This weekend I decided to go for a hike in Shingletown. We recently had a batch of storms bringing rain mixed with sleet and ice. This was followed by a dusting of snow so a healthy layer of frozen white stuff covered all the trails. It was cold but the sun was out so I decided a quick trip up to the ridge would be a good afternoon activity.
When I arrived at the trailhead I discovered the crust was a little heavier than I anticipated so I embarked on my journey with cautious optimism. For the most part, the snow was s
olid. My footing was a little sketchy in some spots as I was having trouble breaking through the top level of wintry goodness; however I decided to press on and continue my solo trek through the woods.
As I got further into the wilderness I noticed the ground under foot was getting steeper. The grade of the trails coupled with the near hockey rink conditions had me second-guessing my decision to reach the ridge. While I contemplated continuing on or turning back I heard something crashing through the brush not far from where I stood. Suddenly the largest dog I’ve ever seen appeared on the trail about twenty yards behind me. It was at that moment I realized it wasn’t a dog at all, but a bear.
Okay that last part didn’t really happen. I’m glad it didn’t because the hike (and I use the term loosely) back to my car was treacherous enough without being pursued by a large fuzzy pile of claws and teeth. As I slid uncontrollably down the trail it became blatantly obvious I was not hiking. Instead it was more akin to surviving.
After about twenty minutes of continuous sliding interlaced with bouts of tree grabbing to slow my decent (my boots didn’t come with breaks) I came to rest near the creek. The ground finally leveled off and I was able to resume my hike. Maybe next time I’ll take skates, just to be safe.
When I arrived at the trailhead I discovered the crust was a little heavier than I anticipated so I embarked on my journey with cautious optimism. For the most part, the snow was s
olid. My footing was a little sketchy in some spots as I was having trouble breaking through the top level of wintry goodness; however I decided to press on and continue my solo trek through the woods.As I got further into the wilderness I noticed the ground under foot was getting steeper. The grade of the trails coupled with the near hockey rink conditions had me second-guessing my decision to reach the ridge. While I contemplated continuing on or turning back I heard something crashing through the brush not far from where I stood. Suddenly the largest dog I’ve ever seen appeared on the trail about twenty yards behind me. It was at that moment I realized it wasn’t a dog at all, but a bear.
Okay that last part didn’t really happen. I’m glad it didn’t because the hike (and I use the term loosely) back to my car was treacherous enough without being pursued by a large fuzzy pile of claws and teeth. As I slid uncontrollably down the trail it became blatantly obvious I was not hiking. Instead it was more akin to surviving.
After about twenty minutes of continuous sliding interlaced with bouts of tree grabbing to slow my decent (my boots didn’t come with breaks) I came to rest near the creek. The ground finally leveled off and I was able to resume my hike. Maybe next time I’ll take skates, just to be safe.
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