Walking in a Christmas Card

Today we delighted in the most beautiful scenery we have witnessed so far. Instead of tearing through the mountains on snowmobiles at fifty miles an hour, we took a gentle ride into the mountains on a dog sled. Quietly we traveled at 10 miles per hour behind twelve of the most glee-filled creatures, skirting canyons, following frozen rivers and even brushing the snow off heavily laden aspens with our goggled faces. The changes in the light were magical. In the shadow of the mountains, when a dark cloud shaded the snow carpeted forest, I thought that God would appear. When the shadows were past and the sunlight beat against majestic peaks gleaming with snow the brilliance literally burned the eyes. Could heaven be more lovely? Looking at the snow that had collected on a forest of lodge pole pines I was reminded of the most elegant Christmas cards I can recall. But instead of blue and gold ribbons on the card, the blues and golds came from the very light itself, bouncing off from mountains and filtering through the branches. The blues came from a cobalt sky one could glimpse between the boughs. It was a wonderland. And we were not simply looking at it—we were walking in it. For moments at a time when the wind died down there was absolute, total silence. Christy, our guide, served us hot chocolate, delicious chili, and a big poppy seed muffin. After lunch we zipped up, goggled up and mittened up as we faced the western wind for the trip home. The dogs became more lively as they approached the ranch, knowing that the end of the journey was near. We picked up our trash and left nothing inside that snowy forest except footprints that will soon disappear. However, the forest left something inside of us that we will carry forever.

Glenda’s Snow reflections:

NC snow and Wyoming snow are very different. In most of the places we have visited, the snow is fine, powdery, and dry. They call it sugar snow. It is not snowman or snowball snow because it will not hold together. Currently the snow in the national parks and forests here is at least 4 feet deep. When you step on virgin snow your foot will sink about a foot but if you step in a place where someone has stepped before and packed down the snow, you may be fine or you may hit what they call breakthrough snow and then your foot will go down 3 feet or more. When one leg is buried in 3 feet of snow and the other is not, life can get interesting . If you put your hands down to try to push yourself up, your hands sink down and life gets even more interesting.

So......while the dog sledding day was fabulous, I had some interesting moments. Anyone who know me well knows that I can be a klutz. I do keep Chuck’s life interesting but, bless him, he always comes to my rescue.

Klutz moment 1:

When we got ready to get on our dog sleds, our guide saw Chuck with his big camera and said to me, “You mush first and let him take pictures and she put us in the first or lead sled. As I was standing on the back of the sled, I knew that our current situation had disaster written all over it but I decided to give it a try. Then she gives me tons of information about weight, balance, drag pads, brakes, and leaning away from a tilt. As we start on the trail out of the staging area, she yells that there is a big downhill slope that has been cut into the snow and I needed to get us
down the hill and onto the trail. Folks, what we had to go through was a tunnel of snow that had 4 feet sides of sugar soft snow. The dogs took off and I leaned and did all the stuff she had told me to do and within 10 feet I flipped our sled. Chuck and his camera were dumped into the snow bank and I landed beside him. We got ourselves out and righted the sled and I announced that I was riding and Chuck was going to get us down the hill/tunnel. So, we changed places and were once again ready to go when I realized that the bag containing our lunches in the front of our sled had become unstrapped in the snow chaos of flipping and rolling. Chuck goes to the front of the sled to secure it and our guide did not see him and yells to the dogs to go. Our sled had no musher and once again it flipped and dumped me into the snow bank while Chuck is trying to catch our run away sled. The second sled came crashing into me but I was not hurt because I was buried in snow. I crawled out once again and we got ourselves situated and Chuck got us down the hill and off we went.

Klutz moment 2:

About an hour later, we stopped for lunch at a lovely spot by the river and after the dogs were secured, we walked to our picnic area. My hands were really cold so I decided to go back to our sled to get some hand warmers. I saw a trail that looked fairly packed down and started working my way to the sled. As luck would have it, half way there my right foot hit breakthrough snow and down I went. I am wallowing around in 4 foot deep snow once again trying to get any traction so that I can stand and our guide says to Chuck, “ Is she over there playing in the snow or do we have a problem?” He looks over at his wife who is flopping and flapping around in the snow like a dying fish and heads over to rescue me. To my credit I had gotten myself up on my feet by the time he got there but three snowfall events had worn me out.

Last night at dinner I could not stop laughing thinking about what our guide said to Chuck. How many times has he seen me in a mess and wondered “ Is she over there playing or do we have a problem here?” There is a reason my friend Vivien Curry Windley calls me Lucy. Somehow I manage to get myself into messes but my friends always rescue me. My friend Glenda Snotherly says I keep her prayer life active.

PS. Thank God there are no pictures of my mishaps to accompany this post.Read more