Moonlight Skiing
When Aunt Shirley got the skiing call from a friend, I hopped in the other car and followed suit - the conditions tonight were great, and I pretty much had to do the whole eight because it would have been a shame otherwise. The moon was nearly full, and I did the entire trail without my light, turning it on only to change podcasts (from Prime Time Sports to Quirks and Quarks) on my MP3 player.
I'm darn glad I had those podcasts to keep my mind satiated, because those moonlit snowy woods have a way of working on your imagination! I found myself wondering more than once what would happen if a few coyotes decided I looked appetizing. I was utterly alone on the trail; Shirley and her friends had a twenty-minute head start, so they were probably outside my screaming range.
Also, going down the gentle but curvy slopes with only the light of the poor made me wonder what might happen if I broke a leg. I had my cell phone, but there were no roads nearby, so what good would an ambulance be? Would I have to drag myself back to the lodge on my belly, or hop on one foot if I still had a good leg? (I guess I could have used one of the ski poles to support myself on such a journey.) But Aunt Shirley reassured me afterwards that they'd have been able to dispatch a snowmobile ASAP. I never even thought of that. This whole area right now is Snowmobile Heaven, and the Souris spur of the Confederation Trail that's given over to snowmobilers in the winter months runs adjacent to the ski trails. So I guess next time I won't worry quite so much.
I'm darn glad I had those podcasts to keep my mind satiated, because those moonlit snowy woods have a way of working on your imagination! I found myself wondering more than once what would happen if a few coyotes decided I looked appetizing. I was utterly alone on the trail; Shirley and her friends had a twenty-minute head start, so they were probably outside my screaming range.
Also, going down the gentle but curvy slopes with only the light of the poor made me wonder what might happen if I broke a leg. I had my cell phone, but there were no roads nearby, so what good would an ambulance be? Would I have to drag myself back to the lodge on my belly, or hop on one foot if I still had a good leg? (I guess I could have used one of the ski poles to support myself on such a journey.) But Aunt Shirley reassured me afterwards that they'd have been able to dispatch a snowmobile ASAP. I never even thought of that. This whole area right now is Snowmobile Heaven, and the Souris spur of the Confederation Trail that's given over to snowmobilers in the winter months runs adjacent to the ski trails. So I guess next time I won't worry quite so much.