the cross-country equivalent of a bunny slope)  right outside the door for anyone who wants to ease into the day. I wanted to take one of the beginner lessons Weston  offered, but my friends, who had cross-country skied before, insisted I didn’t need one. They were right! I’ll take a lesson next time to improve my form and efficiency now that I know how much fun it is.

Falling down doesn't hurt. It just makes for funny photos! (Caroline McDonald photo)

Cross-country turned out to be nothing like Alpine skiing. Basic or “classic” cross-country skiing is incredibly simple and easy to learn. I’m sure the lessons are beneficial, especially if you are nervous about trying new things, but I had fun figuring it out myself on my first day. I followed the best and most basic athletic advice my dad ever gave me: “bend your knees!” It served me well that day, and now I pass it on to you for your first cross-country ski experience. Thanks, Dad!.

The lightweight cross-country skis and boots allow you to walk  in them right away. Our skis had scales on the bottom which let us walk right up the gentle hills. What a triumphant feeling when you reach the top, take a look around at the snowy hills, and then gleefully slide down! Even though this was my first experience, I was able to keep up with Dan and Sam.

After exploring the track closest to the lodge for a warmup, we ventured across a rustic wooden bridge over the frozen Charles River and skied on the more remote Goat and Fox Tracks. A few houses are visible through the trees here, but otherwise I could hardly believe we were only 20 minutes from the bustling South End.

One of the great things about Weston is that the low-cost rental fee allows you to try any of the sports offered. After about an hour and a half, Dan traded in his “classic” cross-country skis for skate skis. I’d never seen or even heard of skate skis before visiting Weston! Their name is self-explanatory; wearing them, you skate with the same diagonal stride as ice skating. They are speedier than cross-country skis, and can provide more of a cardiovascular workout if you so desire. Trying them out myself looks like a good excuse to go back.

After Dan’s adventure on skate skis, we couldn’t resist trying snowshoeing, too. But first we stopped to nosh on the delicious, cheap food offered by a little tiki hut outside of the lodge. Yes, you read correctly: delicious and cheap food at a ski lodge! I didn’t know such a thing existed! Weston offers a serious change-up from typical ski-lodge food: everything from Kosher hot dogs to homemade coleslaw. I bought a fresh, Mediterranean salad, and Dan indulged in a skewer of grilled lamb ($7.50!). Properly nourished, we geared up for snowshoeing.

The snowshoes let us take on the tallest, iciest hill we could find. (Caroline McDonald photo)

As a new adventurer, I was delighted to discover that if you can walk, you can snowshoe. Except for digging your spikes into the sides of hills, there isn’t much to it. The fun of clunking around in our new footwear, scaling icy hills, and, in my case, slipping down them on my rear, masked our exhaustion for a while, but eventually we realized it was time to head home.

Weston is an energetic, and friendly ski area, a real urban oasis. Renting your gear  is easy, the people are nice. A friendly staff member even offered us advice for an upcoming camping trip we are all planning.

I ended my day feeling invigorated by my wind-burnt cheeks and sore muscles. I couldn’t wait to share my experience with anyone who’d listen. Imagine, a cheap day of fun outdoor exercise readily available just outside of Boston! I can’t wait for my next trip back to try out skate skis! I’m going to drag some more of my friends out of their comfort zone and get them to try it, too. Want to join us?

Intrigued by the list of outdoor activities, as well as the opportunity to watch Tim and David in action, we set out on a dreary morning with very light snow falling and enough snow on the roads to make them slushy and treacherous. Although we managed  the trip without mishap, the road conditions stretched what is normally a little over an hour of travel time to a full hour and a half.

After arriving in one piece, we met the rest of the Eastern Slopes crew: Tim and his wife, Marilyn; David and his fiancee Susan; and fellow Eastern Slopes adventurers Barbara Tomke and Patricia Lyon-Surrey. There were a number of events to choose from, such as Nordic skating; dogsled rides; a Winter Emergency Skills workshop that our Eastern Slopes’ female contingent – Marilyn, Susan, Barbara, and Pat – selected; and the one that we chose – Family Outdoor Skills. This was billed as a snowshoe hike with instructions in various outdoor skills, such as building a fire in wintertime.

This event was led by Brendan Madden, the Director of the Hulbert Outdoor Center, an outdoorsman of wide experience. But, as Robert Burns so aptly put it, “The best laid plans of mice and men…”  Actually, there were two problems. First, the roughly six inches of snow on the ground (inordinately little for Vermont in January!) wasn’t enough for comfortable snowshoeing. Second the treacherous driving conditions had evidently cut attendance, and we were the only people brave (or foolish) enough to show up for Brendan’s presentation.

Warner and Brendan confer on the trail (Edie Shedd photo)

However, Brendan was  willing to do the hike with just us, and we set forth on “The Snowshoe Hike That Wasn’t!”

We decided to hike on the same trail originally planned, sans snowshoes, though we wisely armed ourselves with our trusty Leki trekking poles. And so we set out at roughly a right angle to Lake Morey on a wide trail that led steadily uphill, on gentle to occasionally moderate slopes. We spent some time getting acquainted with Brendan, and vice versa. We learned, for example, that he had come to this country from Ireland when he was 12 years old, although his speech shows not a trace of the Auld Sod.

After learning that Warner was also an experienced outdoorsman who had spent a number of years doing winter forestry work on snowshoes, Brendan decided that we didn’t need lessons in such basic skills as fire building. Instead, we discussed outdoor education, and various ways of interesting youngsters in outdoor activities.

Brendan at the scenic overlook. (Edie Shedd photo)

We set a very leisurely pace, pausing often to talk, examine animal tracks, or discussing the forest that the trail passed through. For quite a distance, the woods were fairly open hardwoods that, because of the relatively poor quality of the timber, gave evidence of having been “high-graded” a good many years ago. In forestry language, high-grading means cutting the best timber trees and leaving the inferior ones: it’s roughly the equivalent of pulling young vegetables from a garden and leaving the weeds.

As we continued upward, we saw more and more white pines, some quite large,  interspersed with the hardwoods. Here and there were small patches that were mostly pine. These patches had probably sprung up in forest clearings, or perhaps in the remnants of old pasture that were still open at that time. The tracks of gray squirrels, cottontail rabbits, and coyotes that we occasionally crossed lent added interest to our trek, and we discussed the habits of various wildlife species with Brendan.

At one point we found a lone red pine – a splendid specimen, very tall and straight as an arrow – right beside the trail, its reddish bark in stark contrast to the nearly black bark of the neighboring white pines. This species of pine is also called Norway pine, a name that leads many people to believe it was imported from Scandinavia. Actually, it was given that name for Norway, Maine, where it was found in abundance, and it is definitely a native species. We speculated on how that one lone red pine came to grow there when we hadn’t seen  another one anywhere on our hike. Could a passing bird have dropped a seed there? We had no way of knowing, although that seemed a reasonable explanation.

Although the snow depth made walking relatively easy, the snow had hardened in and around the sometimes-numerous human footprints. These frozen footprints could easily throw one off balance, so we especially appreciated our  trekking poles for the added stability they provided.

After hiking a considerable distance, Brendan offered us a choice. We were at about the halfway point, he said, so we could either turn around and go back the way we had come or proceed onward to complete the loop. If we chose the latter, there was a nice scenic lookout over Lake Morey just a short distance off the trail. We promptly decided that we’d rather go forward to see some new country and the view from the scenic overlook.

The overlook proved to be well worth the short hike off the trail. Although a very light snow was falling, obscuring more distant scenes, we had a lovely view of much of Lake Morey, with skiers, skaters, and fishermen sprinkled across the ice. We lingered there for a few minutes, enjoying the scenery, and then headed back to the main trail.

Very soon the trail began to grow narrower and steeper as it descended toward the lake. As the steepness and narrowness continued to increase, we found our trekking poles a huge help in keeping us from slipping and sliding in many precarious spots. We also found ourselves passing through some very different forest types – a dark grove of large hemlocks, sometimes mixed with mature red maples. We also spied  wooden structures that clearly housed springs coming out of the steep hillside; these springs undoubtedly supplied water to one or more of the summer cottages lining the lake shore.

The Eastern Slopes crew devouring a hearty lunch (Warner Shedd photo)

Soon we emerged into a large field, with a view of (of all things!) a charming miniature medieval castle.  Brendan told us this had originally been erected for a theatrical event and was left for the amusement of the summer campers, who could climb around in it to their hearts’ content. We, on the other hand, turned sharply right and descended to the road and back to the Hulbert Center where a hearty and welcome lunch  awaited us.

The Snowshoe Hike That Wasn’t had been a really fun adventure. We enjoyed seeing new country in Brendan’s knowledgeable and genial company, and getting a fair dose of exercise to boot. The Hulbert Winter Skills Day and WinterFest are annual events. Make plans to be there next year. Maybe there will be enough snow for the sequel: “The Snowshoe Hike That Was.” Hope we see you there.

"The Babushka Girls" at the start of the 2011 Tubbs Romp To Stomp Out Breast Cancer. (Courtesy photo)

Our day started very early—up by 4am and on the road by 5  to make the 3-hour drive to the Vermont 2011 Tubb’s Romp to Stomp snowshoe series that benefits the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure. This year’s romp took place at the Stratton Mountain Ski Resort in southern Vermont and included a “Lil Romp,” a 3k snowshoe race, and two tours of 3k and 5k.

True outdoor enthusiasts who love to do anything in the snow, Roger and I were not fazed by the long drive, even with snow on the roads. Besides, our team, “The Babushka Sisters” would be counting on us to show up. Three members of the team are Slovak (Pat, Karen and Patty), thus the name. The other 2 (Paul and Roger) aren’t Slovak ( or girls) but, in the name of a good cause, we let them be honorary Babushkas for the day.

A member of the Pink Flamingo Team displays her finery. (Patricia Lyon-Surrey photo)

The car thermometer said 19 degrees when we arrived at the Sun Bowl base lodge at Stratton Mountain. Despite the name, the sun wasn’t shining. However, compared to the below-zero temps and high winds of last year’s event, it felt practically balmy. We had come prepared for any weather: wicking base layers; hats, gloves, and neck warmers; insulation layers and windproof outer shells and of course, our babushkas.

The place was hopping and the color pink was in full display. Dressing up or wearing pink are not requirements but let me tell you there was ample silliness on display in both color and costumes. We checked in, got our numbers in no time thanks to the organization of the Tubb’s Staff and the many cheerful volunteers.

Silliness for a serious cause! This team should have taken home a prize for the "raciest" costume!

The seriousness of the cause was also evident in the many breast cancer survivors who were romping today, and by the myriad of participants who were doing the event in memory of someone who had not survived this horrible disease. Our group alone wore 6 names in honor of women we knew.

With 879 of us at the start line (a 2% increase in participants over the 2010 event) the energy was palpable!

The 5k trail was along one of the more moderate ski trails. It had just enough hills to make a few people step to the side of the group to catch their breath.  Cheers, laughter, horn blowing and the stomp of 879 snowshoes meant this wasn’t a quiet walk in the woods.  Mothers carried children when they grew tired, people exchanged picture taking, and dogs on leashes behaved.

Most of the costumes stayed intact except for some pink “hair” that got caught in a tree branch and one pink bra that came undone along the way!  The group moved along as one, slow and steady—this was not a race.  Everyone finished in good time and good humor.

Her mother is getting the workout as the "lil romper" tires. (Karen Chickering photo)

Now the awards would begin and there were many: awards for participating, awards for racing, awards for fundraising….and the real award of having done something meaningful over a disease you can’t control.

If you want to contribute to the fight against breast cancer we’d be happy to see you in 2012 at the next Romp. If you can walk, you can do it!  And if you don’t have snowshoes no problem. Tubbs will be there lending out their latest models free of charge for the event.

If you choose not to actively participate, please donate to a friend who is Romping.

879 participants and counting. (Roger Lyon-Surrey photo)

Hooray to all of this year’s participants!:

The amount of money raised to date at this one event: $80,473.32 Final figures won’t be in until March.
The largest amount raised by an individual: $5930.
The largest amount raised by a team: $12,267.87.

Now The Relaxing . . .

The Babushka team broke up after the awards ceremony with Karen promising that she would sew five bright pink babushkas and matching pink aprons lined with lace for next year’s event. Patty, Paul and Karen headed to nearby Manchester, Vermont to have lunch and check out the upscale outlet Stores before heading home. There is a lot to do in this area besides Romp.  Manchester is known for its designer outlet stores, an unusual commodity in Vermont.  There are 4 downhill ski areas, a number of Nordic ski centers, galleries, great restaurants and the largest independent book store in Vermont—Northshire Bookstore all within a  30 minute drive.

Roger and I were staying at the Landgrove Inn for the night and decided to make a stop at the Southern Vermont Arts Center in Manchester to see their annual Winter Member’s Exhibition before checking in at the Inn. The long driveway to the Southern Vermont Art Center was an art exhibit of its own; the natural beauty of the birch trees lining the road and the various sculptures placed in the meadows of this former estate all caught my attention on either side.

The juried member’s exhibit turned out to be much larger than we expected filling ten galleries with paintings, photographs, sculpture and mixed media pieces.  We took our time looking through all the galleries and seeing if we were in agreement on our top 3 entries.

Twenty minutes after leaving the Art Center we arrived at the Landgrove Inn at and met co-owner Maureen Checchia. Landgrove Inn is an authentic 1810 farmhouse set in an unspoiled mountain valley outside a tiny Vermont village. I couldn’t help but contrast it with the busy-ness of Stratton Mountain Resort and the Manchester area. What a welcome change! There were no malls, no condos, just thirty-five acres of quiet to explore.

The Landgrove Inn. (Patricia Lyon-Surrey photo)

Maureen showed us around, told us some of the history of the inn and encouraged us to relax, eat from the pot of chili that was on in the den for guests or indulge ourselves with the chocolate chip cookies and tea that are always available.  Having been up before dawn, I was ready for a shower and a nap before dinner—of course, Rip Van Winkle Roger agreed.

At 5:00 we wandered back to the rustic bar and lounge area of the Inn where a buffet of wine and hors d’oeuvres were being set up for an après ski group.  Before I could even order a glass of wine at the bar one of the members of the group invited us to join them at the buffet. Sue, a long time member, was setting out 5 Italian cheeses for sampling that she promised I would enjoy. She told me that their group, the Valley Ski Club of Connecticut, had been coming to the inn each January for over 35 years. When they had first started coming here, the inn was only an après ski place where separate dorm rooms for “girls” and “boys” housed the group. In fact, at that time, they didn’t have to drive—there was a ski train that took them into Manchester from which they would be bussed up to the inn in two busses—one for them and one for their equipment.

Buffet set-up in the bar/lounge section of the Inn. (Patricia Lyon-Surrey photo)

Maureen had told me that 80% of their business was returning guests and this certainly fit for the club. They had reserved 13 of the 18 rooms at the inn for this week-end. Tom, the other half of the Landgrove Inn owner duo, was concerned we would find the presence of so many skiers in one place disquieting. I only found it fascinating. Many of these people had been skiing together for the life of the group. Ruth, an original member of the club, told me that some of the members no longer skied because of age or physical ability but had switched to hiking or snowshoeing as their bodies had changed. Talk about active seniors!

Toasting their long, active friendship. (Patricia Lyon-Surrey photo)

I continued to ask questions of the group while Roger simply sat in a rocking chair before the fire with a beer in hand. When I joined him I noticed that the wood ceiling above was carved with names and dates. Tom told me that in the days before Maureen and his time at the inn the ski guests took to carving their names in the wooden ceiling with a hot poker from the wood stove. He would like to insulate the ceiling and cover up the “graffiti” but most of his guests think it would take away from the charm of the room.

There was an intergenerational foosball game going on among the guests, a number of whom had just recently met. Truly this room offered a convivial and friendly atmosphere that encouraged mingling yet offered enough space to be on your own if desired. I had a hard time removing myself from the glow of the wood stove and the warmth of the company but our dinner reservation beckoned.

This Foosball game was a challenge of the ages. (Patricia Lyon-Surrey photo)

The dining room has cozy tables for two or four, and expandable seating for large parties. Their menu offers a variety of appetizers and entrees as well as homemade soups and daily specials. Roger and I both had salads with house dressings–his a balsamic vinegar, mine a garlic based dressing.  I chose the crispy duck in cherry sauce with sides of rice pilaf and fresh green beans done al dente for my entrée. Roger ordered one of the evening’s specials: Pork Mediterranean– medallions of pork in a tomato, capers, olive and artichoke mix. Unfortunately we didn’t have room for dessert although I would have loved to sample the apple crisp, the cranberry cheese tart AND the brownie sundae! We went to bed early with a vision of tomorrow’s ski on the Inn’s 10 k of trails beckoning.

After a full breakfast of French toast, poached eggs and sausage we changed into ski clothes and met Carl Eric–as he likes to be called–at the ski center which is attached to the inn. Carl Eric, 69, has been running his satellite ski business, housed at the inn, for 15 years. He rents skis and snowshoes if you don’t have your own, and grooms and tracks the inn’s 10k of trails. Skiing is by donation. He is also a registered ski instructor if you need a lesson. Curt lived in Sweden until age 7 when he and his family moved to the states. I think he must be responsible for the recipe for the “glog” that is available at the inn to warm you after a ski!

The trails are tracked for classic skiing and there are plenty of choices for the beginner to the advanced skier. The inn’s 10k of trails connect to the National Forest trails which are maintained by a local ski club. The Catamount Trail (a 300 mile backcountry trail that runs the length of Vermont) shares a part of these 10k, too. Since we had our 3 hour trip back to northern Vermont ahead of us, we decided to sample only the inn trails.

The flat to undulating trails have no big hills to climb or descend.  Most Nordic ski areas in Vermont are either all up or all down and this is a welcome change, a great place to enjoy an even tempo or practice technique. Open views of meadows, barns and the small town of Landgrove offer the quintessential beauty of Vermont as you ski. After about 1 1/2 hours of skiing, we reluctantly took off our boots and said our goodbyes.

A view of the Village of Landgrove from the ski trail. (Patricia Lyon-Surrey photo)

The week-end was perfect with two days of exercise, good food, good company and the pure joy of having participated in an activity to better the world. I would encourage anyone who wants a relaxing yet active Vermont experience to put a team together for the Romp to Stomp and then bring yourself over to the Landgrove  Inn for your own après snowshoe celebration. I wish I had brought the rest of the Babushksa Sisters along!

Dan takes the lead as we enjoy a Sunday snowshoe trip (David Shedd photo)

Sometimes, you find excitement when you’re least expecting it. And a lazy Sunday afternoon is high on the list of “not exciting,” particularly after a busy Saturday. By 2 P.M., Susan and I were feeling half asleep, and needing some exercise to avoid “permanent nap” syndrome. Plus, we had a good meal planned, and needed to pre-burn some calories so we could fully enjoy it! Dan was working on a school project, and clearly had reached frustration stage; time for us all to get OUT of the house.

With a big field not far away, it seemed like grabbing our snowshoes and heading over made sense. That’s one of the great things about snowshoes versus cross-country skis; pretty much anyplace where there aren’t houses can become a playground. With multiple layers of snow/crust/snow, it would be hard to ski without tracks to follow, but tramping around on the snowshoes would be a breeze.

Ten minutes after deciding to go, we were dressed, grabbing our gear, and heading out the door with Barley our moron Golden Retriever bouncing along beside us.

It's difficult to see, but there's at LEAST 6 deer beds in this photo (David Shedd photo)

It was a lovely afternoon, some sun, some clouds, light winds, and a temperature in the upper 20s, perfect for getting exercise without getting too sweaty. The field was pristine; 10 acres or so of smooth snow. We set a good pace, and warmed up nicely before we hit the woods at the end. Hmm…the woods… We don’t know them, but one of the joys of winter is that you almost CAN’T get lost. Unless it’s snowing very, very hard, you can always follow your own tracks back. Time to become adventurers!

Almost immediately, we started to see signs of life. Deer tracks abounded (and, yes, some were bounding). As we worked our way deeper into the woods, it became clear that we were in a winter yard area. We found tracks galore, and beds everywhere. Several times, we found a half dozen or more beds under a stand of softwoods. Although I’d grown up with this, neither Susan nor Daniel had ever seen it. Explaining how the deer work together to keep trails open to food areas, linger under the hemlocks where the snow isn’t as deep, and tuck in together in sheltered areas to stay warm was fun for them AND for me.

Unusual to find, these tracks are of a ruffed grouse walking, then taking flight (David Shedd photo)

Expertise only goes so far, though, and shortly I was tested by some unusual tracks. I was saved by the pattern of wings in the snow, and by some droppings. What we had was a group of ruffed grouse that had been walking along, possibly eating seeds and the like falling from the trees above. Clearly they had gotten startled and taken off together!  From the looks of it, there were at least 4, possibly 5.  We could imagine the loud drumming sound they make as they flew off, and how startled we’d have been if WE’D been the ones to scare them out.

Not much farther along, here was another oddity. Under a scruffy old hemlock, we found numerous feathery branches lying in the snow. If there had been low hanging live branches, we’d have guessed deer, but there was nothing alive until 15 or 20 feet up. Time for more sleuthing! As we walked around the tree, we found a sort of muddy looking, wallowing track in the snow, leading from a hole tucked into a group of blowdown trees to the hemlock. I thought I had an answer, and looking down into the hole, found proof…a quill! A porcupine was climbing up into the tree for snacks! Since they aren’t exactly the cleanest creatures on the planet (let’s face it…if you were a porky, would YOU want to groom yourself???), the dirty tracks were a near giveaway.

Taking a dog into the woods can be a joy, but make sure they stay close to you! (David Shedd photo)

Speaking of tracks, it was difficult to follow them at times because Barley just loves to plow on ahead.  It’s amazing just how much havoc a 100-pound Golden can wreak on tracks in the snow; it’s like having your own furry snowplow. On the positive side, in the deepest snow it was easy to just walk in his trail, letting him do half the work for us.  Taking a dog with you when you’re out in the woods can be a lot of fun, but one word of caution. You MUST keep your dogs close to you, as they can literally kill deer in the deep snow. Following the deer and making them run is natural to to any dog, and while they don’t intend any harm, they can certainly cause it by making the deer burn energy reserves they need to get them through the long winter. Luckily for us, Barley’s goal seems to be to walk on our snowshoes and trip us, more than to chase something else down. But, we still watch him carefully to make sure he doesn’t go off and cause trouble.

As we continued on, we found more. Two different trees had large number of wood chips under them, clear signs that a pileated woodpecker (think Woody Woodpecker) was around. It’s amazing what they can do; holes in the trees were several inches deep, and some of the chips were 5 or 6 inches long. It gives me a headache just thinking about how much force it would take to do that! All that for a lunch of grubs…somehow, it just doesn’t appeal. Tracks of red squirrels, gray squirrels, and mice criscrossed the snow, giving us more clues to just how abundant and active the winter animal life is. And, of course, there was the flip side; a fox den with a well-worn path to it spoke of how tenuous life can be for all of those smaller animals (or for the fox, if it’s not a good hunter!).

Heading home, with Barley (for once!) trailing behind (David Shedd photo)

Before we knew it, an hour and a half had passed, and the sun was getting low in the sky.  Time to head back in and start cooking our now well-earned supper. Amazingly enough, we’d managed to tire Barley out enough that he actually wanted to follow our tracks back in. For once, the mutt had actually earned the treats that he’s always begging for. Back at home, we settled in, watching it get dark outside, feeling satisfied that we’d done something rather than just sit around. And, best of all, we’d seen a LOT of unexpected things! Everyone had learned something, we’d had to use our wits to figure out what we were seeing, and we had a better idea of what goes on in our backyard all the time. In the summer, we’d never have known most of that. Tracks in the snow allow us to see what an incredible range of animals are moving around, and what they actually do to stay warm, fed, and safe. For us, the heat is on, dinner’s cooking, and the doors are shut. We’re lucky, and thanks to our little adventure, we understand that more than ever!

David has recently written quite eloquently about the pleasures of a skiing vacation at “Smuggs”, as the Smugglers Notch Resort is commonly and affectionately known.  That inspired us to think about a snowshoe hike (or “swike,” as they like to call it at Smuggs) there, so when we heard that Tim & Marilyn were going to be up there, it seemed like a perfect time to combine a hike and a visit!  We met Tim and a couple of very friendly and helpful employees in the rental shop. One of them, generally known as just PK, was to have led a nature trip that morning, but it was snowing enough that most people canceled. Thus it was our good fortune to have him as our very affable and knowledgeable guide.

PK helps Edie figure out a new binding system (Tim Jones photo)

We were outfitted with TSL snowshoes which, it turns out, are actually manufactured in Vermont. These proved to be just a bit narrower than the Tubbs snowshoes that we used at the Trapp Family Lodge, and the binding system was different. Incidentally, we were interested to learn that more people rent snowshoes than skis at Smuggs. There are probably two reasons for this. First, there are likely a lot of people who are reluctant to try skis, which they regard as riskier and more difficult to use than snowshoes. Second, skiers are more likely to own their skis than are the more casual snowshoers.

We were told that, because of snow conditions, we would travel up Route 108, rather than on some of the other trails. That may seem a bit strange to the uninitiated, so a bit of explanation is in order. Route 108 goes up from Jeffersonville, Vermont, through Smuggler’s Notch, and down into Stowe. The road is closed in the winter for reasons that are readily apparent to anyone who has ever traveled this route! While the Jeffersonville side, where Smuggs is located, is a steady, moderate upgrade, the Stowe side is very steep, with incredibly sharp turns, often between massive boulders. In fact, it’s this area that gave Smugglers’ Notch its name, because smugglers were reputed to hide their goods (probably mostly illegal liquor) in the so-called caves in the notch. These are not true caves in the limestone tradition, but rather great jumbles of boulders left by the glacier, some of which form cavelike structures (a fun place to visit in the summer!).

A shuttle bus brought us up to the point where the road was closed, and we donned our snowshoes there. Then, with a moderate amount of wet snow falling, we set out up Route 108. The trail was wide and had been groomed occasionally, so it was well packed and easy going. However, we appreciated the excellent set of metal claws on the underside of our snowshoes, as the packed trail might otherwise have been rather slippery.

Intrepid explorers enjoying a snowy day at Smuggs (Tim Jones photo)

As already noted, the uphill slope was quite moderate – in fact more moderate than we remembered from having last driven the road quite a few years ago. As we snowshoed along, PK pointed out the long, extremely steep slope to our right; this led down to a fairly wide, flat valley floor. This marshy area, PK told us, has a beaver lodge, and he sometimes takes snowshoers down there on nature walks. We were surprised that snowshoes would hold on such a steep slope, but the TSL snowshoes have an exceptional set of metal claws underneath – well able to provide non-slip traction under those conditions. We were unable to see the beaver lodge through the snowflakes and the trees, but we elected not to attempt such a steep slope, good traction or not! Instead, we chose to continue getting our kicks on Route 108, and proceeded upward.

The scenery, though partially obscured by the snow, was lovely, with a steep, wooded slope rising to our left, and a steep, high slope to our right beyond the marshy valley. As we progressed, the steep slopes began to turn into impressive cliffs, which showed that we were drawing close to the Notch itself. At that point, we decided that we had had enough, so we turned around and headed back. As we descended, PK regaled us with various stories and bits of interesting information. One of these tales was particularly bizarre.

One night, a group having a torchlight ski were headed back down the Route 108 trail toward Smuggs, when, to their astonishment, they saw a set of automobile headlights coming up in their direction. They soon reached a car, driven by a young woman, that was firmly stuck in the snow. She had ignored a large “Road Closed” sign and managed to drive around a long, horizontal bar similar to those at railroad crossings. When asked why she had ignored such very obvious warnings, she said, “Well, because my GPS told me to go this way.”  GPS systems were presumably designed to be used with at least a modicum of common sense, including recognizing when a road is closed for the winter!  Incidentally, it required a trail groomer to pull the hapless woman’s car back down to the pavement.  Well worth it for the crew, though, as they got a great story that they’ll be able to tell for decades!

On the descent, Warner’s right foot twice came out of the harness, due to slippage in the heel strap. This had also happened at Trapp Family Lodge, and clearly indicated that his rubber bottom L.L. Bean Maine Hunting Shoe, although great for most purposes, aren’t the best choice for snowshoeing.  Instead, something with a firmer structure is required – a deficiency that will soon be remedied.

Edie really enjoyed the TSL snowshoes because they were a little narrower than the Tubbs snowshoes that she had previously used. Warner, more accustomed to snowshoes, didn’t notice any difference. We both appreciated the excellent traction provided by the metal claws underneath the shoes, but we agreed that we found the harnesses on the Tubbs snowshoes easier to use.  It was yet another reminder to really pay attention to the details if you’re shopping for snowshoes of your own.

A seed is planted; a late winter waterfall provides an idea for more walks! (Tim Jones photo)

Once again, we found that snowshoeing on a packed trail is a great way to get out and enjoy the winter weather. It reaffirmed our interest in either putting new harnesses on our own (long unused) snowshoes, or buying new snowshoes, so that we can do some off – trail snowshoeing in the woods around our home. The snow has now vanished, however, due to the unseasonably early spring. That means we’re now setting our sights on other adventures that appeal to us, and might offer you good opportunities to get some exercise and enjoy the natural world, as well. Hmmm, perhaps hikes to scenic waterfalls might be a lot of fun; in early spring, some of the small ones may be spectacular with the snowmelt.  Stay tuned!

The Trapp Family Lodge brings European charm to Vermont (Warner Shedd photo)

Thanks, at least in part, to The Sound of Music, everyone in this part of the world – and a lot of the rest of the world, too – knows about the Trapp family.  And, it happens that the  Trapp Family Lodge is in Stowe, Vermont, which is less than an hour’s drive from us. The family, their lodge, and things such as their network of cross country ski trails have assumed iconic status. When a very good friend told us how much fun she had cross country skiing there, it planted an idea in our heads.

We – and Warner in particular – used to do some cross country skiing in the woods around our home, but it became tough slogging for us, since we constantly had to break trail, usually in soft, deep snow.  The idea of groomed trails appealed, except that Edie was too afraid that she’d fall and break a bone. Skiing was not the only option, though: what about snowshoes, particularly with poles?

At one time, Warner did a ton of snowshoeing while working as a forester. These were with old wooden-frame shoes with varnished rawhide webbing. He always used the long, narrow variety with a substantial upturn on the front, variously known as Alaska or pickerel snowshoes. They served him very well, but there was no denying that the all-leather harnesses were often a royal pain. Going up a steep grade, for example, the heel strap would stretch as his foot slipped backwards. Then, as his foot shifted forward going downhill, the loosened heel strap would frequently come off, necessitating a halt to tighten everything up again!  Fast forward a great many years, and we purchased modern, aluminum frame snowshoes with plastic decking. These performed admirably except for one thing; despite a distinct improvement in the harnesses, they were still a pain to put on and take off.  Edie, in particular had great difficulty in properly adjusting her harnesses each time, and the snowshoes gradually languished in our storage shed.

A new era had dawned, however, as we read about the ease of using the latest versions of snowshoe harnesses.  Well, we thought, why not head for Trapp Family Lodge, where snowshoe rentals are available, and try the new wonders on groomed trails?  And so, on a beautiful sunny morning, we found ourselves en route. On the way, we were treated to some gorgeous views of Mount Mansfield, Vermont’s highest peak. With its upper reaches gleaming a brilliant, white, Mansfield was in its most resplendent finery.

Modern snowshoes are much smaller and easier to use than older styles! (Warner Shedd photo)

We chose to arrive at mid-morning on a weekday, on the theory that the trails were likely to be less crowded then. When we pulled into the parking lot by the Trapp Outdoor Center, our theory was proven correct, for it was only half full.  Inside the Center, we were directed downstairs to the area where rental snowshoes and skis were available. A young lady greeted us, and we told her what we were looking for. She proved to be not only extremely friendly and helpful, but also knowledgeable and professional.  In short order she outfitted us with Tubbs Venture 25 snowshoes equipped with React bindings. Along with these went Rossignol ski poles for Edie and Leki poles for Warner.  Then she showed us how to work the bindings, which proved to be a revelation. All we needed to do was push a foot all the way forward in the binding, pull on two straps on the top of the boot, flip a little plastic lever on each to lock the straps, and then put a strap around the heel and fasten it tightly. This can be done almost as fast as you can read this paragraph!

We then inquired about relatively flat trails that we could navigate easily, and were directed to go out on the Fox Track Trail, then back on the Sugar Road Trail.  An excellent map was also provided for our guidance.  With that, we went outside and put on the snowshoes.  They went on as easily as they had in the shop, and we set forth.  After about a hundred yards, the heel strap slipped off on Warner’s right boot. This was likely due to the fact that he was wearing “Bean boots”.  The heel area of these is soft, which meant that the heel strap simply needed to be tightened an extra notch; a firmer boot, like Edie’s, would make it a little easier to use the snowshoe bindings.  After that one glitch, though, the harnesses were perfectly secure.

Getting lost at the Trapp Family Lodge just isn't an option, thanks to excellent signage (Warner Shedd photo)

This trail was in the open for the first two or three hundred yards, then entered the woods – a pretty area of maples and birches. Occasionally someone on skis came up from behind and passed us, or we met skiers heading back toward the Visitor Center. The groomed trail was about 14 feet wide, so there was plenty of room for us without interfering in any way with the skiers. The terrain was quite flat, with only occasional small rises or descents. This made the walking easy and pleasant, and we took our time in order to enjoy the scenery and the experience…perfect for beginners!  The land sloped downhill to our left, and we could catch occasional glimpses of skiers – and a fellow snowshoer – below us on the Sugar Road.

Along the trail we encountered something that we had never seen before – skiers towing tiny sleds that contained a baby or very young child, snugly enclosed in its own little cabin. Why, we asked each other, hadn’t someone thought of such a clever arrangement when our children were little?  Apparently, it’s not just snowshoes that have improved!

"Maria's Bench" welcomes you to relax. Notice the sap buckets on the trees behind! (Warner Shedd photo)

When we reached the junction of the Sugar Road, it was perfect timing for turning around; unaccustomed to snowshoes, Edie was beginning to feel a little leg strain, and didn’t want to push too hard at this early stage in our adventures.  As we turned back along the Sugar Road, the reason for the name became obvious: here there were some larger sugar maples, and these were hung with buckets to collect the sap for making that delectable golden syrup. Near one of them was a bench and a sign that read “Maria Plaza.” This, we realized, was the spot where Maria, the matriarch of the von Trapp family, used to come during her later years to enjoy the peace, quiet, and beauty of nature. That inspired us to stop for a few moments to do the same.

Snowshoers and XC skiers share the beauty of the day (Warner Shedd photo)

As we emerged from the woods and approached the Visitor Center, we could see that the parking lot had filled up greatly in the short while that we had been absent. Already there were many more skiers headed out, and we were glad we’d decided to come mid-morning on a weekday.  One of the advantages of being retired; we can do what we want when we want!  While there was no conflict with the skiers, it was certainly easier to snowshoe the trails when we didn’t have to be concerned about getting in their way.

The snowshoes and poles had performed admirably. The Tubbs Venture 25s are small snowshoes, making them easy to walk in and ideal for a groomed trail. One particularly nice feature of these snowshoes (and larger models, as well) is a set of toothed metal grippers on the underside, which keeps the snowshoes from slipping in all sorts of going. Warner, remembering all too well the days of slipping and sliding on steep slopes with the old-fashioned snowshoes, thought that these were an enormous improvement!  If you’re thinking about getting snowshoes for yourself, you might want to read EasternSlopes.com’s snowshoe test.

It’s difficult to tell how far we traveled; maybe we should get pedometers!  However, the round trip on the two trails probably amounted to something like three-quarters of a mile. As it turned out, Edie was wise to limit the distance on this first outing with snowshoes; that night she developed a cramp on the inside of one thigh – the product, no doubt, of walking a bit differently while wearing the unfamiliar snowshoes.  Lesson learned…don’t push too much too soon while you’re getting back into shape, or trying something new!

After returning the snowshoes, we decide that we deserved a little treat, so we took ourselves off to the Trapp’s Tea House. There we enjoyed some excellent coffee, delicious roast beef sandwiches, and very friendly service. Warner ended up by sinning greatly: he simply couldn’t resist a piece of the wonderful Black Forest cake!  It was nice to learn that the food at the Trapp Family Lodge lives up to everything else we encountered there.

Looking back on the trip, we agreed that snowshoes on a groomed trail are an excellent way to get out and enjoy the winter scenery. This can be as easy or as physically challenging as you wish, depending on the trail(s).  Going to the Trapp Family Lodge, or some place that rents snowshoes and can show you how to use them, is a great way to see how it will work for you.  It also led us to think about snowshoeing off-trail near our home. We’re going to look into the possibility of replacing the present bindings on our own snowshoes with a set of the React bindings, or simply getting new ‘shoes. Then, with the much greater ease of putting them on and taking them off , we’ll be a lot more apt to get out and exercise in the winter woods.  It’s amazing how, after only a couple of little trips, we’re starting to see all sorts of possibilities for both exercise and fun, even in the winter!

Testing snowshoes is a tough job, but someoner has to do it! (Tim Jones photo)

Editor Note: Since this story was last updated in March, a lot of snowshoe companies have made some pretty impressive changes to their lineups. Stay tuned for an update as soon as snow flies. In the meantime, these reviews should help you sort out what’s out there now.

After Tim’s recent story on choosing snowshoes, so many of you wrote asking for the results of the EasternSlopes.com snowshoe tests that we’re sharing them with everyone before the test is complete.

We aren’t writing about every snowshoe on the market. Not even close! That’s because we haven’t actually tried all the snowshoes on the market, and we won’t write about anything we haven’t actually used.

We have put in a lot of miles on some of these snowshoes. These are real miles, on packed trails, icy crust, and untracked powder on flats, steeps and sidehills, with packs on and without.

We deliberately try to break snowshoes. So far, we’ve (mostly) failed . . .

Here’s a look specific snowshoe models we’ve actually used. In some cases, the tests are still incomplete and  we’ll be adding info and opinions as the winter progresses. We also  hope to be testing additional shoes this winter. So stay tuned! If you agree or disagree with any of our assessments, please feel free to post a comment, we’d love to hear about your experiences.

Tubbs Couloir 30 ($200-250), 5.5 lbs/pair; 9×32 inches

Tubbs Couloir 30 (Tim Jones photo)

Tim’s everyday go-to snowshoe for years has been the Tubbs Couloir 30. He used his first pair so often the plastic decking began cracking where it wrapped around the frame. Tubbs replaced them without questions and he’s had no issues since. The Couloir is wider (9 inches) than some other snowshoes which provides more flotation, though some people might find it too wide.

The binding on this shoe is as good as we’ve ever tried–very easy to get into and out of even with mittens on—just be careful to keep the flip-up catch that secures the heel strap clear of ice. The binding pivots easily so the tail of the shoe drags as it should and any snow on it slides off as you lift. The binding also flexes slightly side-to-side which may help the shoe stay flatter on the snow for better traction when sidehilling. An easy-to-use flip-up wire heel riser makes long climbs less tiring on your calves.  Nice touch.  The aggressive steel claws stay sharp and traction is excellent in all conditions.

For several years now, Marilyn has used the Tubbs Odyssey 25 (9×25 inches) Women’s which has since been replaced by the upgraded Women’s Couloir model. She simply loves the shoes, has no trouble at all handling the bindings with mittens on. She’s happy, we’re happy.

TSL Over The Top 30 ($220) 6 lbs/pair; 8×31 inches

TSL Over The Top 30 (Tim Jones photo)

These aluminum-frame snowshoes are made in Vermont. They are slightly heavier than some other snowshoes, but bombproof–you couldn’t break them if you tried, and we’ve tried. The 8-inch width makes for more natural walking but a little less flotation.

The bindings are solid, very positive, comfortable but take some tinkering to fit. Once set up they are easy to use even with mittens. The heel lift is awkward to engage and disengage without removing mittens, but there when you need it. The steel traction cleats are long, sharp and aggressive. These are my favorite snowshoes for hard crusted snow.

TSL 227 Escape ($150) 4.8 lbs/pair; 9×29 inches

TSL 227 Escape (David Shedd photo)

These lightweight composite snowshoes look like they’ll break instantly. Three seasons later and many miles with heavy packs in tough conditions, they’re still going strong.  The plate-style bindings are easy to use once set to your boot, comfortable, supportive and have a flip-up heel lift. The ribbed composite deck grips well on softer snow while six stainless-steel spikes and a traction claw grip on hard snow. A little “keel” hanging off the back end helps the shoes to track straight. David’s sweetheart Susan loves these shoes.

LL Bean/Tubbs Pathfinder (159) 4.6 lbs/pair, 9 x 31 inches

LL Bean/Tubbs Pathfinder 30 (David Shedd photo)

We haven’t given these a full test, but they cost much less than the top-of the line Tubbs and even less that the (nearly?) identical Ventures. With a lighter, less expensive shoe you give up some features such as the heel lift. The binding allows a little more random foot movement and the heel strap is harder to tighten, but it works with mittens on. If you only occasionally head up steeper mountains with a pack on, it appears these will do just fine and you’ll appreciate the lighter weight on the easier trails.

Yukon Charlie’s Guide 825 ($125) 4.8 lbs/pair, 8×27 inches

Yukon Charlie's Guide 25 (Tim Jones photo)

Yukon Charlie’s shoes have been redesigned since I got these but the basics remain the same. For inexpensive snowshoes, the quality is surprisingly good. The bindings are solid and easy to use with two ratcheting buckles over the boot and a simple heel strap adjustable for length. The traction claws are aluminum and dull easily on rock but work fine on crusted snow. On warmer days, snow tends to ball up in the aluminum crampon. To solve this problem (which is common to all aluminum crampons) spray them with silicone before the start of each trip. The Yukon Charlies are a no frills snowshoe that works; definitely worth a look if you are walking primarily on easy-to-maderate terrain and don’t want to pop for bells and whistles you don’t need.

LL Bean Winter Walker 30 ($119) 5.25 lbs/pair, 9 x 30 inches

LL Bean Wilderness 30 (David Shedd photo)

Impressive in early testing, these look to be a genuine a bargain for a recreational snowshoe for easy to moderate terrain. Bindings are fairly simple to use with some practice. We lent them to novice snowshoer Matt Marean and he had some difficulty figuring out the bindings initially, but no trouble once he’d used them a bit. We’ll have more on these shoes later when they’ve seen more miles on varying snow conditions.

Kahtoola Flight Deck TS24 ($274), 4 lbs/pair, 9×24 inches

Kahtoola TS 24 (David Shedd photo)

Unique, dual-purpose snowshoes. A separate cleat system straps to your boot, serves as an aggressive traction creeper when you don’t need the flotation of the snowshoe. Cleats snap onto the aluminum-frame snowshoe deck (three sizes available). Neat, simple, works extremely well when the deck is on a firm surface, harder in deep snow. A pull tab releases binding easily. The decks are low profile, easy to carry on  a pack.

One huge flaw with these shoes is the tight toe cords which don’t allow the deck to pivot freely. You pick up weight of the entire snowshoe (and any snow on it) with each step, which is tiring. And, they flip snow onto your legs and back with each step . . .  Annoying.

The real flaw of these snowshoes for wilderness use, however, is that the webbing harness on the cleat freezes up and they are nearly impossible to put on your boots and take off in the cold. Not a good choice for winter camping.

LL Bean Trailblazer 30 ($220 includes special winter boots with step-in binding), 3.2 lbs/pair, 8 x 30 inches

LL Bean Trailblazer Step-In (David Shedd photo)

Another intriguing step-in snowshoe binding concept, this one free-pivoting so decks shed snow. Spring-loaded steel pins snap into metal detents built into very comfortable winter boots that you could wear anytime you are out in snow. The connection point looks flimsy, but neither David nor I have been able to break or twist out of them—not even wearing a 50-pound pack! The step-in feature works easiest on a firm surface—more difficult in deep snow. Simply push with the tip of a ski pole to release. Much more testing needed this winter!

MSR Lightning Ascent 30 ($250), 4.4 Lbs/pair, 8×30 inches.

We tested these serious snowshoes on on a variety of snow conditions from  wind-drifted powder to frozen crust to rotting corn snow and they passed all tests with flying colors. Strong, stable lightweight aluminum bar-stock  frame with cleats around the entire perimeter for excellent grip and flotation in all snow conditions, even with a heavy pack.

Heel riser flips up easily for climbing. Like all snowshoe bindings, this one has a (short) learning curve. I’m a bit concerned about potential wear on the edges of the frame when encountering exposed rock or ledge (it happens a lot in the northeast) but there is otherwise absolutely nothing bad to be said about these superb shoes.

MSR Denali EVO Ascent, ($170), 4 lbs/Pair, 8×22 inches,

MSR Denali EVO Ascents with Flotation tails (Tim Jones photo)

We tested these on a variety of snow conditions from wind-drifted powder to frozen crust to rotting corn snow. They are excellent lightweight “emergency” shoes  and ideal for use by a smaller person without a pack. They have an excellent and secure binding that’s easy to use with mittens. They are, however,  simply too small and too flexible for regular use on steep or sidehill terrain with a winter backpack. An optional “flotation tail” is beautifully engineered to fit securely to the tail of the shoe. Unfortunately, it provided no useful added flotation that we could determine in any of the snow conditions we encountered. In fact, the lengthened tail combined with the short tip of these shoes causes the shoe to tilt down and dig in deeper at the tip, making walking awkward, especially in soft-but-heavy snow. On breakable wind crust they will trip you up. Based on our experience in the snow conditions we’ve encountered so far, we recommend the shoes but NOT the flotation tails.

Slow-but-steady, snowshoes will take you step by step into a winter wonderland. (Tim Jones photo)

Gliding on cross-country skis is elegant (and exhausting). Carving turns on open slopes and through the woods on Telemark and alpine skis is exhilarating. Sledding is simple joy. But if I had to choose one piece of equipment to enjoy snow with, it would probably be a good pair of modern snowshoes.

Slow-but-steady snowshoes are the All Terrain Vehicles of winter. Pick the right pair for you and you can go almost anywhere from the highest summits to the gentlest valley, through deep snow or over slippery ice.

If you don’t already own snowshoes, I’d strongly recommend renting and/or borrowing (ask your friends!) as many different pairs as you possibly can to try out before you buy. Most cross-country ski areas rent snowshoes; so do outdoor shops and many snow-country lodges.

Each brand and each model has slightly different characteristics, different bindings, different price tags. The more you’ve tried, the more likely you are to find the right pair for you.

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

A snowshoe, has four main components: the frame, the decking which fills the frame (in the case of plastic snowshoes, frame and decking are one), bindings, and traction cleats. Each of these components has its impact on how the snowshoes will perform for you.

Most modern snowshoes have a lightweight aluminum frame which (except among traditionalists) has replaced the bent ash of yesteryear. The decking of modern shoes is plastic instead of rawhide. This combination is strong, lightweight and essentially maintenance free.

The other modern standard is a stiff plastic deck that does away with the need for a frame. They look like they’d break easily. They don’t .

Bindings are especially important. They should be easy for you to put on and take off, preferably with mittens on.  More than one pair of snowshoes sits unused in an attic or garage because the bindings are hard to use.

One thing to look for in the binding: does it allow the snowshoe to pivot freely when you lift your foot so the tail of the snowshoe stays on the snow with each step? Some snowshoes have a tight connection (called a toe cord) that forces you to pick up the entire weight of the shoe  and any snow that’s on it. Snowshoes with a tight toe cord can flip snow up your back (and down your neck) with each step. Yes, that’s as unpleasant as it sounds. . ..

Sherpa made the very first "modern" aluminum framed snowshoe more than 30 years ago. Not how wimpy the cleats are compared to newer designs--but they still work. (Tim Jones photo)

The final component of modern shoes is traction cleats. These were pioneered more than three decades ago by a defunct company called Sherpa. I still have  a pair of the original Sherpa’s  and the “teeth” under the foot are tiny compared to today’s crampon-like designs.  In fact, many of today’s snowshoe claws are so aggressive, they’ll take you some places you used to need full crampons.

In addition to the claws directly under your foot, most modern snowshoes also have additional cleats or spikes  back under your heel area. These allow extra traction on steep downhill terrain if you put a bit of weight on your heel. Trust me, the last thing you want to do is go glissading down a steep slope on your snowshoes—especially if you are wearing a pack.

Any snowshoes are better than no snowshoes, but good ones that you like and find easy to use are the best of all. Snowshoes give you infinite opportunities to enjoy winter at a safe and friendly pace, uphill and down,  across the snowcovered landscape. Try some out today. Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!

Size Matters

The sizing charts companies provide to help you choose snowshoes only tell part of the story. Most only tell you to choose by your weight. But is that weight with or without winter boots, clothes, and the pack you need to carry your winter safety gear? See the problem?

There’s also the matter of flotation. Bigger snowshoes generally float you higher on softer, untracked snow than small shoes do. Some of the tiniest snowshoes today are made for running on packed and groomed trails—but they’re about useless anywhere else. They look tempting, but be careful.

The plus side of smaller shoes is that they are lighter and, perhaps a bit more maneuverable

Personally, I generally pick snowshoes a size larger than the sizing chart recommends—I’d rather go too big than too small, have a little more flotation than too little.

Snowshoe Testing Notes

Alas, in all the years I’ve tramped the trails on snowshoes, I’ve never found the perfect pair for all terrain and conditions.  But some are awfully close . . .

In recent years I’ve extensively tested aluminum-frame shoes from TSL, Tubbs, Yukon Charlie’s and Kahtoola. Each has had its pros and cons .

I have less experience with the composite plastic shoes. I tried pre-production prototypes of the first plastic shoes nearly two decades ago when Bill Forrest of Forrest Mountaineering and Patrick Smith of Mountainsmith were making them out of blue plastic barrels. MSR now markets the direct descendents but I’ve never tried the production models. Tubbs and GV Snowshoes also have new composite shoes. I have, however, extensively tested an excellent pair of composite shoes from TSL and will happily give my impressions.

You can occasionally find surplus Canadian military issue snowshoes with magnesium frames and wire fillings for sale, particularly in northern New England. They are bombproof but weigh a ton.

And then of course there are still wood framed snowshoes filled with either traditional rawhide or neoprene. Beautiful to look at and perfectly wonderful on soft snow, they require more care to use and maintain than the knockabout modern models.

Brooks, even tiny ones can make snowshoeing interesting. Use your poles to stabilize yourself as you approach the crossing, as you step across, and as you climb up the far bank. You don’t want to fall in forwards, backwards or sidewise . . . (Tim Jones photo)

A number of years ago, someone asked me why I didn’t write a book on snowshoes and snowshoeing technique. I told them I could, but it would be the world’s shortest book:

“Attach snowshoes to feet, place one foot in front of other until destination is reached.” Or something like that.

Of course I was being a bit facetious. There’s more to snowshoeing than that.

But getting started with snowshoes, especially on packed trails, IS that easy. You really DO just put on a pair of snowshoes and place one foot in front of the other until you get where you want to go.

Don’t believe me? Late February and all of March are prime time for snowshoeing. Go to any cross-country ski area and try it out on their groomed trails. Or, if you can borrow a pair of modern snowshoes that fit you, go for a stroll on a snowmobile trail. You’ll see what I mean. Easy, simple, fun.

It’s when the snow isn’t packed or tracked, especially when it gets deep and soft or very crusty that snowshoeing gets to be more challenging. And if you tackle the deep, untracked snow or hard crust and add in a steep slope, plus a heavy backpack, it can get very interesting and challenging indeed.

In any of those conditions, you quickly learn some tricks of advanced snowshoe technique.

First tricks for untracked powder or a breakable crust over powder: if you are alone, take it slow and easy, especially if you have a long way to go. No matter how big your snowshoes are, you sink deep into soft snow, and breaking trail is a lot of work. If you are in a group, take turns breaking trail. The temptation will be to let the strongest among you break trail all the time. Instead, spread the effort so everyone contributes according to their ability. It gives everyone a chance to find out what they can do. Even if they only lead for a few feet, they’ll learn something (and have a better appreciation for what the person in the lead is doing!).

A very thick, hard crust can make snowshoeing very easy—or very hard. It depends. A crust thick enough to support you lets you go anywhere you want to go. Great fun.

But on steeper terrain, it can get tricky. Most modern snowshoes have traction crampons underneath—every snowshoe brand is slightly different. Learning how to efficiently dig those cleats into hard snow takes some practice. I’d recommend starting out on something short, steep and open, where a slip and subsequent slide won’t send you careening into danger (nylon outer clothes make a great sled on hard snow!)

Some newer snowshoes have flip-up heel risers (On my favorite Tubbs Couloirs it’s a stout wire) on the bindings which makes it easier to stay comfortable and balanced when climbing steep hills. Nice touch. Really reduces lower leg fatigue on long climbs.

Sidehilling, or traveling across a slope rather than straight up and down it , can be tough on an unbreakable crust. Some snowshoes have bindings that allow your foot to remain straighter up and down while the snowshoe deck tilts to the angle of the slope. Without this feature, your ankles are going to get awfully tired. Sometimes, on really steep hills and icy hills it’s necessary to face up the hill and step crabwise across the slope to keep from slipping.

But snowshoes are fun and will get you to places of beauty you could never reach any other way.

Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!

OBSTACLES 101

Get your weight forward when climbing a steep bank on snowshoes. (Tim Jones photo)

The most common obstacles in backcountry snowshoeing are brook crossings. Even little ones can be interesting, because the banks are often steep with a lot of snow piled on them.

Here’s the best advice I can give:

1) Ease yourself down the bank to the edge of the flow, using your poles to prevent you from sliding into the water. Stop and reconnoiter, plan your crossing

2) Reach out and plant both poles on either side of the next point you are going to step to, whether that’s all the way across a tiny runlet or to a stable rock in a larger stream

3) After the poles are firmly set, take your step. Repeat this until you reach the other side.

4) Plant both poles solidly and use them to help you up the bank.

The other obstacle you often encounter on backcountry trails are downed trees—especially after last December’s ice storms. You have three choices when I comes to trees—over, under or around. Around is almost always the best and safest option—though it sometimes means backtracking. Sometimes, however, there’s just no way around.

In the days of wooden snowshoes, you had to be careful going over fallen trees and branches, If you put the tip of your snowshoe on the tree and put your weight on it with the middle unsupported, you could snap your snowshoe in half—and you were in deep trouble. So you always made sure to step your foot solidly up onto any tree or rock you had to cross. I still do that, with modern snowshoes, because the crampons will dig in and keep you from slipping.

Going under a fallen tree is a last resort. Trying to crawl with snowshoes and a pack is no fun! Go around if you can.

RENTAL OPTIONS

If you don’t own snowshoes and can’t borrow them, you can always rent.

EMS rents snowshoes at most of their New England and New York locations.

So do many independent outdoor shops, especially in “destination” areas. I’ve rented from both Umiak Outfitters in Stowe, Vermont, and Clearwater Sports in Waitsfield, Vermont when renting was easier than toting my own.

And most cross-country ski areas and some alpine ski shops rent snowshoes. Wherever you are going, you’ll find ‘em if you look.

Happy New Year! The only sad part of this New Year’s celebration was leaving the AMC’s High Cabin on Cardigan Mountain in New Hampshire and snowshoeing back to “civilization.” Photo by David Shedd

It took a lot of planning and commitment, but my sweetheart Marilyn and I, and five of our friends, Danielle, Bruce, Johane, Bill and David, all enjoyed the most wonderful start to the New Year imaginable.

The planning began several months ago, when I reserved the AMC’s  High Cabin  on Cardigan Mountain in Alexandria, New Hampshire. Because New Year’s Day was a midweek, non-holiday night, the entire cabin cost $56. Including tax. (On weekends, it’s just over $100 for AMC members who get a discount.)

The High Cabin sits at an elevation of 2,628 feet in a tiny clearing about a half mile from the summit of Cardigan (3,155 feet). Spectacular setting, especially at sunrise in winter. You get there by hiking (this year on snowshoes!) a little more than two miles (according to the map) and 1200 vertical feet from the AMC’s Cardigan Lodge, carrying everything you need on your back.

The cabin has 12 bunks, a woodstove, a dry sink, a two-burner propane stove and a state-of-the art composting toilet. A seasonal spring flows nearby or you can melt snow and ice.

Sunrise view. When the snowstorm ended in the night, it left this idyllic winter scene to be viewed through the front door of the High Cabin on Mount Cardigan. (Tim Jones photo)

Everyone we invited wanted to come, but some were traveling, others had work obligations. Several people planned to join us for New Year’s Day, hike in, eat lunch and then hike out. They all dropped out as the day got closer. Their loss.

Eventually we ended up with seven overnighters. Seven or eight is the ideal number for this cabin in winter—enough to make the cabin feel “full,” yet still let everyone have a seat close to the woodstove. And nobody had to sleep in the top bunks.

Starting around Thanksgiving, we began welding the group into a team focused on having fun, eating well and being safe and comfortable. Everyone got a detailed gear and food list; everyone had responsibilities. In my experience, careful planning is the only way an adventure like this can work—if you leave anything to chance, something critical will be forgotten. That’s bad in the summer; in winter it can mean real trouble.

Our original plan was to leave Cardigan Lodge (a wonderful base for adventures) shortly after 9 a.m. which, would put us in the High Cabin before noon, leaving time for a trip to the summit.

Then, life happened . . .

It was after 10 before we actually hit the trail. The weather forecast called for snow in the afternoon but it was snowing when we started walking and snowing hard by the time we reached “Grand Junction” a mile from the lodge, where the trail really starts climbing.

Two Miles to Home. The only way to reach the High Cabin in winter is to snowshoe or ski up two miles of trail. Reaching your goal brings a sense of accomplishment. (David Shedd photo)

Backpacking is a great equalizer. The stronger hikers carry more weight, and take turns breaking trail; theoretically, everyone arrives at the destination about equally tired.

By the time we reached the cabin, we had near-blizzard conditions. So we spent the afternoon lazing close to the woodstove, grazing on abundant food, sharing stories, venturing back out into the storm only to get water. We all pitched in on dinner, ate at 6:30 by lantern light and were asleep by 8.

The next morning, we enjoyed a spectacular sunrise, ate a hearty breakfast, packed up, cleaned up the cabin, and hiked out (downhill all the way!) through a foot of fresh powder snow.

Happy Campers! A sunny morning, fresh snow on the trail, a beautiful overlook high on a mountain. What better way to spend the first days of a new year!? (Tim Jones photo)

I feel genuinely sorry for anyone who has never had an experience like this. None of us are heroes: the youngest is 45, the oldest 58; one of us needs a hip replacement, one has a bad back, another has had heart surgery. But we picked a manageable challenge, planned it out, and we did it. Walking out, the world looked different, better, fresher, more exciting than it had when we started hiking in. What a great way to start a new year!

Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!