|Jon and I on our first night-time cross country ski outing in Montpelier.|
The first chance to take advantage of some night-time cross country skiing (albeit not by the full moon) happened, ironically, because another New Thing we'd been planning got cancelled. Jon and I and four friends -- Lynn, Ed, Sharon and Mark-- were signed up to learn how to cook with bugs. Shockingly, though the six of us thought this would be a great way to spend an evening, our enthusiasm was not shared by the rest of Central Vermont and the bug cookout did not happen. (We did manage to get a bug dinner in a few weeks later, though, and it is described here).
But since no bugs were in the offing, Lynn suggested we go to Plan B, a ski that took off from their backyard and went through nearby Hubbard Park. Sharon and Mark bowed out, and our friend Kate joined in, but the real stars of the show were the two canine participants, Willow and Frank. In fact, Frank was quite the hero, kindly swapping his awesome headlamp attached to his collar with the one with weak batteries I was wearing. The swap occurred about 10 minutes into the ski, and suddenly things got a lot easier when I could actually see where I was going.
|Kate, trying in vain to make Frank look at the camera for his spotlight moment. Willow is rocking my all-time favorite dog fashion accessory -- her orange winter boots.|
|The family McNamara -- Willow, Ed and Lynn -- pause for a photo op.|
A few weeks later, we got the chance to do the full-fledged full moon ski when Jon and I visited my friend and former student, Michelle, who now lives near the Sleepy Hollow Inn, Ski and Bike Center. She had originally invited us out for the full moon on February 14, and when that hadn't worked out, I'd been worried whether there'd be good snow for the next one in March. Of course, had I but realized that this was to be The (Almost) Neverending Winter, I'd have had no worries. As it turned out, there was still plenty of snow when the next full moon came around on March 16.
Michelle had us over for a great chicken soup dinner, and an opportunity to ski straight out to a beautifully-groomed trail through the woods. We skied the first half of it with our head lamps on, but then turned them off and navigated by the light of the moon.
|Michelle and Jon about to hit the trail again, this time minus head lamp light.|
|Michelle and I first became friends when she was participated in a class trip to Tanzania that I co-led. I am happy to see that the enthusiasm that endeared her to our Tanzanian hosts has only grown in the years since she graduated from Saint Mike's.|
It was a pretty cold night, so we wore lots of layers, but it was amazing how fast you can warm up when skiing. I don't anticipate ever being a multimillionaire, but I definitely came to the conclusion that night that a personal, private cross country ski trail through the woods of Vermont wouldn't be such a bad thing. Assuming that never happens, Michelle's invitation is probably as close as I'll get. But it was awesome, and highlighted everything I love about my adopted state: the people who live here (and were skating beside me); the spectacular mountains and forests around us; the sparse population that allows for such unique experiences; and even the winter (though I don't often feel that in March and April), which blankets the state in a layer of snow that is both beautiful and fun to play in. I think this year I've come to appreciate cross country skiing a lot more than I used to. Compared to downhill it's much cheaper, can be done in many more places, and is more environmentally friendly. But if you've never tried it under a full moon, do yourself a favor and put it on next winter's to-do list. I promise, you won't regret it.