JK about Last Ski on March 13th--Good Friday Ski Today!

The dike covered in new snow

I woke up at 4:30am because it seemed lighter out. When I looked out the window, I saw there were several inches of new snow! I did go back to sleep, but as soon as I woke up again, I got dressed for skiing and went outside. It was about 14 degrees F above zero and NO WIND.

A close-up of the new snow on the dike. 

It. was. magical. Fluffy powder that had accumulated on the west side of the dike, flowed around my legs mid-calf, as I kicked up to the top. It was still cloudy out from the departing winter storm, but a few rays of sunlight reflected on the new snow crystals and sparkled back at me. As I descended down the dike, I delighted in the floaty feeling of gliding that I thought I wouldn't feel again for several months. What a treat! And a day off work, so I didn't have to rush through this wonderful experience.

I took time to take photos of the new snow. I love the blankness of it. No one else had been out yet, and the possibilities seem so exciting. What kind of ski would this be? It didn't matter at all because it is a bonus ski--I really thought that when I left for Kansas City on March 13th, I would not be skiing again this season. I like the untracked snow just as I love the blank page. I know a lot of people don't like staring at a blank page, but I do. I like the newness, the potential. Anything could happen...

More untracked snow. But this is different. 

Like today--I was startled by the honking of a flock of geese wheeling above me. On the surface, this looks like another white, wintry day, but it's not--this is just a temporary covering on what is really spring. There were lots of little reminders of this, not just the big, loud reminders like the honking geese. For example, look in the top right corner of the photo above, and you will see a barely covered puddle. It didn't get *that* cold last night, so I doubt it's really frozen. I wouldn't ski across it.

Another little reminder, every time I planted a ski pole, I could feel a little give to the ground under the snow--it's not frozen hard anymore. And in a couple of spots, a frozen puddle gave way under my ski. Once there was water underneath, and I had to stop and clear off the clump of snow that immediately collected on the wetness.

Canadian Geese taking a break in the Red River of the North

I heard new bird calls--the woods are filling up. Also, the light is different--the sun is up early and rises in a different spot on the horizon. The river is flowing in the open spots, and it has flooded some of the lower areas near the river already. So, despite looking a lot like any other winter day, this really was a spring ski.

When I got home, I encouraged Enrico to go out skiing right away, while the snow lasted. When he came back, I had a big brunch ready for him and Max and our neighbors. After brunch, I tried going out again with Noko, but the magic was already gone--I couldn't glide at all without snow clumping up on the bottom of my skis, and each stride completely denuded the track of snow, leaving a muddy strip behind. I took off my skis and walked home with the dog, both a little glum, squinting as the now bright sun reflected off the rapidly melting snow.