Going outside in the winter is not a foreign concept to me. I grew up in Minnesota and went to school in various other Midwestern states. I skied competitively in high school and walked to class uphill both ways during snowstorms ;) . I’ve routinely shoveled out my car from snowdrifts and I’ve fallen because of ice too many times to count. It’s not so different out here in New Hampshire; from ice skating to ice climbing, New Hampshire definitely knows how to do winter.
Personally, I’ve been enjoying winter by snowshoeing and winter hiking. Winter hiking certainly requires a lot more thinking compared to the other seasons. Is the trail going to be packed? Will it be fresh powder, slush, or sheer ice? Microspikes or snowshoes or both or none of the above? Is the trailhead maintained for parking (because it’s the worst seeing a trail you might like and driving out to it and realizing a little Honda Accord is not going to even make it into the parking lot)? And a recent question, will you step slightly off trail in a perfect place for a posthole and sink down to your hip putting you level with the cute dog barreling toward you? I mean, All Trails can only answer so many questions.
It’s fun to be able to see animal tracks and find the corridors that different creatures favor when I’ve been out and about even just on the trails behind the house. While I consider myself to be a star turkey track identifier, it can be tricky to identify who left prints behind are, especially when conditions aren’t in your favor. I know the animals were there, I just don’t know who left the tracks. GMCG has offered a couple animal tracking programs that have been a good learning experience for me. The fact that there people can identify a gray squirrel’s tracks versus a red squirrel’s tracks is impressive. I’m just proud of myself when I can tell it’s a squirrel. I also did not realize that tracking is more than just looking for prints. Trackers look at the trees for clues, such as a tiny piece of hair or a slight scratch that might indicate who has been roaming around.
The thing is that when I see tracks, I then get the urge to see the animal and that’s a whole different ball game. It requires extreme patience and the ability to stay quiet and still (and a whole lotta luck) which are not traits I possess like one would think since I enjoy golfing.
I am well aware of how loud I can be, but the extent of my loudness never quite registered until I actually attempted to be quiet. In my mind, all I had to do to be quiet was to not talk. Quietness is actually quite a difficult thing to achieve. I have become hyper aware of the sounds my clothes make. Winter clothes certainly keep you warm, but are not made of the quietest materials. Plus, for as much as snow falls quietly and muffles the sounds of landscape, it can be pretty darn loud. Throw a thin layer of ice on top of the snow and you might as well be sounding an alarm that says “HUMAN ALERT.” There’s a bench at the end of the GMCG trail that I like to “sit” on by guessing the location and sitting on the snow burying it, and I noisily make my way back there, probably disturbing some critters taking an afternoon snooze. But once I settle in, and am deliberate about being still and quiet, the birds start peeping again, and I can spot squirrels dashing through the snow.
All in all, the New Hampshire winter has been an adventure.
Caitlin likes to ice skate both inside and outside, but cannot stop very well. She just keeps going around in circles until it’s time to run into the boards or snow bank. Learn more about Caitlin here!