The Coldfoot Ski Team, as we jokingly refer to ourselves, drove up the road to Marion Creek the other day. Dan generously plowed a path through the untouched snow with his wide, skins-on backcountry skis for me and Abby to follow. We wound up the valley, which afforded broad, open vistas. It was clear and the blue dusk hung on for hours as we glided over and around sugar-snow mounds and hillsides in the sharp -25F afternoon.
We also took advantage of the moonlight last week to night ski without headlamps. You could see individual dark trees etched on the sides of the mountains, race your shadow cast on the snow beside you, and scan the distance for the makers of myriad animal tracks crisscrossing our trail and disappearing again into the woods.
A group of us managed to squeeze sixteen feet of spruce into the cafe and decorate it as our Christmas tree. It is festooned with intricately cut paper snowflakes. The thirsty fellow drinks a few gallons of water a day, and we hope he can hang on to his needles through the end of December.
I missed Antarctica and re-watched Frozen Planet for the tenth time. But then I went to the kitchen and cut up a bunch of fresh vegetables, got a bowl of homemade caribou curry, and admired my friend's marinating ahi tuna. Being able to cook and eat a delicious variety of foods that were not frozen for eight years and/or graded "For Institutional Use Only" is pretty nice. I was even encouraged to request fancy cheese on our weekly food order. Oh, and Will -- we grew our own alfalfa sprouts, openly, without breaking an international treaty.
No comments:
Post a Comment