The anticipation of a nine mile x-country ski in to a remote cabin was enough to cause their minds to swell with a steady diet of euphoric calories. Yet, what really needs to be stressed is the case of Olympia beer sitting on the back seat not long enough to even get warm. Heading up Highway 61 along Lake Superior, they drove without heat in order to acclimate their bodies and minds to the adventure awaiting.
In the wee hours they pulled off the unplowed rural road at the trail head and tried to sleep. This came after wrestling in the snow and celebrating the unbelievable clear winter night sky. They awoke to bitter cold and a new snowstorm that would not let up for the next two days. They would see the beginning and the conclusion of 54” of snow during that duration. They had two beers left and drank them down to celebrate, and then headed down the trail on skis, with snow shoes strapped to their packs, which would later prove essential.
Forget that the snow accumulated to knee deep so quickly hampering progress, or that their water ran short trying to stifle their unplanned dehydration, the real eye opener came when he lost control on a wooded slope and tumbled and slid like a pinball, wacked back and forth by small Aspen trees, to a final resting spot in the darkened woods. Yes, it was now late afternoon, and the winds picked up and the sun had left for the next time zone west. It was dark alright, and they were five miles in, and five miles from safe retreat.To be continued…..
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