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!

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!

Let's go play! (Raelyn Viti photo)

Actually, winter is enticing not only for kids. My students and colleagues at New England College in Henniker, New Hampshire (where I run the outdoors program) have been checking snowshoes out of the equipment closet every day this winter.

Recently, two of my students and I had the joy of taking a group of children to the woods to play on snowshoes. It was a cold day, but the sun was shining. Presidents’ Week vacation was coming to an end, and local daycares and vacation camps had done a great job of entertaining children, but these kids were more than ready for an opportunity to just get outdoors and “play.”

As we eagerly waited for the bus full of children to arrive, we aligned 18 pairs of snowshoes and stood in the sun. We heard the rumble of the bus as it pulled up. The doors opened and within seconds the three of us were bombarded with yells from energetic little puffballs. I couldn’t even make out their faces beneath the hats and hoods.

Practicing their new moves. (Raelyn Viti photo)

The excitement level was high, and the  smiles never left our faces, let alone theirs. Once the snowshoes were on we all tromped through the snow and into the woods.

Clearly, just hiking was not going to be enough to stave off boredom and expend the energy these little guys needed to burn to keep warm.

With a group of 18 kids, games were in order. We played a series of non-competitive games usually played in gyms or open fields. As an outdoor educator, I have played team games, tag games, and scavenger hunts with children on snowshoes. In fact, almost any game can be played on snowshoes. Playing them on snowshoes adds an element of silliness, especially when the snowshoes are sized for adults!

Can't Catch Me! (Raelyn Viti photo)

For a full hour and a half our “students” were laughing, falling, and playing in the snow on snowshoes. One of the games we played involves pretending to be birds. The object is to protect nests, gather food for survival, and keep the blue jays away. As the children tromped through the snow to find places to hide their nests, you could almost hear their smiles. A look in the distance showed students exploring the woods as they contemplated the strategy of their nest hiding.

The Blue Jays (two children deemed “it”) began counting loudly to 25 with their eyes closed and couldn’t stop laughing. The shout of “TWENTY-FIVE!” brought 16 juncos (the rest of the children) running to the feeders (adults holding bags of beans) to get food to bring back to their hidden nests.

Hiding and finding "nests." (Raelyn Viti photo)

When it came time to end our day on snowshoes, all we heard were grumbles and moans. The children were reluctant to leave and go back inside on a cold day. They wanted to play more games and explore the woods. As we walked down the trail to where the bus was parked they talked of where to hide nests next time, if they could jump off the top of the hill, challenges of who could walk backwards, and some asking their parents for their own pair of snowshoes.

Playing with children outside, even in the cold,  can bring out the inner-child in all of us. Don’t let winter keep you trapped indoors. Get outside! Dress properly with warm layers and no cotton. Keep the activity level high, and the fun level up in the clouds. Snacks and water are also key components to having fun.

Jays and Juncos

Even from a distance you can see the fun! (Raelyn Viti photo)

The game our group played is called “Jays and Juncos,” and it keeps kids moving, thinking and exploring.

Here are the rules:

Everyone gets a nest (bowls or cups work well.)

The object is to get as much food as possible to feed their babies.  At the end of the game ( a predetermined time) each 4 beans equals 1 baby bird.

One or more players are designated Blue Jays (1 Jay  for every 8 Juncos). They steal seeds from the nests

The Blue Jay counts to “25″ while the Juncos hide their nests.

At 25 ,the Juncos run to the feeder  (a person holding a bag of beans.)

The Juncos each receive 5 beans (food) to bring back to their nest.

The Blue Jays try to find nest and steal the food, A Jay can only take 3 beans at a time and may not return to the same nest consecutively.

The Juncos run to and from their nest collecting food from the feeder.

The children can use different strategies to hide their nest and get as much food as possible. For example, hiding a nest farther away is safe from Blue Jays, but makes it hard to get food; hiding a nest closer may allow a Blue Jay to find the nest more easily, but also allows the Junco to continually retrieve more beans from the feeder.

When the game ends, some children may need help with math to figure out how many babies they have.

Everyone wins!

I really love this job because I am rarely told “No.” Within a few days I was signed up for the race and had wrangled my good friend, Jim, into being my partner. (It didn’t take a lot of work. He can be as foolish and impulsive as me at times.) We were both excited. As outdoor enthusiasts and avid runner/hikers we felt we had the stamina to complete the race. The question was: Did we have the skills to actually compete against experienced adventure athletes?

Lack of skill has never stopped us from trying anything before. .  . .

Teams gather for pre-race information. (Brett Lund photo)

The Frigid Infliction is put on by the Green Mountain Adventure Racing Association (GMARA). We would compete in mutiple events, snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, postholing (hiking through deep snow without snowshoes), and a Tyrolean traverse (pulling oneself across a suspended rope) all while navigating by map and compass. Teams of two or three individuals (coed or not) compete in divisions. The risk in having a two-person team is that if one of us could not continue, we’d be out of the race because at least two team members had to complete the course. Jim and I were already placing bets as to which one of us would drop out, but I was pleased to read on the GMARA website that the race was well suited to beginner adventure racers. I hoped I would not have to increase my life insurance policy.

The race registration was on Friday night at Bolton Valley Nordic Center, and we drove the two hours up I-89 through impressively deep snow; 14 inches was sticking to the trees as we navigated up the access road to Bolton.

Friday night’s registration included an equipment check, last-minute compass and navigation training, and some pre-race information. The race would start promptly at 5:00 Saturday morning and teams were instructed to arrive a half hour earlier to receive maps and more instructions. The mandatory gear list was laid out for us, and safety was obviously the order of the day. If you became lost or hurt, you needed to be prepared to be in the woods for a while until help arrived. And since all teams were required to carry the same safety items, no one team would have a weight advantage.

Jim near the first checkpoint. (Brett Lund photo)

We had a comfortable room at Bolton’s slopesside Hotel, but we hardly saw the room. So-called “morning” (3:45, yikes!) came much too early. But the competitive juices kicked in, and we were wide awake and ready to race by the time we arrived at the Nordic Center to receive pre-race instructions. Not having done an adventure race before, I had no idea that there would be so little time to review the map prior to starting. Topographical maps and Bolton Valley Nordic Center maps were handed out with race instructions. At this point competitors were given about 10 minutes to develop a plan.

For the first leg, we would compete on snowshoes to find three check points designated on our maps in any order. Jim and I quickly decided to climb to the highest checkpoint first, so that we could move quickly downhill to the next two after locating the first.

Running between checkpoints would be our main advantage. (Brett Lund photo)

After the mass start, the pack quickly broke into three groups. A third of our group had a similar game plan. While out of practice with compass navigation, I knew enough to get us into the right area, then compared the topos of the Nordic Center to help us generalize the location of the checkpoint. Teams with strong compass skills had a distinct advantage in the dark: using observable topography was challenging at best. But as long as you can get close, being observant can help you find the checkpoint.

Checkpoint marker with hole punch dangling. Brett Lund Photo

Much of the traveling took place on Nordic Center trails, though finding the checkpoints would require off-trail navigation. When we felt we were in the right general location, we dove into the woods, and up a hill to eventually locate the first checkpoint. At each of these checkpoints there is an orange “box” flag suspended from a tree. Each has a unique hole punch tool to mark check cards and these are examined by race officials at the finish to determine what checkpoints were found. After checkpoint one, we sped off to the second and third. Running with snowshoes is not too difficult if you are a runner to begin with, and this worked to our advantage. While the second point took time to find, the third was easy as it was in a creekbed. After the three, we high-tailed it back to the start and the first of five transitions.

Transition area 1. Snowshoe to cross- country skis. (Brett Lund photo)

After lashing our snowshoes to our backpacks, we set out on cross-country skis to find three more checkpoints. Two hours had passed, and we were doing surprisingly well.

The next three points had to be found in order, and they would be just off of the cross-country trail system. Comparing topo to trail map made compass work almost unnecessary for this leg. However, these points were a greater distance apart, and we would need to make good course decisions to speed our team along. Again we reached the first point quickly, then prepared to race downhill and across some challenging ski trails to the second point. Cross country skiing on steep and tight terrain can be tough, but add a 25-pound pack to the mix, and it can be VERY challenging. Jim had warned me before the race that skiing would be his Achilles heel. But he showed a lot of grit and determination by repeatedly getting up and dusting himself off after numerous face plants (thank goodness for the 14 inches of new powder!) Made for some great laughs, though.

A fellow competitor checks his map at a transition. (Brett Lund photo)

While we were able to find our three points, we had lost some ground to iced-up bindings and a decision to try an untracked “shortcut” to the third point. Breaking trail can be exhausting, even when you share the task with other teams; by ourselves, it really slowed us down.

During the ski leg we saw much of the Bolton Valley Nordic Center’s expansive and varied trail system. They offer groomed terrain for skate skiers and narrow winding trails for backcountry enthusiasts. I found myself wishing we had more time to just explore.

Jim tackes the Tyrolean traverse. Holy burning forearms! - Brett Lund photo

The next transition put us back on snowshoes for the route to  the Tyrolean traverse (a rope strung tightly across a gulley). Required equipment included a climbing harness and two carabiners for each racer. Using the harness and carabiners, you clip yourself onto the rope, and pull yourself across upside down, with your pack on. This is easy to start, but after you reach the lowest point, you begin pulling uphill, which is a workout. The distance was relatively short, and both Jim and I were across in no time.

The next portion of the race was “postholing.”  Try walking through deep snow with no snowshoes and you get the idea. At times you stay on top, and at times you “post hole” when you break through up to your knees or even thighs. This is where it helped to be back in the pack—we had plenty of teams in front of us to make the travel easier. However, this is also the point in the race where fatigue had begun to set in, and even a simple task can seem difficult.

Once we collected markers from the next three checkpoints, we again transitioned to snowshoes to find the final five checkpoints. Now, time was the issue; we had to finish by 3 p.m, and a costly navigation mistake forced us to miss the last two checkpoints and make a beeline to the last transition area.

Do I have enough energy to chew? Fueling up at the final checkpoint. - Brett Lund photo

When we encountered other teams it was obvious that everyone was fatigued. After nine hours of practically non-stop exercise, my legs were heavy. For the last, long, uphill slog to the finish, Jim opted for snowshoes , while I hopped on my skis. There was no real feeling of “racing” at this point, just a need to finish. A lot of teams were bunched together. We would have no idea how many checkpoints our competitors had found until after the race. We would just have to hope that our combination of checkpoints and time on the course would give us a respectable finish. But truthfully, just finishing would give us plenty of self respect!

We crossed the line at just over 10 hours, and quickly realized that even walking to the car would be a challenge. Thankfully, a hot shower, a hot tub and a small bar awaited in the Nordic Center.

Finished!!! Can someone carry us to the car? Please. (Courtesy photo)

It’s true, this race can be completed by beginners in generally good physical condition. But Jim half jokingly told me not to bother calling in the next six weeks about any adventure races or he’d hang up on me. I think it was the lactic acid talking. Personally I wasn’t sure I would be able to walk for the next six weeks!

Despite the good-natured grumbling though, we both know we’ll be back for next year’s challenge. We’d like to extend a big thanks to GMARA for an exceptional job putting this race together, and to Bolton Valley, whose wondeful terrain and trail system  made for a perfect location.

Editor’s Note: What Brett is too modest to tell you is that Team EasternSlopes.com finished fourth out of 10 teams in their division with an adjusted time of 10:10:18. Congratulations Brett and Jim! For complete results of this year’s race, go here

Max hitchin' a ride.

For our first snowshoe of the season, our two-year old Max (aka “Boonie”) rode in the Ergo backpack carrier, as he has done on so many walks in the woods since he was just a few months old. He has always enjoyed seeing the world from up there, and he’s had a lot of experiences he would not otherwise have had. But things are beginning to change. It’s not just that he’s getting heavy, though he is about 40 pounds and will soon be maxing out the capacity of the carrier . . . if not my back! But he has also begun to realize that he’s missing out on some stuff by being up on Mama’s back. He’s an experimenter, as I guess all kids are, and I try not to curtail his experiments, unless of course they are unsafe. Lately he’s taken to tasting trees. He’ll just walk up to a beech and chomp down on the end of a twig and chew thoughtfully on the bud for a while, as though assessing the vintage. You can’t do these sorts of things when you are strapped to Mama. But although he didn’t seem as intimidated by the first snow this year as he was last year, it did take some getting used to, and then it just kept coming and coming so that while it was a heck of a lot of fun, his short little legs just couldn’t cope. A grownup in this situation who wants to walk in the woods gets herself a pair of snowshoes. But a two-year old?

Can you do this? Max does snow yoga. (Kate Goodin photo)

Max has taught me to be a firm believer in getting “real” stuff. Not only has he made it clear that toy versions of grownup things are not cool, but I’ve realized what a waste of money they are. They are usually barely functional, uncomfortable, and break easily. So when I started investigating snowshoes online, I was at first dismayed at what I found. There are choices, to be sure, but the ones that looked like real snowshoes, i.e. like Mama and Daddy’s, did not look like they’d fit his feet. I guess most folks don’t expect a two-year old to be out snowshoeing on his own two feet.

So we put buying snowshoes on the back burner for a while. Then we went snowshoeing again. Our snowshoes were in the yard already, and while I went in to get the Ergo, Doug stayed outside with Max. I came out to find that not only had Doug put his snowshoes on, but Max had stuffed his feet into MINE and was shuffling around the plowed part of the yard. Hmmm…I decided that perhaps further investigations were in order. Especially after asking, “Max, do you want your OWN snowshoes?” and receiving an emphatic nod of the head and a happy, “Mm-hm!”

Doug’s Mom was due to come up for a visit and looking forward to doing some snowshoeing with us. Doug works at Eastern Mountain Sports and he knew they had a pair of rental snowshoes for kids, so we thought we’d see how they worked for Max. We were still concerned about the bindings fitting his boots. But he’s big for a two-year old, and his feet are bigger still, so I thought they just might work.

He couldn't wait to try them out! (Kate Goodin photo)

The night Doug came home with the snowshoes Max nearly climbed up the front of him to get at them. First he tried to put them on barefoot. Trying to forestall Max until morning, Doug said, “Max, you need BOOTS on to wear snowshoes.” Wrong tactic, Daddy. Max went and got his boots, put them on, and again began stuffing his feet into the bindings. What the heck, I figured. So I got down on my hands and knees and helped him get his boots in place and snugged up the bindings to see if they would fit. Often manufacturers claim they’ve improved bindings by making them easier to put on, especially when they are making something for kids. I figure it’s going to be a few years now before he’s putting his own snowshoes on and I’m not so old I can’t get down on my hands and knees to help. Easier is not always better.

While the bindings did seem to bunch just a tiny bit, they snugged up well enough that his feet didn’t wobble in them. When he started to try walking in them, I threw his jacket on and stuffed some gloves on his hands and we went out into the pitch black. He walked around, pleased as punch, looking up at the stars and the dark silhouettes of the trees against the sky. I don’t know if he could see much after being blinded by the flash of the camera, since proud-Mama had to take pictures, of course. It was cold and neither of us was dressed properly, so we were only out for a few minutes, but we all knew this was the start of something big.

Max strutting his stuff. (Kate Goodin photo)

The next day Max and I went traipsing around in the yard. Then we hopped on the snowmobile trail that cuts across our back field. He was doing great…unfortunately our romp was cut short by a visit from the poop fairy. (We’re in the middle of potty training, still workin’ on it…) Our only real concern with the snowshoes for Max, beyond fit, had been whether he would be thrown off by the need to keep his feet in a wider stance. He really didn’t seem to notice. He even pretty much worked it out by himself when he’d occasionally stand on one shoe with the other. He’d try to move his right foot, realize it was stuck, and move his left instead. Perhaps this flexibility of mind and body is precisely because he is still relatively new at the walking thing. I mean, it really wasn’t all that long ago he was making the same mistakes with just his feet. He took to running in the snowshoes as though it was the most natural thing.

By the time Nona (Doug’s Mom) arrived for her visit, Max was an old hand with the snowshoes. He could walk easily on packed snow in the yard, snowmobile trails, and in powder. We were careful to keep in mind that his stamina is not necessarily what ours is. It’s usually not his body that causes the dragging. Sometimes a two-year old just wants to be carried, whether his legs are tired or not. So when we had an agenda and a goal in mind, we brought the Ergo along. Doug had a daypack with a few extra clothes and when Max said he wanted to ride we took his snowshoes off and strapped them to the pack and strapped Max to my back. Perhaps this is another advantage to starting young. I couldn’t do that with a tired six-year old. (Keep in mind that a kid sitting and riding isn’t going to be producing the same body heat as one romping on snowshoes, so bring an extra layer.)

Max and Nona (Kate Goodin photo)

Max and I had a wonderful walk in the woods the other day. Since we had returned the snowshoes, we were mostly confined to the snowmobile trail where we wouldn’t wallow in the deep snow. We found a mysterious hole, two of them actually, about three inches in diameter. It’s hard to express the joy of watching my little boy lie in the snow, peering down a hole while we wonder what wild thing was here. Then he finds some other amazing, mysterious thing, like a parchment-thin beech leaf stuck in the snow and he points and nods thoughtfully. I look out into the woods and wonder what we might find away from the beaten path.

I miss those snowshoes as much as Max does..

My general advice when looking for gear for your kids, whether it’s snowshoes or hiking gear, or anything for that matter, is to buy the most “real” thing you can find. If you’re not sure they are going to like it, consider renting, or buying used (or do that anyway). Buying toy gear is going to be frustrating for them if they are really interested, and if they are only a little bit interested, equipment that doesn’t really work is certainly not going to help. Unfortunately Tubbs changed the bindings on the Storm snowshoe for kids. I know what we want now, but I’m going to have to search to find a used pair…

Max breaking trail. (Kate Goodin photo)

Tonight at bedtime Max was restless. His teeth are bugging him, but life is so fun, he just doesn’t want to go down. He thrashes and gets himself all wound up. So I lie in bed with him and hold him so tightly he can barely move and keep him calm by talking him through an imaginary walk in the woods. I whisper, “Imagine yourself walking down a path. We’re going to see the frogs’ eggs down the big hill on Eric’s land. Listen…there’s a red squirrel scolding us! ‘Hey you silly thing. We’re only passing through.’ Let’s leave him in peace. Our feet slip in the mud on the hill, and there are new leaves coming out. Do you think there are frogs’ eggs yet? I hear a chickadee, do you? Is that a ruffed grouse drumming? Do you remember the one we saw last year?” I can hear his breathing change as he relaxes and falls asleep. Goodnight, Boonie…

"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!

A vestibule on a winter tent provides a sheltered spot to cook and store extra gear. (Tim Jones photo)

Late winter/early spring is a wonderful time for camping. Only fall is better. My buddy and business partner David Shedd and I recently received some production samples from several manufacturers which absolutely HAD to be tested in snow and cold before they were returned:  two pairs of snowshoes from MSR , a new gas canister stove from Jetboil, two sleeping bags (one from LL Bean rated to 20 degrees, the other from REI rated to 25), a new backpack and an LL Bean  3-person dome tent. An overnight in the White Mountain National Forest, at a backwoods campsite we often use in other seasons but had never visited in winter on a night when the forecasted low was 20 degrees seemed like the perfect chance to test everything.

It had been a l-o-n-g time since I’d done a “cold” winter campout. As I explained in a recent article  article on Warm vs Cold Winter Camping, there’s “warm” winter camping, in which you  have an external heat source such as a campfire or woodstove, and “cold” winter camping where you only carry a cooking stove. I’ve owned a Kifaru Tipi for over 20 years. With woodstove, it weighs about 18 pounds and is a perfect “warm” camping setup.

With this setup available, I’ve gotten out of the habit of “cold” camping. But “cold” winter camping is a lot like three-season backpacking and David and I have done enough of that so a “cold” winter camp was no stretch.

We shouldered our packs for an early start; a good thing. The winter wind and snow had heavily damaged the familiar trail and we spent a lot of time finding ways around fallen trees. Winter trail travel with snowshoes and a pack can be very slow, even on trails that are normally well-maintained in the summer—a fact we learned the hard way a few years ago. We’re careful not to tackle too much trail between the car and the campsite.

A sturdy dome tent like this one from LL Bean is easy to set up, makes a snug shelter for a winter overnight. (Tim Jones photo)

By noon we’d reached the campsite three miles from the car and had the tent up with sleeping gear laid out inside. David had already set the tent  up at home (wise with anything new) so we knew all the parts were there and how it went together.  Trust me, you don’t want to struggle with a new tent in a wilderness campsite in the cold!

Then, we were off through the woods to test snowshoes. With highly variable snow conditions—deep in some spots, crusted in the shade and soft in the sun—we gave them a real workout on flats, steeps and sidehills.  Just walking in the woods in winter on good snowshoes is pure pleasure.

After all that walking, a late afternoon nap seemed a perfect way to test sleeping bags . . . A little later, legs still snugged in the sleeping bags, torsos warmed with puffy jackets and heads kept cozy with hats, we sipped wine and played a game of cribbage. I lost., as usual. Gear notes:  I have a folding neoprene cribbage board that adds almost no weight and very little bulk to a deck of cards. I got it at EMS years ago, they no longer carry it, and if anyone knows a source for these, let me know! On another note, the fingerless fleece Glacier Gloves designed for fishing  are great for playing cards,  cooking  and reading in a winter tent!

Hearty, hot food goes a long way toward keeping you warm in a "cold" winter camp. (Tim Jones photo)

Speaking of tents, the LL Bean Backcountry Dome 3 Tent performed admirably. At $329 it’s about half the price of some similar models from “name” manufacturers. It’s heavy at  almost 11 pounds,  but solid and stable; the 5-pole design should withstand  a heavy snow load, though that will require more testing–it didn’t snow while we were out, darn it!. The dome design  pitched easily with color-coded, shock-corded poles and well designed clips. Rated as a 3-person, it was luxurious for two, would fit three snugly. The extended vestibule provided protected cooking space and gear storage, yet zipped wide open on both sides for easy access.  Good venting, good zippers, a full coverage fly, interior pockets, peak clip for hanging an led lantern, even a clothes line. The clips which hold the tent body to the poles were stiff and uncooperative with cold. mittened hands on a cold morning, so we just popped the pole ends out of the retaining grommets and slid the poles out instead of unclipping them. Workable solution to a very minor problem. Overall, this is a solid rendering of the classic  dome tent design very  functional and a terrific winter tent for the price.

A mug of hot tea before you get out of your sleeping bag on a chilly winter morning, makes getting up that much more pleasant. (David Shedd photo)

Stew for supper heated quickly (a little too quickly, some of it burned–still tasted wonderful!) on the new stove. To see a full review of how it performed, go here. Then it was time to head out for a last look at the millions of stars overhead before giving the sleeping bags a more serious test through the 20-degree night. You can read the results of this test here.

No doubt about it, getting up in the morning is tougher in a cold camp without that woodstove to warm things up. But we had the Helios stove set up in the tent vestibule and enjoyed  hot tea and a light breakfast while we were still in the sleeping bags. That makes getting up a lot easier.

Once moving, it took us less than an hour to break camp and hit the trail. With “cold” winter camping you can be on the move almost as quickly as  you could in the summertime.  By mid morning we were enjoying a second breakfast in a café.

They call it “cold” camping, but if you do it right with the right equipment, it isn’t . . .  Try it yourself sometime.

Cold Comfort! A woodstove keeps Matt Marean warm as he packs up his gear after having survived his first night ever in a backpacking tent camp. (David Shedd photo)

My young friend Matt clearly needed a little time away from his parents. So my buddy David and I invited him on his first-ever backpacking trip. Sleeping out in a tent in the middle of winter with a couple of feet of snow on the ground expands your horizons and teaches you some valuable lessons—whether you recognize them at the time or not.

David walked Matt through the whole packing process, showing him what he needed and why. He let Matt pack his own pack—leaving room for common gear and food. Lesson: we are all essentially responsible for ourselves and we all need to carry our fair share.

We met for a HUGE breakfast. Like many teenagers, Matt wakes up reluctantly; his appetite wakes even later. I think he was stunned by the amount of food David and I ate so early in the morning. But calories you eat before you leave the trailhead are calories you don’t have to carry in your pack. Lesson: Sometimes, long-term benefits outweigh immediate desires.

At the trailhead, we shouldered our packs, strapped on snowshoes and headed out. Matt’s bindings gave him trouble so we stopped to readjust. Lesson: We all stick together and help as needed.

Many hands make light work! Matt and David pitch in to clear away two feet of snow from a spot to pitch their winter tent. (Tim Jones photo)

Our planned hike wasn’t long—a lesson David and I learned the hard way—and we all took turns breaking trail in the deep snow. When we arrived at the campsite, we all grabbed shovels to dig out the tent site and firepit. Then we set up the tipi, gathered firewood and got the necessary camp chores done. Matt took the initiative when he saw something that needed doing, and took direction when necessary. Lesson: First things first; if everyone pitches in, chores get done.

After lunch, I set up the woodstove and finished camp chores, while Matt and David took a hike to see some scenery. Lesson: Leave time for fun. I encountered a problem with the stovepipe that we eventually solved: Lesson: use your head(s) and don’t give up.

Warmth in the wilderness. With plenty of firewood and steaks to cook, David Shedd and Matt Marean can enjoy a warm refuge on a chilly winter backpacking trip. (Tim Jones photo)

Our evening was spent dreaming the campfire, cooking steaks, talking topics as large as our place in the universe (a natural topic with infinite stars overhead) and as small as how to keep a campfire going. I don’t know that any of us learned anything profound—but I don’t know that we didn’t, either. It was the kind of free-flowing conversation punctuated by natural silences that people can share when they aren’t bombarded by constant artificial images and noise. Lesson: sometimes it’s OK to just be in the moment.

David and I both slept well, cozy and relaxed in a familiar setting. Lesson: trust your gear. As always, we woke up occasionally, listened to the wind in the trees and went right back to sleep. Matt admitted he had trouble sleeping. He wasn’t cold as much as afraid of being cold. That’s not uncommon for new campers. Lesson: sometimes you just have to get through a bad night to reach a new day.

In the morning, the woodstove kept us toasty warm as we ate breakfast and dressed. Then we packed up, put on our snowshoes and hiked out. Matt took the lead and we urged him to range ahead and follow the trail on his own . . . If Matt learned any lessons from his moments alone, he didn’t say.

David and I are planning another winter overnight soon. We’re hoping Matt can join us. Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!

Lessons  Learned Outdoors

I honestly can’t tell you if Matt learned anything from his quick overnight adventure with one man who is old enough to be his grandfather (that would be me) and one who is seriously involved with his mother and therefore a father figure by default. We tried to share a lot with him in a very short time.

I suspect he did learn, but it may take time for those lessons to become clear. That’s the way we all learn.

I can’t even begin to tell you all the lessons I’ve  learned from being outdoors over the years; Lessons about what’s really valuable. Lessons about what’s really necessary and what isn’t, about being alone and working with other people, who you can trust, who you can’t and what friendship really means. Lessons about planning and preparing, about  making good decisions and sticking to them, or about changing direction when circumstances changed, and about backing out when going forward would be foolhardy. Lessons about thinking my way out of trouble when trouble unexpectedly came to find me.

And that’s the big stuff. There were also simple little lessons about how good it feels to use your body the way it was designed to be used, how to take care of yourself day to day.

I know there are venues for learning life lessons other than getting active outdoors. But getting outdoors and doing things is so much fun! And it’s so easy and natural to learn in little steps along the way.

It takes one step at a time to travel a long trail, and life is a very long trail. Spending time outdoors is a natural learning process. Learn as you go from any source you can, and live your life as if it wasn’t a spectator sport.

Gearing Up

No one should ever use “I don’t have the stuff I need,” as an excuse for not doing something active outdoors. Not in this day in age. David and I had enough spare gear between us to outfit Matt. If we hadn’t, we could have rented what we needed.

Every cross-country ski area rents skis and most rent snowshoes. There’s a comprehensive list of resorts at the Cross Country Ski Areas Association (www.xcski.org) and you can get lessons as well. When summer comes, kayaks and bikes are easy to rent

If you have an EMS or REI store nearby, both rent excellent camping and mountaineering equipment at very reasonable prices.

There are also on-line sources for longer-term rentals at (www.lowergear.com) and (www.gogitto.com). They’ll ship whatever you need to your door. I’ve never used either of these so can’t recommend from personal experience but the websites look professional, the gear they are offering is proven, and the concept looks legitimate.

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.

A tent with a woodstove! Winter backpacking is an adventure. The woodstove makes for warm evenings, but you still have to be prepared to play and sleep in the cold. (Tim Jones photo)

Many people go backpacking in the summer, some in the spring and fall, far fewer through the winter. That’s a shame because winter offers instant adventure to anyone bold enough to set up a tent or build a snow shelter and spend the night outdoors. There aren’t any bugs, it rarely rains. You enjoy quiet and solitude that you simply can’t find at other times of year. With modern camping gear, sleeping cozy, even in bitter cold, is not difficult. In fact, its part of the fun.

There are two types of winter camping: cold camping and warm camping. They aren’t as different as they might sound. . . .

Cold camping means camping without a heat source, relying on a tent or tarp to shelter you from wind and falling or drifting snow, and warm clothes and a good sleeping bag to keep you comfortable. Though “cold camping” doesn’t sound all that appealing, you can be surprisingly comfortable in a “cold” camp.

The big advantage of cold camping is that your pack is lighter and you are more mobile. Almost any trail you’d backpack on in the summer is fair game for a winter cold camping trek. With a free-standing tent, it’s easy to travel on snowshoes or skis, reach your destination and, an hour later, be well fed and snug in your sleeping bag for the night. The only moment of potential discomfort unique to cold camping is hauling yourself out of that cozy sleeping bag in the morning and breaking camp. But, if you planned it right, you’ve already had something warm and comforting to eat and drink before you have to get up and get dressed for the day.

If you can find sufficient firewood, a campfire can make for a warm evening in camp. (Tim Jones photo)

Warm winter camping is something of a misnomer, since it isn’t warm all the time. You spend your days and nights in the same cold as cold campers. Typically, the only warm in warm winter camping is in the evenings  and perhaps again in the morning when you are awake and in camp to tend to some sort heat source. That heat source might be a campfire in front of a tarp shelter, a woodstove inside a tent or even a candle lantern inside a snow cave or snow shelter—which can be surprisingly cozy. It would seem that gas-fueled catalytic heaters would be ideal inside a tent, but I’ve never found a stove/fuel combo that’s light and efficient enough to carry backpacking.

The advantage of warm camping is obvious—you aren’t confined to your sleeping bag when you aren’t moving. You get to dress and undress, eat and relax in a warmed space.

Warm camping also has its disadvantages. Warm setups are usually—but not always— heavier than cold camping. And it usually takes a lot more time to set up a tarp-and-campfire site or a woodstove-heated tent or to build a snow shelter than it does to pop up a free-standing tent. Then there’s the time and effort it takes to find wood for a campfire or stove—not always easy when the snow is deep.

A woodstove in a lightweight tent keeps you cozy on a long winter evening, lets you do camp chores in your shirtsleeves. (David Shedd photo)

Warm camping works better when you spend more than one night at a campsite rather than moving camp every day.  A warm camp is perfect for a long weekend. Pack in and set up camp your first day, leaving plenty of time to find wood if needed. The following days you can explore out from there, knowing you can return to a snug haven.

Warm or cold, winter camping is something everyone should try at least twice. Why twice? Because the second try is almost always easier and more fun than the first. Life isn’t a spectator sport. Get out and enjoy!

The Most Common Mistakes

Warm or Cold, here are the most common mistakes winter campers make (I speak from experience—I’ve made them all . . .)

Mistake 1: Insufficient planning. Think carefully about every item of gear you take. Then make sure you take it! Unless you are super-organized, chances are you are going to forget something. Forgetting something important in the summer is inconvenient; in winter it can mean BIG trouble! Make a very detailed checklist and keep it handy. If you don’t have a checklist started, write to me and I’ll send you one, or you can go to EasternSlopes.com and search “checklist”.

Mistake 2: Overextending. Until you are experienced at winter camping, don’t try to go too far. Travel on snow is almost always slower and more arduous than on bare ground. It also takes longer to set up a camp on snow. So until you know what you can do, deliberately choose to go shorter rather than longer. On an untracked trail, three miles is about my personal limit.

Mistake 3: Not eating and drinking enough. Food is heavy to carry, often more difficult to prepare in cold weather. Water is hard to find and often freezes in winter–and getting up to pee in the night isn’t a lot of fun. So it’s tempting to eat and drink less than you need. Force yourself to eat high calorie foods and drink water (not alcohol or sugary drinks) constantly. The more solid fuel in your furnace and the more hydrated you are, the better your whole body will function in the cold.

Mistake 4: Not getting out.  This is the worst mistake of all. Winter camping is fun, healthy, great exercise. Put on your pack and your snowshoes and try  it.

Do It!

My buddy David and I just took a young man named Matt on his first-ever backpacking trip—an overnight hike on snowshoes, sleeping in my tipi. Matt’s mother was a bit worried, I think, that we were trying to kill her precious offspring. We weren’t. Matt did just fine. We all had fun saw some beautiful woodlands in winter and  left the stresses of everyday far behind.

It only snowed a little and it didn’t get very cold (10-degrees) so we didn’t have quite as much fun as we could have . . . I’ll tell you about our adventure in a future column. In the meantime, if you have any questions about winter camping, drop me a note.