When I told all my friends and family I was moving to New Hampshire to serve with a conservation corps, ninety percent of the responses I received were, “Why would you do that? You know it’s cold up there, right? Like, really cold!” Their responses did not surprise me because they knew me all too well. If you were to ask me what my favorite season is and why my response would be, “Summer. I love the sun, and I love laying in the ninety-degree heat like a reptile. I love to be outside, so I’d rather drip in sweat than shiver and lose feeling in my toes.”
In fact, although snow is not foreign to me, at the time I didn’t even have winter gear except for a long down jacket to walk to my car. I enjoyed peering at the snow from the warmth of my house, with a cup of hot coffee, a heated blanket, and probably a space heater running too (energy efficient who?). It was not long before I thought “okay, I’ve had enough now. Please melt.”
A year ago, I could not imagine myself hiking through heavy snow on a flat, one-mile trail, let alone trail maintenance, carrying loppers in one hand, a handsaw in the other, and lugging a heavy pack full of layers, food, and emergency gear.
Today I feel proud and strong (and still a little reluctant, not gonna lie) when I open the door to the SLA van and step foot on the snowy ground at the trailhead. I am fully prepared. I am dressed in layers: thermal base layers, waterproof and wind-resistant pants, fleece, a work jacket, two pairs of wool socks, a hat, a neck buff, and gloves. In my pack, I have my rain pants and jacket, a down jacket, extra gloves, socks, and hand warmers just in case. I have food, a first aid kit, a map, extra water, and microspikes. I know I will stay warm and safe, and I am strong enough to keep going even when I want to turn around.
As I start hiking up the trail, sawing blowdowns and lopping impeding branches along the way, I find myself surprised every time because I am sweating. It’s cold, I should expect the elements to take me at any moment, but I have to strip down from my jacket to just a fleece to keep myself from sweating. The second I stop work to wait for a crewmate or to take a drink of water, the cold seeps into my core and I am reminded it is indeed below-freezing outside. I put my jacket back on and continue on the trail for five minutes and then take my jacket back off. It’s never-ending: I’m cold, jacket on. I’m hot, jacket off. Oh, snap, it’s cold, jacket on. Repeat until I am off the trail.
The snow still has me beat in some areas like “why are my feet numb when the rest of me is sweating and I have three pairs of socks and insulated boots on” and “why does it feel like it takes double the time to lop a single tree branch?”
The biggest weapon to combat winter, though, is not the gear, but the friends you have with you. Talking and laughing with your crewmates while simultaneously slipping on ice, makes you forget that your feet are numb and your pack is heavy. I learned about this weapon on my most recent trail work experience with my new crewmates, Freda and Stella. We hiked and lopped tree branches and shrubs on the Eastman Brook trail. We still had two hours to go before the end of our trail day, so we continued up the Doublehead trail.
The elevation was exponential: the incline was slow until it felt like we were rock climbing. When we got to a point where we had to turn around to make it back to the trailhead on time, we only had about 0.3 miles until we reached the summit. We were all feeling fatigued, but we were so close to the end, so we looked at each other knowing we needed to keep going.
The last 0.1 mile was the steepest point, we were scrambling up rocks, still lopping and sawing on the way. As we could see more and more blue sky peeping through the trees, we simultaneously increased our pace, excitement radiating off one another. The view at the top was surreal: the sky was so blue, the sun radiated and warmed our skin, the lake displayed growing patches of snow-covered ice, the white snow glittering the surrounding mountains.
We were an hour and a half late back to the trailhead, but the view at the top of Doublehead made our winter trail maintenance worth the labor and reminded me that winter, although I am a summer girl, is important for the health of our environment. I am here to serve at Squam Lakes to conserve the watershed and to protect wildlife, so I will embrace the winter because I know it is a necessary part of the climate and local environment’s health. Bring on the snow, New Hampshire!
Shannon is a full-timer at the Squam Lakes Association. In her free time, you might find her baking new gluten free treats, or setting new personal records in the gym. Learn more about Shannon here!