Does Every Full Moon Suffice

does every full moon suffice

2 Outings, 2 Outcomes « Get Out In Guysborough County

Essential supplies

My morning has been hijacked by the discovery of a blog I couldn't resist looking through. A 'like' on a recent cycling post was left by All Seasons Cyclist. I don't have time to check out everyone who clicks a like but I couldn't resist this one since their username obviously suggested someone interested in cycling throughout the year. He's in Michigan writing about gear he uses and mostly likes: All Seasons Cyclist. I love coming across information like this. I do not have a local shop where I can go for help nor are there (m)any others in the local area experimenting with all year cycling. I tend to distrust much of what passes for information in magazines since so-called reviews are little more than highly biased advertising.

Yesterday I was on my skis twice. First, I drove out to Ogden for a quick jaunt on the TCT and then last night I opted for skiing (instead of cycling) on Donahue Lake.

In Ogden I had enough room to pull completely off the main paved road so I simply parked on the side of the road where the TCT crosses near the bridge over Salmon River. I intended to allocate my time in three segments: ski, tea, ski back. I proceeded north. A snowmobile track compressed the snow which meant I wasn't breaking trail but it also meant my skis were often swimming around rather than tracking nice and straight the way I'd prefer. Generally there wasn't quite enough snow. Along exposed portions I found a lot of bull rushes poking up which would bring one ski or the other to an abrupt halt as I passed. The air temperature, however, was perfect, somewhere slightly above zero out of the breeze.

After covering a few kilometers I decided I would stop for tea. I intend to incorporate more stillness into my outdoor activity. I know that sounds paradoxical but I think too much emphasis is placed on doing, as opposed to being, I think physical health is important but what good is being physically strong if your mind/heart is not also in good condition?

I don't profess to have a ritualized ceremony for the drinking of tea. I think inserting a deliberate and conscious pause in my activity is what is important. In winter a comfy seat is worthwhile but by no means essential. Anything to keep you dry and insulated from the ground or snow will suffice. If you like coffee drink coffee, anything warm in winter. I prefer tea.

The river parallels the old rail bed but isn't always close at hand. Where I stopped the water churned along only a few meters from me. Unfortunately those few meters were vertical and too steep and slippery for me to negotiate while wearing ski boots. I could see it and hear it, which was nice, but I would have been even happier to have gotten right down beside it. Picking a 'special' place to sit is optional. I like vistas as much as anyone but nearly any place will do. When it is cold and windy a spot sheltered from the wind is essential.

Tea asana

Normally I would like to stay seated for twenty minutes, perhaps half an hour. When trying to produce a blog the scenario is a little more complex. A blog demands photos. To create a photo of me sitting to illustrate the entry I actually don't end up sitting very much. For this particular occasion I set up the tripod and camera, positioned it, hit the twenty second timer, dashed to the seat, picked up my mug and 'posed'. I did this about ten times and produced 9.5 duds. When I finally gave up I did drink my tea but made the discovery that tea can remain hot on the top and cool dramatically on the bottom if the mug has been sitting in snow. Who knew?

To complete the journey I had to return to the car, obviously, and I made another discovery. While skiing at first I was a bit frustrated that I wasn't getting the greatest glide in the world. I blamed it on not having the proper wax. On the way back the world looked completely different: there was a downhill grade. What a revelation! Of course this makes sense (rivers always run downhill) but I hadn't realized it. Returning to the car was great. Except for the lurching halts caused by bull rushes I could have been mistaken for someone training as a member of the Norwegian Olympic Team.

Outing number two certainly had a different outcome. I was a bit bummed about the cloudy conditions. A full moon you can't see isn't very impressive. Still, the point of skiing at night is mostly to ski and to get some exercise, not gawk around. So I set off. I followed the road that goes past my house to my neighbor's, cut across his lawn and onto the lake. I was breaking trail but moving OK. I covered about 100 meters then to my right I noticed a dark spot. Upon investigated this dark spot turned out to be a hole filled with water. I poked my pole in it but it didn't seem as if it went all the way through the ice. Curious, I thought, for there to be open water…then as I tried to leave my skis felt as if glue had been applied.

I turned around and I could see my tracks had darkened. Water had leeched up. The warm conditions must have caused melting through the day and left water in liquid form sandwiched beneath the snow.

Well, that was the end of that. The bottom of my skis were completely iced. It took me ten minutes to scrape it off using the bucket on one of my ski poles. I returned to the house, changed my boots and went for a walk instead. The walk was fine.

notebook

2012年2月11日土曜日

Does Every Full Moon Suffice