The Great Escape

After a bizarre few weeks of winter involving continuous heavy snowfalls, neverending fog, dangerous snowpacks, and temperature inversions, it took me a lot longer than I would have liked to get up into the mountains this season. Coming off of the back of an almost spring like spell of weather, temperatures have finally begun to moderate, and I could see from my window over the last few days that the mountains were once again nicely white on the trees. With fresh snow having fallen over the previous two or more nights, I awoke this morning with an uncontrollable urge to finally get myself up into the mountains this winter. It was partly sunny, the mountains were visible, the forecast was one of clearing skies as the day progressed, but that it would stay at or below freezing at my favourite local mountain. So the decision was made, and the necessary gear and supplies were packed. Unsurprisingly, Mother Nature had something to say, and clouded the skies over and made the mountains disappear once more. However, it was too late to have a change of heart; my mind was set.
On the way there, some breaks in the cloud were evident, but even as I made my way up the mountain, varying severities of fog made me wonder just how worthwhile the trip would become. Now don't get me wrong; I love winter fog and snow, and I would still thoroughly enjoy it if that was the dice the weather were to roll. But I wanted to be able to admire the views; if not down to sea level, at least across to neighbouring peaks. I wanted to snowshoe, and without my own snowshoes, and being on a budget, getting up into the mountains and engaging in winter sports is not a luxury I can afford much this season. Fortunately, when I arrived at the winter sports area, the fog had lifted and there were just a few hanging clouds over some of the surrounding summits despite the overcast skies. The ravens brazenly wandered around, majestic birds that they are, only reinforcing my appreciation of them. Magnificent creatures, so striking, so graceful. Like eagles they have a presence that you cannot fail to be captured by.
I rented my snowshoes, and promptly changed them for another pair as one of the clips was broken. Then it was time to set off on the snowshoe trails; initially, there was a large group of children with some adults coming back, making me think that these trails are going to be busy. I was wrong. For over an hour afterwards, I did not see anyone else. Perfect. Absolutely perfect. When I want to explore nature, I don't want to see anyone else around. At all. I'm not there to make friends, to exchange pleasantries; I'm there to be at one with my surroundings, to be encapsulated by them, to forget the worries and stresses of everyday life. I was blessed today to have such fortune. It was a day I really needed.
The obligatory, and always thoroughly enjoyable, beer up in the mountains after exploring was enjoyed. Twice. Not the best beer around, but today it didn't matter. The memories, the homage to similar explorations in Norway, Poland, and Slovenia; that was what having the beer was about. The service was terrible, but then it so often is in such locations. As it happens, that played into my hands, as an unexpected sunset bathed the mountain hemlock, amabilis fir, and yellow cedar trees in a magical orange light, to bring the perfect closure to the most wonderful day I have experienced for some time. And to think: such a day would not have been possible in the part of the world in which I used to live.