Call me crazy; the concept of strapping tennis rackets onto my feet and walking through the snow has always been appealing. It makes me think of
Little House on the Prairie and how it took them forever to get anywhere and having these mats attached to the bottom of your shoe was not only practical, but entirely necessary. Also, tying yourself to your front door during a blizzard was handy.
So, the Laura Ingalls in me has always wanted to try this thing called snowshoeing. With the Old West image in my mind, a group of ladies and I went up to Arnold to venture out into the great unknown and, well, tramp around. I mean tromp around.
Actually, what we did was strap super fancy flappy shoes on our feet that made walking on snow really simple. We hiked around a pretty area for a few hours, sat on a big rock, ate soup and drank hot chocolate. No blizzard required strings or human chains. No walking ten miles to get flour. Nope. We did, however, get locked out of the cabin for about an hour, but the snow plower with the magic hands finally got the door open. And the next morning, we woke to fresh snow!
Super fun weekend --- and the best picture goes to:
these two divine creatures.
